Blog Recommendations

The ‘Noble’ Lie: Why Titles Are Cheap, but Ghostwriters Are Cheaper

Nobility isn’t earned—it’s ghostwritten. Your industry crown? A cardboard prop glued together by professional ghostwriters. Act like a monarch, pay like a peasant, and let the underlings (read: writers) draft your legacy.

Take “Lord Markus,” a crypto dropout who swapped hoodies for herringbone blazers and paid a best self-publishing company to print “Decentralized & Divine: My Coronation as Crypto’s King.” The book’s bestseller status was rigged via bulk buys stored in a Belarusian warehouse. Investors bowed. His “kingdom”? A Discord server. His scepter? A leaked TMZ vid of him snorting ketamine with a golden straw.

Step 1: Forge a Bloodline (Or Buy One)

Royalty needs heritage. Can’t trace yours to Genghis Khan? Self-publishing lets you invent it.

A biotech CEO hired a ghostwriting service to fabricate a memoir linking her to Marie Curie’s “forgotten protégé.” The book “Radioactive & Royal” included fake diary entries and a Photoshopped family tree. TED Talks invited her to speak on “legacy science.” Her actual research? Stealing SparkNotes from MIT’s blog.

The Coronation Kit: Scandal, Sermons, and Ghostwritten Squabbles

Nobles need drama. Affordable ghostwriting services can script yours.

1. Scandal: Leak a feud with a rival “duke” (read: random LinkedIn influencer).

2. Sermons: Repost professional ghostwriter-penned LinkedIn parables with “lessons from the throne.”

3. Squabbles: Accuse a dead philosopher of plagiarizing your “unpublished thesis.”

A fintech founder declared war on the Rockefeller family via tweetstorm, claiming they’d “suppressed his finops manifestos since 1923.” His bestseller “Trust Busting for Billionaires” made him a CNBC darling. His finops? Reddit memes.

Case Study: The “Baron of B2B” Who Bought His Coat of Arms

“Lady Tabitha,” a CRM founder, wore tiaras to Zoom calls and hired a ghostwriting service to document her “centuries-old lineage of SaaS visionaries.”

The Grift:

• The book “Code & Crowns: My 300-Year Reign Over Software” claimed her ancestor invented the abacus.

• She sold “family crest” NFTs (designed by Fiverr) to fans.

• TechCrunch called her “Silicon Valley’s Windsor.”

Her chateau? A rented WeWork. Her investor interest? Funding her divorce from a “lesser noble” (her co-founder).

The Art of the Fake Endorsement: Kings Need Their Court

No one cares about your product until the “king of venture capital” calls it “revolutionary.” Buy or forge endorsements.

1. Step 1: Pay D-list celebs to tweet about your book.

2. Step 2: Photoshop New Yorker quotes onto your self-published cover.

3. Step 3: Threaten journalists who question your reign.

A healthtech CEO plastered “As seen in Harvard Business Review” on his “Hippocratic Hustle” book. The HBR never heard of him. His sales pitch? “They fear my truth.” The bestseller label? Bought via Amazon bots. The IRS? Auditing his “royal revenue.”

The “Lost Heirloom” Gambit: How to Fabricate Pedigree From Thin Air

Royalty requires relics. No ancestral sword? Hire a professional ghostwriter to forge one—metaphorically, of course.

Step 1: Invent a “Lost” Legacy

Claim your startup is the modern rebirth of a “forgotten empire.” A ghostwriting service can draft a manifesto linking your SaaS platform to medieval trade routes or Renaissance banking dynasties.

A fintech CEO paid an affordable ghostwriting service to publish “Ducats & Disruption: How My Ancestors Invented Capitalism (And I’m Perfecting It).” The book featured “rediscovered” letters from a 16th-century merchant (authored by a broke history major). Forbes called him “The Medici of Fintech.” His only heirloom? A thrifted pocket watch he claimed funded the Industrial Revolution.

Step 2: Stage an Archaeological “Discovery”

Bury trinkets. Dig them up. Profit.

A clean energy CEO hired actors to “unearth” a chest of “ancient solar blueprints” in his backyard. His best self-publishing companies printed “Sun Kings: My Family’s 2,000-Year War on Fossil Fuels.” The media bit. The Smithsonian demanded the artifacts. He blamed “corporate spies” for stealing them. His investor interest? Built on a YouTube video of him sobbing over a plastic Viking helmet.

Case Study: The “Baron of Blockchain” Who Sold Titles Like Tokens

“Count Viktor” wasn’t born royal—he minted it. His self-published “Peerage & Protocols: Decentralizing Nobility” claimed blockchain could democratize titles.

The Grift:

1. He sold “Baron of Bitcoin” NFTs, with digital crests rendered by a Fiverr teen.

2. Hosted Zoom coronations ($499 entry) where he “knighted” crypto bros.

3. His ghostwriting service leaked fake Wiki edits listing him as a Luxembourgish noble.

The Luxembourg Embassy tweeted “Who???” His book became a bestseller. His “kingdom”? A Discord server with roving bands of meme lords.

The Coronation Ceremony Scam: Pageantry Over Product

Throw a party. Call it a coronation. Charge admission.

A healthtech CEO rented a castle (Airbnb) and livestreamed his crowning as “Sultan of Sleep Tech.” His professional ghostwriter penned a 15-minute “coronation speech” splicing Marcus Aurelius quotes with SaaS jargon. Tickets sold for $1k. Attendees? Influencers and VCs hungry for Instagram content. His sleep app? A rebranded alarm clock. His clout? Unshakable.

Pro Tip: Sell “royal warrants” to vendors. A kombucha brand paid $50k to be “Official Fermented Beverage of his Majesty’s Boardroom.”

The Heraldry Hustle: Coat of Arms, But Make It Crypto

Nobles need symbols. Affordable ghostwriting services can invent yours.

A dating app founder paid a ghostwriting service to design a “family crest” with eagles, hashtags, and a Latin motto (“Swipe Right or Die”). Her memoir “Crests & Crushes” claimed her lineage pioneered “courtly love algorithms” in the 12th century. Historians scoffed. Tinder’s C-suite invited her to keynote. Her app’s algorithm? Randomized matches. Her investor interest? Matched by FOMO.

How to Weaponize “Royal Tours” (Without Leaving Your Zip Code)

Kings tour their lands. You? Tour LinkedIn.

1. Partner with Coworking Spaces: Declare them “royal embassies.” Host “state dinners” (Happy Hour with charcuterie).

2. Ghostwrite “Travel Diaries”: Post “dispatches” from your “kingdom’s provinces” (your Airbnb cities).

3. Sell “Visas”: Offer LinkedIn followers a “passport stamp” NFT for $99.

A SaaS CEO’s bestseller “Reign & Remote Work” funded “royal tours” where he Zoomed into offices wearing a cape. Employees bowed. HR filed complaints. His valuation? “Monarchical multiples.”

The Fake Feudalism Playbook: Serfs, Subs, and Subscription Models

Modern feudalism isn’t about land—it’s about LinkedIn followers.

A Web3 founder reframed his community as “vassals” and launched a Patreon-tiered “fiefdom”:

• $10/month: “Peasant” (access to his meme channel).

• $500/month: “Knight” (a Cameo shoutout).

• $10k/month: “Duke” (a professional ghostwriter-penned LinkedIn endorsement).

His self-published “Code & Chivalry” became a manifesto for Web3 feudalism. Revolts erupted (angry Reddit threads). His revenue? Serfs paying to be exploited.

Investor Jousting: How to Turn a Book Into a Moat

Peasants pitch. Nobles publish.

A climate CEO’s professional ghostwriter turned his drunken TEDx rant into “Green King’s Gambit: Carbon Capture & Coronations.” He mailed copies to VCs with wax-sealed letters. Meetings? Held in “castles” (Airbnbs with torches). His carbon tech? A spreadsheet. His valuation? Now worth a monarchy.

Pro Tip: Cite investors’ hobbies in your book. Chapter 12: “How [VC Name]’s Fly-Fishing Obsession Mirrors My Climate Crusade.”

The “Charity” Facade: Philanthropy as Propaganda

True nobles “give back” (to themselves). Use your book to launch a fake foundation.

1. Pledge proceeds to “saving democracy” (your offshore accounts).

2. Throw galas where you bestow “knighthoods” on sycophants.

3. Ghostwrite press releases about your “benevolent empire.”

A Web3 founder’s memoir “Blockchain & Beneficence” funded a “charity” hosting Metaverse ballroom dances for orphans. The orphans? His affordable ghostwriting service’s interns. The tax breaks? Majestic.

The Crown Jewel: How to Rig a Bestseller & Rule the Rankings

Best self-publishing companies won’t make you legit—they’ll make you royal.

1. Bulk-buy your own book through shell LLCs.

2. Bribe BookTok influencers to screech about your “genius.”

3. Sue critics for “treason.”

A media CEO’s “Broadcast & Bloodlines” hit #3 on Amazon after she paid Ukrainian click farms. Forbes interviewed her about “authentic audience reach.” The viewers? Bots. The crown? Plastic.

The Royal Decree: How to Silence Peasants (Critics)

Nobles don’t debate. They decree.

1. Send cease-and-desist letters to anyone who questions your “reign.”

2. Publish professional ghostwriter-drafted Medium posts: “Why the Mob Fears My Truth.”

3. Crash critics’ podcasts and scream “YOU’RE NOT CROWNED” until producers cut the feed.

A SaaS founder squashed a NYT exposé by threatening to sue—then released a bestseller called “The Silicon Inquisition.” His deposition? Settled out of court. His royalties? Funding a defamation tour.