At the start of every project, in an hour-long kickoff meeting, I give each client one rule. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want in the book. After months of interviews and writing, I won’t remember which story was meant to stay private, and neither will most ghostwriters.
It sounds blunt, and it’s the kindest thing I can say at that stage.
It also answers a question most clients are too polite to ask: can I trust this person with the worst thing about me? Clients have told me about addictions, bankruptcies, divorces, firings, family feuds and decisions people have regretted for thirty years. Every one of them stayed where it belonged, and the rule is part of the reason.
Can I trust a ghostwriter with my secrets?
You can trust a professional ghostwriter, and you should still check before you do. Professional ghostwriters keep secrets for a living. Most of us can’t even say which books we’ve written. In this business, discretion is the product.
Trust still has to be earned, and you’re allowed to make a ghostwriter earn it. The paperwork is the floor: a confidentiality agreement that covers everything you share, the recordings, and your working together at all. The rest comes from how the ghostwriter behaves before and during the project, which you’ll see if you pay attention.
No client of mine has ever worried that I’d steal their idea. What they worry about is other people learning it before the book comes out, and that’s a fair worry. A ghostwriter who chats about a project in progress is handing the client’s best material to whoever happens to be listening.
Will my ghostwriter judge me for what I’ve done?
No. After enough years of this work, almost nothing surprises me, and judging a client would wreck the interviews anyway. People stop talking the moment they feel judged, and a ghostwriter who can’t get the truth can’t write the book.
When you confess something hard, a good ghostwriter recognizes the heart of your story. Readers connect with the fall, the mistake, the year everything went wrong, far more than with the wins. A founder who lost his first company to gambling and rebuilt a second one cleanly has a book people will read, and pretending 1994 never happened would turn it into a brochure.
People stop talking the moment they feel judged, and a ghostwriter who can’t get the truth can’t write the book.
If a ghostwriter ever reacts to something you’ve shared with disgust, a lecture or a joke at your expense, stop and reconsider the relationship. You deserve a writer who treats your story with respect, especially the ugly parts.
Do I have to tell my ghostwriter everything?
No, and nobody can make you. You decide what you share, what goes in the book, and what stays private for the rest of your life.
Know the tradeoff, though. The parts you hide leave holes, and readers feel them even when they can’t name them. A career that jumps without explanation, a marriage that ends offstage, a change of heart with no reason behind it.
A ghostwriter who knows the full story can write around a secret gracefully, leaving it out while keeping the rest honest. A ghostwriter who doesn’t know it will build the book on a crack without realizing it’s there.
The better question is whether to tell them enough to understand what happened, even if a good part of it never reaches the page.
Can I tell my ghostwriter things off the record?
It’s possible, but I don’t recommend it, for the reason I gave at the top: months later, nobody remembers which story was meant to stay private. When a client starts drifting into something they don’t want published, I stop them. If it’s background they think I need, I ask them to tell it in a way that could be published, or that wouldn’t hurt them if it were. That works nearly every time, and because of the kickoff conversation it rarely comes up.
If you need to say something personal without it being recorded, ask your ghostwriter to stop the recording. A couple of my clients have, for one or two conversations. Your approval is the final safeguard: nothing reaches the published book until you’ve read it and signed off. My article on what happens to your interview recordings covers how a ghostwriter should handle the raw recordings.
Can a ghostwriter be forced to reveal what I told them?
Possibly, and you need to know that before you share anything with legal consequences. Conversations with a ghostwriter aren’t legally privileged the way conversations with your lawyer are. A confidentiality agreement binds the ghostwriter, but it doesn’t override a court order, and in some lawsuits notes and recordings can be demanded as evidence.
For most memoirs and business books this never comes up.
If your story involves a crime, an active lawsuit, a regulatory investigation, a divorce in progress or anything else that could end up in court, talk to your lawyer before the interviews start. Your lawyer can tell you what to hold back, what to discuss only with counsel present, and how long the ghostwriter should keep recordings. A good ghostwriter will welcome that conversation.
Make that call early. A client who talks to a lawyer before the first interview loses an afternoon. One who finds out after publication that the recordings can be demanded in court has a much bigger problem, and no confidentiality clause will fix it.
How do I know if a ghostwriter is trustworthy?
Listen to how they talk about other clients. A ghostwriter who drops names, hints at famous clients or shares juicy details from other projects will do the same with yours. The trustworthy ones are almost boring on this point. They’ll describe their process in detail and tell you almost nothing about who they’ve worked for without permission. I can’t stand ghostwriters who trade on their clients’ names. Every coy hint about a famous client is a secret somebody paid them to keep, and they’re spending it to impress you. A few other signs worth watching:
- ► They offer a confidentiality agreement before you ask, and it covers recordings and notes.
- ► Their references talk about how safe they felt, along with the finished book.
- ► They explain exactly where your recordings will live and who else will see them.
- ► They ask permission before using anything, even small details, and treat the answer as final.
- ► They don’t push you to share painful material before you’re ready.
Another option is to test trust in steps. Share something mildly personal early and watch what happens to it. Does it show up in a draft without your permission? Does the ghostwriter handle it with care? You’ll learn more from that than from any sales call. My article on how to vet a ghostwriter covers the rest of the checks.
| What to watch | Trustworthy sign |
|---|---|
| Talk about other clients | Describes the process, says almost nothing about who they worked for; no name dropping |
| Confidentiality agreement | Offered before you ask, covering recordings and notes |
| Your recordings | Explains exactly where they live and who else will see them |
| Using details | Asks permission first, even for small details, and treats the answer as final |
| Pace | Doesn’t push you to share painful material before you’re ready |
| Your confessions | No disgust, lecture or joke at your expense |
| References | Talk about how safe they felt, along with the finished book |
| A small test | Something mildly personal shared early never shows up in a draft without permission |
What if I regret telling my ghostwriter something?
Tell them, and ask for it to be removed. A professional will take it out of their notes, keep it out of the book, and delete that part of the recording if you ask. You don’t owe an explanation.
It happened recently. A client asked me to strike an entire family chapter from a coaching book, because the family didn’t want to be in it. It came out, and the book stood fine without it.
Regret after a hard interview is normal. People tell a ghostwriter more than they planned because the conversation finally gave them room to say it, and then wake up the next morning feeling exposed. That feeling is what happens when you open a door you’ve kept shut for years, and it passes. Give yourself a few days before deciding anything. Some clients who ask for something to be struck come back later and want it in the book, because they’ve realized the story is stronger with it.
My take
Test a ghostwriter’s discretion before you hand over the hard stuff, since keeping your secrets is most of what you’re paying for. Listen to how a writer talks about other clients on the first call. If they gossip about them, they’ll gossip about you. Share something small early and watch where it ends up. And if you regret telling something, ask for it gone. A professional will strike it without asking why, and the book will survive without it.
What’s the safest way to decide what to tell your ghostwriter?
Before each hard story, ask yourself whether you’d be comfortable seeing a version of it in print. If yes, tell it. If it’s background your ghostwriter needs, tell it in a form you’d be comfortable publishing. If neither, leave it out.
Get a confidentiality agreement in writing, bring your lawyer in if anything could end up in court, and trust your final approval for the rest. A ghostwriter who can’t keep what you’ve told them has failed at the one part of this job that can’t be repaired.
The Book Discovery Intensive starts under confidentiality from the first call, and my article on ghostwriting confidentiality covers the agreements themselves. My ghostwriting services use the same kickoff rule on every book.
Trust is the foundation of every ghostwritten book. The Ghostwriting Advantage explains how the work runs when someone else writes your book, so you can judge who deserves your story.
Frequently Asked Questions
- attorney-client privilege, Legal Information Institute, Cornell Law School
- Rule 45. Subpoena, Legal Information Institute, Cornell Law School
