Blog Recommendations

Day 1: Commit to the Chaos (or Bail Now)

Let’s not pretend this is a “passion project.” If you’re reading this, your reputation’s circling the drain, your investors are ghosting, or your therapist suggested journaling. Congrats! You’re ready.

First rule: Burn your calendar. Delete your meditation app. And for god’s sake, stop worrying about “quality.” This isn’t Shakespeare. It’s a weapon.

Last year, a fintech CEO hired us to ghostwrite his book while his startup was under federal investigation. We cranked out “Too Big to Bail: Confessions of a Bankrupt Billionaire” in 29 days. Forbes called it “the most performative memoir since Elizabeth Holmes.” His investors? They doubled down.

Day 2–4: Steal Your Life (We’ll Make It Sexy)

Your “content vault” is a landfill. Dig through:

• Angry emails to your co-founder.

• Slack rants about your board.

• Voice memos from your 3 AM insomnia spiral.

A SaaS CEO handed us his iPhone with 500+ voice notes titled “Meltdown 1” to “Meltdown 73.” We turned his existential panic into “Scale Fast or Die Ugly: The Startup Suicide Playbook.” Pre-orders crashed his website.

Pro tip: If your stories don’t make your ghostwriter visibly uncomfortable, you’re doing it wrong.

Day 5–7: Hire a Ghostwriter

Avoid writers who use phrases like “creative process” or “character arc.” You need a professional ghostwriter who’ll ask: “How drunk were you when you fired that employee?” or “Can I interview your ex-spouse?”

One CMO hired a ghost who cold-called her estranged mentor for “color commentary.” The mentor trashed her, so the ghost wrote a chapter titled “Why My Hero Betrayed Me (And I Stole His Clients).” Investor interest tripled. So did the mentor’s rage.

Day 8–14: The Clown Car Draft (Embrace the Mess)

Your first draft will read like a caffeine-fueled confession booth. Lean in.

We once wrote 80 pages in 7 days for a CEO under SEC investigation. The draft included a rant about his obsession with alpaca farms and a haiku about tax fraud. The final book? A bestseller called “Confessions of a White-Collar Lunatic.”

Your ghostwriter’s job isn’t to make it pretty. It’s to make it dangerously honest.

Day 15–16: Edit Like a Sociopath With a Hangover

Print your draft. Grab a red pen. Delete anything that:

• Sounds like a LinkedIn post.

• Doesn’t make your lawyer sweat.

• Won’t offend at least one family member.

A crypto CEO wrote 10 pages on “decentralized synergy.” His ghostwriter hacked it down to: “I don’t understand blockchain. Neither do you. Let’s get rich anyway.” Pre-orders hit six figures.

Editing tip: If you’re not cringing, you’re censoring.

Day 17–20: Cover Design That Screams “Daddy Issues”

Forget “subtle” or “classy.” Your cover should haunt Barnes & Noble like a sleep paralysis demon.

A client insisted on a serene mountain landscape. We replaced it with a dumpster fire and titled it “Burn Your Playbook (Before It Burns You).” The self-publishing team quit. The book sold 20k copies in a week.

Need inspiration? Study airport bookstore scams. They’ve mastered clickbait in physical form.

Day 21–25: Pre-Launch Arson (Burn Bridges, Build Hype)

Launching a book quietly is like throwing a birthday party in a cemetery. Go nuclear.

• Leak a chapter to a subreddit.

• Fake a feud with a has-been influencer.

• Send anonymous copies to your competitor’s board members.

A biotech CEO “accidentally” shipped 200 books to Wall Street Journal reporters with “EMBARGOED” stickers. Investor interest exploded. The embargo? Pure fiction.

Day 25.5: Orchestrate a Scandal (Yes, On Purpose)

Your pre-launch is a flop if it doesn’t legally terrify your board. The goal? Manufacture a controversy so polarizing, your book becomes the axis of a culture war only you can win. Let’s get unethical.

Step 1: Fake a leak. Drop a PDF of Chapter 7 (“Why Your VC is a Tax-Dodging Sociopath”) onto a conspiracy subreddit. Use a burner account to comment, “This CEO KNOWS the truth. They’re silencing him!!!”

Step 2: Sue yourself (kinda). Have your lawyer send a Cease & Desist to… yourself. Post the letter on LinkedIn with “This is what transparency costs.”

Step 3: Poison the IV drip. Bribe a barista to “accidentally” leave your book in AngelList’s lobby with “PROPERTY OF [COMPETITOR CEO]” Sharpied on the cover. Friction breeds fame.

A SaaS founder pulled this off by framing his rival’s intern for leaking “The SaaS Playbook They Want Buried.” His startup’s waitlist blew up. The rival’s execs hired a crisis PR team. Investor interest turned into a bidding war.

Case Study: How a “Bestseller” Was Born in a Federal Court

Meet “Lara,” a fintech CEO whose startup was minutes from collapse. Her professional ghostwriter hatched a plan: Dedicate a chapter to a real federal case involving her CFO. Title it “Cooking the Books Isn’t Fraud—It’s Performance Art.”

Lara leaked the chapter to a finance meme page. The feds subpoenaed the book. The media frenzy turned her trial into a bestseller launch party. Acquittal? Pending. Book sales? Covering her legal fees. Ghostwriting services don’t fix problems. They weaponize them.

Day 25.9: Hire Trolls (But Call Them “Early Readers”)

Negative reviews are inevitable. So own them. Pay Reddit trolls to trash your book with critiques like “This clown can’t even spell ROI” or “Cheaper to burn this than buy toilet paper.” Screenshot these. Drop them into ads with “Why are industry gatekeepers terrified of this book?”

A cybersecurity CEO spent $2k on Fiverr trolls to roast his self-published manifesto. He plastered their insults on billboards in San Francisco. Tech Twitter exploded. His book sold out. His dignity? To shreds. His bank account? Thriving.

The Cheap Ghostwriter Trap (A Horror Story)

Not all affordable ghostwriting services end well. One CEO outsourced his memoir to a $5k ghost who moonlighted as a My Chem Romance fanfic writer. The draft read like an emo teen’s diary fused with ESG jargon. Chapter titles included “Welcome to the Black Parade (of My Boardroom Betrayals).”

The CEO panicked. We salvaged it by retitling the book “Destroy Your Inner Child (Before Your Startup Does).” It flopped. But hey—his professional ghostwriter got a Grammy nod for Best Album Notes.

How to “Self-Publish” Like a Cartel Boss

Best self-publishing companies are for normies. You? Use shell corporations.

A CEO under SEC investigation published his book via an LLC named “Boring Tax Consultancy LLC.” His self-published “tax guide” (“IRS Secrets Every Billionaire Knows”) accidentally taught readers how to launder hype into revenue. The SEC still hasn’t noticed.

Pro tip: Publish under your dog's name. The bi-line “Written by Mr. Snuffles, with pawsitivity” is a viral magnet.

Day 25.99: Bribe Bookstores 

Stick your book in indie shops using loopholes. Here’s how:

1. Hire actors to “inquire” about your nonexistent book at stores.

2. Blame supply chain issues when they can’t stock it.

3. “Generously” offer your personal stash of 200 copies.

A wellness CEO did this in Brooklyn. Her book “Meditate Your Way to Tax Evasion” became a local cult hit. Investor interest shifted from her failing app to her “grassroots hustle.”

Wake-Up Call: Your Ghostwriter is Your New BFF

By day 25, your ghostwriting services team should know things even your spouse doesn’t. Leak a secret to them just to test loyalty. One CEO told his ghostwriter he’d bribed a journalist—then wrote a chapter about the bribe. The ghost kept quiet. The book’s profits bought his silence.

If your ghost sells you out? Congrats. Your scandal just wrote its own sequel.

Day 26–28: Media Training (How to Weaponize Your Flaws)

Most CEOs sound like hostage victims in interviews. Your job? Double down on dumpster fire energy.

A cybersecurity CEO went viral for answering “What’s your biggest regret?” with “Not selling my company to the Russians when I had the chance.” His ghostwriter wrote that line. His startup’s valuation? Up 300%.

BTS tip: Tell your ghostwriter to pen your interview lines. Most journalists won’t notice (or care).

Day 29: The “Soft Launch” That’s Anything But

Post a single link. Tag zero people. Casually drop “Wrote this in 30 days. No clue if it’s trash. Roast me.” Then log off.

A climate CEO ghostwrote a book, posted it with “My 7-year-old helped me title this,” and vanished. The media framed it as a “humble genius” move. Bloomberg called. His ex called him a sociopath. Sales soared.

Day 30: Profit From the Trainwreck

Positive reviews are boring. Controversy is currency.

When a CEO’s book was panned as “a manifesto for narcissists,” he bought billboards with the quote and added “They’re right. Pre-order volume two.” His self-publishing revenue now funds his yacht’s monthly waxing.

Why 30 Days Works (Chaos Is the Brand Now)

Your book isn’t a book. It’s a flaming Molotov cocktail lobbed at your industry’s facade.

Our clients use affordable ghostwriting services not because they’re lazy. Because urgency terrifies competitors and addicts investors.

Still need 12 months to write? Great. Your ex-CFO’s book will drop first.