The Perspiring Writer Magazine

My husband almost choked on his Rice Krispies the day I told him I was changing my name because I wanted more freedom. At first he looked shocked and then he smiled. “No,” I said. “Get that smug look off of your face. I’m not leaving you; I’m giving myself a pen name.”

Since I was a little girl the act of impersonating others and hiding my identity was part of my daily routine. When I gyrated like Elvis or threw kisses to the crowds in my Marilyn Monroe dress and heels, I forgot I was a child. As I grew into adolescence, Halloween was my favorite celebration. I made dress-up day last for months. I would appear at the family dinner table several nights a week masked as a famous personality of the 50s and 60s. My parents encouraged my behavior by acting as if John Kennedy or Queen Elizabeth were seated for dinner.

As a freelance author I found impersonating others did not fit into any genre, but I still missed the aura of using a disguise. I flirted with the idea of using a nom de plume, but never seriously considered the option until I met Sylvia, a very opinionated lady in my library writing group.     

When Sylvia read my short essay, The Invasion of the Snowbirds, she was instantly appalled. She insisted I bend my knee and apologize to everyone who lived north of Florida. She was shocked that I would call our frozen Northern friends “a bunch of freeloaders." When I told her it was meant to be humorous, she replied “If I were you I’d change my name before the vengeance of the birds catches up with you.”

Although Sylvia’s reaction made me ponder the idea of disguising my true identity, I didn’t give the subject another thought until I became president of our homeowner’s association. When the words vigilantes, morons, and the criminally insane appeared in my written ramblings about some our various board meetings, I decided maybe I needed a literary double to save my life. I would be the masked Zorro, slashing my words onto paper, and not caring about hiding the truth to protect the guilty.

Even though I believe a pseudonym would allow me the freedom I seek I still have a problem with guilt. I can hear my late mother’s voice whisper in my ear, “Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you like the name I gave you?”

I’m sure the same thoughts crossed the mind of French philosopher, Francois Marie Arouet, when he became Voltaire to avoid imprisonment and exile form France because of his political views. Where would George Orwell, Dr. Seuss, O. Henry, George Eliot, and Mark Twain be if their creators had backed away from pen names because of a guilt trip? I wonder if Alice would still be in Wonderland if Lewis Carroll had not been allowed to set her free.

Authors use pen names for many reasons. Sometimes an author’s name is too manly or too girlie for the genre in which they are writing. I worry my name is too dull and uninspiring to reach out and grab a reader. Stephen King’s name is not boring, but he was asked to change it to Richard Bachman for four of his novels because his publisher believed he was producing too many books to be taken seriously.

Pearl Grey, a critically acclaimed western writer, changed his identity to Zane Grey because he believed his name did not suit his tales of the Wild West. Mary Ann Evans switched her name to George Eliot because she believed sexism could impact sales. Nora Roberts uses the name J.D. Robb when she writes a thriller to distance herself from her romance novels.

When I look at the reasons famous authors choose to use a pen name, I am humbled. My reasons are trivial compared to the critically acclaimed authors. For example, sexism would not be a factor in my marketability. I have no fear of incarceration because of my skewed views. I am not threatened with exile. I do not produce bestselling novels at a rapid pace or any pace for that matter. 

My only excuse is based on fear of retaliation from a flock of senior citizens and a mob of offended neighbors. Perhaps instead of changing my name and upsetting my dear departed mother I should simply write my offensive stories while wearing a Lone Ranger costume and maybe no one will realize it is me.