Monday, September 30, 2013

The Name Game



By


So what is the deal with pseudonyms?

- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf


So what is the deal with pseudonyms? 


I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”


When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.


Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?


Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.


So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!


Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.


At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.


My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.


With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.


In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.


So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?


- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf

 _______________________________________

 You can find the original article at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/

Keen on running!

I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
I remember hungrily devouring The Vampire Chronicles and being utterly devoted to Anne Rice. Then I remember my delight at discovering that she was also A.N. Roquelaure and delving into the sultry adventures of Sleeping Beauty the sex slave. I also recall finding out that Stephen King authored the Bachman books and that Nora Roberts was in fact also J.D. Robb. More recently was the joy of Cheryl Strayed revealing she was not only the hardcore hiker we admired in Wild, but also sage relationship advisee, Dear Sugar. And now, even J.K. Rowling has been outed as The Cuckoo’s Calling author Robert Galbraith by an “anonymous source.”
When I was an early-twenties lowly, editorial intern, I was initially shocked at how many contracts crossed my desk of authors who used pseudonyms. Royalty checks were not addressed to the kitschy names that were golden and embossed on so many of the covers surrounding our cubes. The real ones were less glamorous and sported addresses spanning from rural Minnesota to suburban New Jersey. Granted the book parties were in Manhattan and the tours in major cities… but it would seem that writers value the small allowance of anonymity that comes with a pseudonym. And I can see why.
Another interesting part was how their mail came into the publishing house. Working alongside well-known names was a thrill—especially learning their behind the scenes stories, family ties and quirks. Hell, most of them were actually pretty cool. But when they got mail you could tell which envelopes were addressed from myriad fans (often sent on to a P.O. Box or an agent) and which correspondence should be enclosed in the next package sent directly to the scribe (at a non-public, often rather bland address) It was kind of cool to see the juxtaposition of two sides to every story—literally. Again, I understood. Who would want thousands of envelopes dumped in their home mailbox when that home is the escape a writer so desperately treasures?
Perhaps the most fun came from meeting the authors I had the privilege to know. When you see someone’s name so artfully displayed on posters in Barnes and Noble, or on a book jacket admired in house, or even on a television commercial a la James Patterson, and you know who they are behind all the smoke and mirrors it’s pretty cool. That said I do believe that privacy is one thing every writer should enjoy.
So what is the deal with pseudonyms? Should we love em or leave em? Do they help or hurt? Should everybody have one? I’m inclined to say it’s not a bad idea to kick one around and see what happens. Whether indie or traditional, there is a great deal to be said about who wrote the book on…insert scandalous, erotic, edgy, bold topic here!
Fully a fan of the life as an open book approach, I do declare that I have at least two firm, untaken names that I intend to write under at some point; actually I have three solid repeaters. I’d even done some experimenting while I was in college (ha, don’t we all) and had seen an interesting response to the stories I plopped into the writer’s workshop piles without my own moniker. People get interested if it’s good. They pick it up thinking they never heard of you, and they appreciate that this could be for several reasons: you are young, you recently experienced something worth filling pages about, you are trying out a new genre OR you think it may suck and don’t want it all attached to your birth name and clinging there for eternity. All of these are good. Even if it isn’t your literary tour de force, you will learn from the experience and grow in some way.
At the forefront of my brain as I type this, I am thinking of two writer acquaintances that use only pseudonyms and it seems they have zero intention of ever revealing their true identities. One is a blogger who has a smallish following and is a bit on the flaky side; publishing sporadically as phases of twenty-somethingness follow her around the states. One winter it was poetry in the spirit of the beats and one summer it was spritely forest speak while trailing bands in skimpy dresses. Also varying with her current love interest, styles come and go like haircuts and forays into areas of career possibilities. It’s invaluable for this girl to have an alternate name, especially as she enters the thirties and realizes explicit and open can be far from each other in adulthood.
My second acquaintance is terrified to be herself, enjoys hiding behind false images and embracing phony compliments that float glossily around the conceit and superficial air that is her ego. She is under the mistaken impression that many of us encounter at one point or another—that appearance is everything and all else comes second. This is the opposite of how I think about writing and has always given me a chuckle. For those of us who take the I don’t give a shit approach, or those of us who embrace our quirks, our failures beside our successes and are not mortified at the aspect of being caught in the rain without an umbrella (god forbid our hair would frizz) we write about these people because we know they are too self-absorbed to read us and probably will never even know its them we are describing.
With these two cases, it fascinates me to think about pseudonyms. Because I think someday I might like to write some erotica under a nom de plume… or perhaps a murder mystery with a male protagonist that is despised from page one. Most likely, the novel I am sporadically adding to will bear some resemblance to my real life so I wonder if a label of fiction would be enough? Maybe I would need the confidence that comes with a pseudonym. I don’t give myself too much credit as I’ve had many unexpected reactions from unsuspecting characters that were derived from friends and family. So I truly embrace the writer’s ability to create another name.
In fact, I embrace the pseudonym for its flexibility, its no holds barred-ness and the all-out freedom it provides. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of ourselves. Hey Galbraith is #1 on the NYT list as we speak. But would it have been if Rowling wasn’t exposed? I guess we will never know. For now, I think I like the idea of having options. It’s freeing to know we can be whomever we like on the page AND on the cover.
So who will you be this week? Why not get creative and introduce yourself anew. We all think about it… don’t we?
- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
By


So what is the deal with pseudonyms?

- See more at: http://indiereader.com/2013/08/the-name-game/#sthash.rb1zUx8B.dpuf
By Keri English
By Keri English

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