Having worked in the retail industry, and in a call centre, booking car parking spaces for people jetting off overseas, I can assure you that the customer is not always right – and, often, utterly insufferable and obnoxious. Thankfully, those days are firmly entrenched in the past. But having swapped customer for client as a ghostwriter, the people I work with are, ultimately, right. Well, perhaps not ‘right’, for all creative works are subjective, but they must have the final say on how a manuscript shapes up.

As a ghostwriter, I can advise as to how their work should be structured, how their dialogue, if included, should sit on the page, and the overall nature of the content included, using the experience I’ve garnered over the years spent honing my craft.

For those of us working within this realm, we, like people in other industries for a reasonable amount of time, or way beyond that, develop an instinct that steers us in the right direction when deciding how best to present our latest client’s work. Much like a seasoned striker sniffing around the six yard box, who knows how best to bulge the back of the net, that instinct can be hard to resist… a muscle memory that tries to impose itself for the good of the project.

We, of course, want the best outcome for our clients. But sometimes that outcome isn’t driven by a financial goal, or sales numbers, but by a heartfelt desire to tell a story in a certain way, which might conflict with the vision we had in mind. Some clients may want a manuscript that’s so personal, it will never see the light of day, a few selected confidants aside. And, even if money and a bestseller are targeted, we might not agree with the direction the client has elected to take it in. But they have every right to disagree with our take on it.

One of my clients, who had an exceptionally powerful story to tell, lost a publishing deal because they refused to change the names of the people who had done them harm; and, fearing legal implications, the publisher decided not to pursue the title – a terrible shame, since it had all of the ingredients to make a real impact. Another pressed ahead with language that I assume a fair percentage of their readership would find offensive… though it simply wasn’t my place to try and interfere, beyond voicing my opinion on both.

Obviously, it’s our job to punctuate the chosen content with skill, so that it looks good on the page; but even then, I’ve seen clients alter some of my decisions, even when not grammatically correct, for example. Put simply, the client’s final decision isn’t any of our business – all we can do is advise to the best of our ability and experience. And to assume that we know best when it comes to presenting something that might be deeply personal to them is more than a touch arrogant, is it not? And, if I’m feeling a smidgen of frustration at what I might view as poor judgement on the client’s part, it helps to picture all of those insufferable customers on the other end of the line, or making a bad day even worse in a shop, and realise how lucky I am to be entrusted with other people’s work, and to be able to make a living from it.