Making a Market in
Dvar Torah Ghostwriting
JESSE BERNSTEIN | JE STAFF
T he fi rst paid writing job I ever held was as a Bar Mitzvah speech ghostwriter.

Th is was a few years aft er my own Bar Mitzvah — although, thinking back now, my own
dvar Torah was nothing particularly special. What I remember about it more than anything
was arguing back and forth with my father about how many jokes was too many. I certainly can’t
recall the delivery all that clearly, what with the speed and adrenaline of that day. I didn’t even
remember to wear a belt to the synagogue.

But I was an English major in the making, and I was already writing quite a bit. I edited a mag-
azine at my school, and I was starting to write fi ction on my own in earnest (emphasis on earnest).

Most relevant to this particular job was when my classmates would ask me to punch up their student
government stump speeches, which was terrifi cally fun. I’d acted quite a bit in student productions
by then, and I’d written silly sketches for class assignments, but to actually see people using my words
in a persuasive manner — and getting laughs for them! — was a singular experience.

I can’t recall exactly how my fi rst dvar Torah ghostwriting job came to be. It may have been that
my mother, unbeknownst to me, off ered my services to a friend concerned over her progeny’s in-
ability to produce a speech on his own. It’s also possible that the friend mentioned her son’s diffi cult
experience, and I oh-so-graciously suggested that my services could be had. You do — well, I did —
quite a lot of talking and not a lot of thinking at that age.

DANIELSBFOTO / ISTOCK / GETTY IMAGES PLUS
If I had known that it would
be my high-water mark for
remuneration in my fi eld of choice,
I may have chosen a diff erent path,
but it seemed then to herald
unending spoils.

16 MARCH 21, 2019
SIMCHAS JEWISHEXPONENT.COM