Owning Your Identity

What's in a name?

As a writer, your name is among your most precious resources.

Once you've made the decision to become a writer, it's important to claim your name early and to begin building a reputation with that name.

Remember always that what happens on the web stays on the web--potentially forever. It also might spill over into the real world as well but, either way, it's likely not going to quietly disappear. Sure, you can delete it from the place you put it. But that doesn't mean it's gone. Anyone who has access to content can find a way to promulgate it. Further, Google and other services store and make available caches, which enable web users to 'go back in time' to see what various webpages used to look like. Check out the Wayback Machine.

I'm not trying to make you paranoid. There are good and noble reasons why various entities have identified a need to retain a history of the web. The point here is simply this: Before you commit anything to the web, consider that:

• it may be seen by people far beyond your originally intended audience; and


• it may stick around a lot longer than you want it to.

If you believe you may someday hope to be taken seriously as a writer, determine what name(s) that writer is going to use and act accordingly.

What's the best name for me?

Preferably, one that no one else has already made famous. You want to be the first person someone thinks of when he or she hears your name.

For many writers, the real name is the obvious first choice. It usually 'feels right.' Further, depending on the writer's achievements (degrees, job history, etc.), using the real name can add credibility. This is especially true in the case of nonfiction.

Some writers were blessed (cursed?) at birth with names very few other people would want. It's easy for us. Do a Google search and we're right there at the top of the hit list. It's not necessarily an indication that we're popular... it could just mean that our names aren't.

Others have to be a little more creative. Substituting initials for either or both of the first and middle names is an option. Sometimes people use nicknames instead. That works, too.

What's that? You don't want to use your real name or a variant thereof?

Well, that can work, too. Remember, the point is to find a name that feels comfortable to you and that hasn't already been claimed by someone more famous.

Pseudonyms are an established tradition in the literary world. Would anyone want to read a romance novel by someone with a hideous name?

I have a pen name. It's Ivey Banks. I use that for my contemporary fiction. The reason is because I write across genres. Readers who like contemporary fiction don't necessarily like fantasy and vice versa. By associating a different author name with works of different types, I hope to avoid a situation in which a reader who loved one of my stories picks up another, only to be disappointed.

How about a pseudonym?

Before you decide to use a pseudonym, it's important to understand what pen names can and can't do for you. The most important thing to know is that a pen name is not a secret identity. Once upon a time, a fake name could largely serve that purpose. In the Twenty-First Century, though, you're better off accepting that, regardless of the name you put on your writing, people are going to know who you are. Gone are the days when writers could take on fanciful names and populate their bios with interesting but false bits of personal history.

The public is willing to accept authors' pen names in the same way it accepts musicians' and actors' stage names. If you want to use a pen name, though, your safest approach is to let it be a name and not much else.

I loved reading Nancy Drew when I was young. For one of our assignments in grade school, we had to write a letter of appreciation to our favorite author. I wrote Carolyn Keene a five-page letter and received a lovely note in response. Had no idea the woman didn't exist. And when I later found out (ahh, the wonders of the internet), I wasn't upset. The name might not be real, but someone--in this case a bunch of someones--had written those stories I loved. The reason I didn't feel cheated was because it was, after all, just a name to me. I hadn't made a personal connection with the nonexistent author.

The internet has made the world much smaller than it used to be. Things are personal now.

Here's the problem with pen names: An author needs a bio. A pen name has no bio; after all, it is just a name. What to do, what to do?

There are some who believe that the creation of a pen name and a persona to go with it is simply an extension of the creative process. I won't argue with that. In fact, I think it'd be cool to be able to recreate myself. At the very least, I could make myself tall and thin instead of... well, you get the picture. But in the Twenty-First Century, there are no secrets. You may feel you have a right to privacy but that doesn't mean you'll get it.

Once upon a time, the vast majority of Americans had no idea their president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, was confined to a wheelchair. Members of the press back then operated under different principles than their modern-day counterparts. There was no World Wide Web where people could gather to exchange speculation and evidence. It was a different world.

Ours is a world in which true secrets are an increasingly rare phenomenon.

It's also a world in which the public--or at least the media outlets claiming to represent its interests--has increasingly claimed the right to know all kinds of very private things about people in the public eye.

If you want to claim a pen name and try to keep your secrets, you just might succeed. The more famous you get, the less likely it'll be that you can maintain that mystique.

If you go that route then, when it comes to the bio, it seems it'd be best to either give your true bio or say nothing at all. Trying to keep secrets is one thing. Creating a fabricated persona to go with the pen name is something else altogether.

Why shouldn't I create an author persona?

If you need a cautionary tale, you need look no further than the case of Laura Albert. Using the name JT LeRoy, she wrote some books. A lot of people read and liked them. But JT was more than a name. He was a whole persona, complete with a troubled past, a difficult present and an uncertain future. People didn't just fall in love with the books; they fell in love with the idea of the wunderkind known as JT LeRoy. Evidently Laura communicated with people as JT through letters, e-mails and phone calls.

It wasn't enough just to talk to JT; people wanted to see him. Laura produced JT, evidently in the person of her partner's half-sister.

Eventually, the truth came out.

Laura was labeled a hoax, a fraud. A film company sued her. She was subsequently found guilty of fraud. The Authors Guild has come out in her support. Still, it remains unclear how all this will be resolved.

Even if Laura prevails in court, her future prospects as an author are unknown. Many of her fans have turned against her.

I'm pretty sure Laura never set out to mislead or disappoint her fans. What I think happened is that JT exists for her. Many of us, as writers, have inner children screaming to tell their stories. Laura let hers tell his.

I think what happened is that the initial adoption of the pen name snowballed into larger fabrications and, for a time, the tide carried Laura. The externalization of JT Leroy was an extension of the creative process of writing, a branching into performance art. The problem was, the audience didn't know it was a performance.

Having gone this far, how could she undo it? No, she felt pressure to go a little further and then a little further to maintain the facade, and eventually it all came crashing down.

I don't want to engage in debate about whether she was right or wrong to do as she did. I respect the right of others to form their opinions.

The whole reason I've written about Laura and JT is that I'd hate to see other authors unwittingly find themselves in a situation similar to Laura's. She's been villified. Her work's been ripped apart, not because of what it is, but because of who wrote it.

I'm a firm believer in chasing dreams. On this topic, though, it seems to me maybe it's better safe than sorry. Of course, you'll have to make your own call on that. I just wanted to share the story because, before making that decision, you'll need a good understanding of the potential ramifications.

If you're not already living the life that you someday want to use on your author bio, now would be a really good time to start.

How can I claim my name?

So... now you've got your name(s) all chosen and you're going to live accordingly. What next?

Register your identity on the web as a domain name.

A lot of authors don't see the need to register their names online. They think they can do it after they get an agent or publisher. I think this is a mistake.

First, many agents and publishers report on their blogs and in other writing that they do web searches on authors whose queries intrigue them. If you have a web presence, it shows them that you're going to help market yourself. I'll deal more with that subject in future posts.

Even if you're not ready to set up your website, it's still worthwhile to get your name.

Every day, domain names disappear into other people's collections. Believe it or not, there are people who buy up domain names they have no intention of really using, just because they hope to sell the rights to those names for profit at some point in the future.

What if you spend five years building your name as a future author, only to find that the name's already been taken when you get there? And what if the person who registered it wants $5,000 to part with it?

Some writers think it's hard and/or expensive to register a domain name. They're wrong.

To register a domain name, you just type a few things into an online form, pay your fee, and you're done. It's as easy as any other online transaction you've made. Once you've registered the domain name, you don't have to do anything with it (build a website, etc.) until you're ready.

It costs little to register a domain name (you're going to be looking for a price range of $15 and down per year). Some services will even let you do it for free. Do your research before going with one of those because some of them make their money by using the domain names they've registered to run ads. There's no telling what kind of stuff people might see if they search on your name. Better to go with a company you trust. Yahoo offers domain registration services. So does Google, through a partnership with GoDaddy. So do a multitude of other trustworthy companies.

Don't hold off, thinking you want to wait until you're more web-savvy. You don't have to be web-savvy to register a domain. Register it now. If you later know more about the web and want to actually develop a site using a hosting company that's different from the one where you registered the domain, you can do that. You can also transfer the domain so it's registered through your hosting provider.

Why stop with just your author name? If you've got a great name for a book or series, consider registering that, too.

If you don't register your names, then anyone else who recognizes you as a future bestselling author is free to buy the names you want. And someone just might do it, in hopes you'll pay thousands of dollars tomorrow for what you could have had today for pennies. Your worst enemy could even take your desired name just so you can't have it.

Are you serious?

Seriously. This is one of the most important things you can ever do for yourself as a writer.

Get your name before somebody else does.

-Originally posted on October 20, 2008 at rascaleriter.com.