Archive for category: Ghostwriting

The ankle bracelet with multi-colored heart shaped stones, purchased years ago at a street fair in New Orleans, was not expensive, but it held a lot of sentimental value. Still, something I love to have on my foot and wear every day was now gone. The catch has been a problem, but when it came off it had always been found somewhere in the apartment.

This time, though I looked everywhere, I realized that I must’ve lost it in the street while I was walking the dogs. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was not going to find it again this time. This made me sad, but I told myself it was only a thing. Things can be replaced. But of course, some things do have a kind of talisman effect. This was one of them.

And then, this morning, as I was about to enter the little park in front of my building, where I walk my chihuahuas, Lia and Bindy, something shiny on the concrete wall in front of the park caught my eye. Shocked, I reached out for it. I was holding my ankle bracelet. Someone, rather than keep it for themselves, or gift it to another, had left it there, in the hopes that whoever lost it would see it. And I did.

In that moment, something shifted for me. That act of kindness on the part of an unknown stranger melted my cynical heart. It was, I’m not afraid to tell you, a heart, and a spirit, that had been hardened by acts of inhumanity in politics, unfair business practices, lawlessness, crumbling international relations, the plight of the homeless and many other aspects of the world at large that made me want to stay in a small bubble, and shut the world out as much as I could. Read more

When people question the fees I charge for ghostwriting a book, I point out that a Timex tells time, and so does a Rolex. This contrast implies that they get the Rolex of ghostwriters by engaging me. (For guys, I contrast a Ford with a Rolls Royce or Maserati.)

One should always feel that you are the best choice for a client to work within your chosen profession—that you are the Rolex. But in selecting a Rolex watch over a Timex, for example, what are we paying extra for? In the interests of full disclosure, I do not have a Rolex. I am happy with my inexpensive Burberry and my fun Swatches. The highest up-the-watch food chain I have gone to is a Tag Heuer, which is nothing like the cost of a Rolex or its elite cousin, the Patek Philippe.

Why do we covet these iconic brands and envy those who own them? Would you still pay the premium if you knew no one would ever see you toting that Hermes bag for which you practically had to take out a second mortgage on your home? Or might you think twice and settle for a reasonably priced Coach bag or a high-brand knockoff?

One could argue that when you buy something iconic—by which I mean extremely expensive—you are purchasing a better made, better looking, better performing, longer lasting whatever, be it a garment, watch, jewelry, handbag, car, etc. In most cases, I submit that what you’re buying is the message you believe it will send: “Hey, look at me. I can afford this. I have made it!” That subliminal message, by the way, is as much for your confidence level as it is for the world at large. Read more

This article is part of the CelebrEighty series by Judy Katz…At 82, perhaps I can be excused for thinking about death. More specifically—my end. Look, I’m having far too much fun in my later years to want to end my human experience Death, as Hamlet described it in Act 3, Scene 1, Soliloquy, is “the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.” I’m in no rush to get to that undiscovered country, though I do have some countries on my Bucket List that I’d still love to discover.

I’m not thinking about death because of depression. However, I remain deeply saddened by the recent untimely loss of a close family member—Susan Richman, my brother Steve’s fantastic wife, who was as close to me as a sister. Others I have known for decades are dropping like flies at this stage. Others are taking a veritable pharmacy of pills to stave off their demise. I’m one of the few people I know in their 70s to 90s who only take some vitamins. Read more

This article is part of the CelebrEighty series by Judy Katz…The move I just made was only seven short blocks away, but forty (yes forty!) years is a long time to live in my old place. I knew my way around every corner of that 2,000 square foot, three bedroom, three bath, terraced apartment. Now others are enjoying its graceful expanse, and I am in an 800 square foot two bedroom, two bath.

In all honesty, it was time to cash out of my co-op. After an exhaustive search, the rental complex I found had killer amenities. There’s an outdoor garden with barbeques, a clubhouse with a huge conference room and kitchen for meetings, and a lounge with a giant TV. There’s a game room, a large pool with a lifeguard, and a fabulous health club with every imaginable exercise machine. Read more

This article is part of the CelebrEighty series by Judy Katz… On August 29, 2020, I celebrated my 80^thbirthday at Dairy Queen. My daughter Heather made the day special by satisfying one of the items on my Bucket List: a first-time-ever visit to try one of their Blizzards. Thankfully, it didn’t disappoint. I’ve written about this event before—in Blog Two, “CelebrEighty at Dairy Queen.” At the time, I called my Bucket List “pathetic.” I want to walk back that judgment I made on myself. I apologize not just to myself but also to you, dear reader. No wish is pathetic.

At 81 years of age I still have a lot of wishes on my Bucket List. I hope you don’t judge me as a superficial person if I tell you I want to someday, somehow, finally learn how to apply false eyelashes properly so they don’t get unstuck at one end. I wind up looking “unglued,” like a tragically unaware Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. I look much better in false eyelashes and would love to do the job right. If millions of women of all ages can do it, why can’t I? Speaking of developing that skill, by learning those tricks and gluing them on, is that what a “hack” means?

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