A Sensitive Topic—Sensitivity Readers

You’ve heard of various types of editors. You’ve heard of beta-readers. But what’s a sensitivity reader? Should you hire one?

Societal Change

Let’s set the scene by reviewing recent history. In the past, a majority white and male-oriented culture prevailed in America. White, male writers often wrote about characters of other races, and female characters of any race, in a negative way, with prose full of stereotypes, misogyny, and racism. The reading public accepted this. I’m not excusing this, just stating it.

In recent years, we’ve seen a change. Readers seek stories depicting authentic women and people of color. They’ve rebelled against writing that falls short of that standard, often getting offended by it, and have broadcasted those opinions on social media, giving rise to ‘cancel culture.’

Publishers, noticing the changing market, have sought manuscripts with more realistic portrayals. The pendulum has swung the other way, and publishers often prefer stories with women and people of color as the heroes, and white males as the bad guys. Some publishers have extended this preference beyond the text, to the author. They sometimes favor manuscripts written by writers belonging to formerly marginalized groups out of a belief that only they can portray such characters in a non-offensive way.

Running Scared

For a time, a cloud of fear hung over the industry. White, male writers feared being cancelled, even rejected by publishers due to a gender and skin color they couldn’t change. Publishers, with predominantly white editors, feared cancellation, since even one book not meeting the standard could spell financial doom.

A Solution?

Into this fray strode ‘sensitivity readers.’ Like beta readers, they’ll review your manuscript and offer advice to improve it. But they specialize in identifying stereotypes, offensive phrases, and dialogue, and signs of bias against formerly marginalized people. They typically charge for this service.

The Backlash

A harsh reaction arose over the existence of, and need for, sensitivity readers. Accused of censorship and dictatorial gatekeeping, sensitivity readers would, some thought, act like thought police, rendering all writing bland and dull.

Backlash Against the Backlash

Supporters of sensitivity readers dismissed accusations of censorship, asserting that such readers only make recommendations. The author remains responsible for the writing, and the publisher remains responsible for the book’s publication. A sensitivity reader won’t certify your manuscript as cancel-proof, any more than an editor can guarantee no lingering grammatical mistakes or misspellings.

Rewriting the Past

The advent of sensitivity readers to help with manuscripts before publication coincides with a new and related phenomenon. Publishers now hire sensitivity readers as editors to put out revised editions of existing books, works once deemed acceptable, but now considered offensive by some. They’ve cleansed these revised versions of objectionable content. This has occurred to the works of Roald Dahl, Ian Fleming, and R.L. Stine.

The practice sparked controversy when it began, with critics taking umbrage at altering classics in the name of wokeness.

Today

Much of the uproar over sensitivity readers had died down. They stand as one more resource available to authors. Such readers perform a service, but responsibility remains with the writer and publisher, as it had before.

As for altering previously published works, the outrage here, too, shall pass. So long as (1) the book states that text has been changed from the original to suit modern tastes, (2) the original version remains available for purchase, and (3) no violation of copyright laws occur, there seems little harm. It’s akin to publishing abridged versions of long works, or revising very old works into modern English.  

Readers Rule

To me, it’s all about delighting, educating, or fascinating the reader. It’s always been about that since writing began. (Here I’m talking about writers who seek to have their work read, not those who write only for themselves.) If sensitivity readers help an author’s work connect better with today’s reading audience, I’m fine with them. As a writer, you’re free to use this available resource or not, and free to accept the resulting recommendations or not.

Come to think of it, maybe a sensitivity reader should have reviewed this post before its publication by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Shouldn’t Fiction Writers Get Paid More?

As the old saying goes, if you want to make a small fortune by writing fiction, start with a large fortune. Spoiler alert—the answer to this post’s title question is ‘yes.’

The Problem

Fiction writers should get paid more than most of them do. Consider the loneliness of writing, the struggle to gather the right words—out of many thousands—and to arrange them in just the right order, the trepidation of submitting a manuscript, the anxious anticipation of awaiting a response, the crushing despair of rejection.

Mere doctors and lawyers, accustomed to their lives of ease, could never stand the strain. Yet, by the most paradoxical injustice of our universe, members of these professions earn much more money than most fiction writers.

The Plea

As mentioned in an article in The Guardian, author Philip Pullman wrote an open letter to British publishers, imploring them to pay writers more. He made his case on the basis of fairness, stating that it’s in everyone’s interest to ensure authors can make a living.

Plan A

The uncaring and indifferent among you might ask where the money (these additional funds for deserving authors) should come from. The letter doesn’t cover that matter in detail because the answer is obvious. After all, publishers spend most of their time luxuriating in their vaults, counting and recounting their excess money. They use bills as scrap paper. They use gold coins to shim the legs of wobbly desks. They’re awash in cash, drowning in it.

The letter doesn’t ask publishers to part with all their money, just enough so starving writers can eat. It’s not too much to ask. Publishers will still retain plenty of scrap paper and desk-propping coins.

Plan B

On the off chance those skinflint publishers decline to cough up the necessary funding, the letter hints at another source. Pullman states it’s in ‘everyone’s interest’ to get writers paid appropriately.

Therefore, if publishers prove too stingy, we can turn to Plan B—take money from everyone and spread that sum among writers. However, Plan B may prove more difficult than it sounds. Going door to door with a tin cup strikes me as time-consuming. Also, a few citizens may hold differing opinions of fairness and disagree about what constitutes ‘everyone’s interest.’ Some might even refuse to contribute to the tin cup.

Let’s forget that method and select a far more efficient way of collecting money from ‘everyone’—taxation. We can simply persuade politicians (well known for their powers of logical reason and their sense of fairness) to raise sufficient taxes to pay writers what we’re worth. If they balk at a tax hike, they can feel free to add to the rather minuscule national debt, for payment later, by someone else.

What a grand project! Who’s with me?

The Consequences

Before we march on Washington, there’s one more thing. Failure in this endeavor is not an option. Mr. Pullman’s letter warns that if writers don’t get paid more, they will become an endangered species.

Writers, you may be aware, have almost split off from Homo sapiens to constitute a separate species—Homo scriptor. Failure to pay writers a living wage, Mr. Pullman believes, will cause that species’ population to decline.

What higher purpose does government serve, I ask you, than to protect all the species of the Earth? The endangerment of a beloved species, the possibility of its extinction, should prompt all non-writers to beg their governments to do something to ‘Save the Writers.‘ (Not a bad slogan. I should write that down.)

Rethinking the Problem

As I ponder this, a countervailing thought occurs. As the population of Homo scriptor dwindles, they will produce fewer new books. In a free market, when supply shrinks and demand stays steady or increases, the price goes up. As the price rises, more money should flow to the remaining writers, thus solving their income problem.

In fact, it’s possible this has already happened, and that the world has already reached an equilibrium, with the right number of writers all earning their fair share in a competitive market.

Well, isn’t that a buzz kill? I had my bags packed to march on D.C. Maybe, contrary to Mr. Pullman’s contention, things are as fair as they’re going to be for writers.

And if they’re not, the words of my father keep coming back. He used to ask me, “Who told you the world was fair?” That was a long time ago, before I became—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Plagiarisms, Algorithms, and Ostracisms

The latest outrage jolting the fiction-writing world is the Cristiane Serruya Plagiarism Scandal, or #CopyPasteCris in the Twitter world. I’ll leave it for others to gnash teeth and rend garments over the specifics of this case. As a former engineer and natural problem-solver, I prefer to look at what we might do to prevent future recurrences.

First, let me summarize. Alert and avid readers of romance books noticed matching phrases and paragraphs in two books: The Duchess War (2012) by Courtney Milan and Royal Love (2018) by Cristiane Serruya. These readers notified Ms. Milan, who reacted strongly. More investigations by readers of Ms. Serruya’s 30-odd books found uncredited passages and excerpts from 51 other books by 34 authors, 3 articles, 3 websites, and 2 recipes. In addition to Ms. Milan, the original authors included Nora Roberts, who likewise doesn’t tolerate imitation, no matter how sincere the flattery.

While lawyers gather for the coming feast, let us back away from the immediate affair, make some assumptions about the problem, and consider possible solutions. First, we’ll assume Ms. Serruya actually did what readers allege, that she (or her hired ghostwriters) copied other works and passed them off as her own. Second, let’s assume she is at least somewhat sane and had semi-logical reasons for doing so. Third, we’ll assume Ms. Serruya is not alone, that there are others out there doing the same thing.

What might her motivations have been? Why would anyone do this? In her post, Ms. Roberts asserts the existence of “black hat teams” working to thwart Amazon’s software algorithms to maximize profit. For more on this practice, read Sarah Jeong’s post from last summer, based on the Cockygate scandal.

It’s possible we’ve reached a point where (1) the ease of copying books, (2) the money to be made by turning out large numbers of romance books, and (3) the lack of anti-plagiarism gatekeepers at Amazon, have combined to produce all the incentive needed for unscrupulous “authors” (even a cottage industry of them)  to copy the work of others.

Setting aside the current scandals, which must be resolved in light of existing laws and publishing practices, what can we do to prevent this in the future? How would we arrange things to dissuade future imitators of Ms. Serruya? What follows are four potential solutions, listed in order from least desirable to my favorite.

  1. Make Copyrights like Patents. Consider how copyrights differ from patents: they’re free; they’re automatic; they require no effort by the government. For a patent, though, you must pay the government to determine if your invention is distinctly different from previous patented devices. If the government grants your patent, you then have full government support and sanction for your device, and a solid legal foundation to go after those who dare to infringe. We could do the same with copyrighting books. Boy, would that ever slow down the publishing world!
  2. Make Amazon a Better Gatekeeper. Amazon and other distributors could set up anti-plagiarism software that detected if a proposed new book contained too many copied phrases from other books. Then they’d simply refuse to publish books that didn’t pass that algorithm. Although pressure from customers might force Amazon to do that, it’s not likely to happen, as explained by Jonathan Bailey in this post.
  3. Make Use of Private Plagiarism-Checking Services. Imagine if a private company offered (for a fee) to check your manuscript to see if you’d plagiarized. Assuming your manuscript passed, you would cite that acceptance when you published it, similar to the Underwriters Laboratory model for electrical systems. Readers might tend to select plagiarism-checked books over those not certified. This would put a financial burden on authors.
  4. Trust Readers. We could rely on astute readers to detect plagiarism, to notify the affected author, and to use social media to shame the plagiarizer publicly. This is, of course, where we are today. It requires no new laws, no fees, and no algorithms. It’s not perfect, but so far, it is proving workable.

If you think of other, better solutions, please leave a comment. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I wrote every word of my stories. Just ask my alter ego—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Chessiecon, Day 1

The Chessiecon science fiction conference got off to a great start today. I served as a panelist at a session titled “How Not to Get Published.”

Chessiecon 2018 panel: How Not to Get Published

From the left in the photo, that’s our moderator, Steve Kozeniewski, then panelists Scott Edelman, Karen Osborne, yours truly, and Linda Adams.

We had a nice-sized audience for the panel. It surprised me that so many people suffered from the problem of getting published all the time and wanted to know how to make it stop.

I had no idea the condition was that widespread, but our audience had at least taken an important first step toward a solution by attending our session.

Fortunately for them, I’m a bit of an expert in not getting published, so I was able to offer many tips and tricks.

It was an honor to serve together with such a distinguished panel. They kept things interesting and informative for the attendees, and Steve Kozeniewski kept us on track and posed intriguing questions.

Tomorrow, it’s back to the con for three more panels, a reading, and a group signing. Attend if you can, or read about it here in a post by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 24, 2018Permalink

Could You Be A Salaried Novelist?

What if you could quit your day job and earn a salary as a novelist? You’d write full time and get paid for it, even before you sold your novel. Does that sound good?

Early time clock. Photo by Rodw.

According to this article in The Bookseller, that’s the plan for a new, London-based publishing firm. Headed by Jonathan De Montfort, De Montfort Literature (DML), intends to pay chosen writers a salary of £2,000 per month (about $31K per year) to write novels. The company will also coach these writer/employees.

A hedge fund manager and novelist, De Monfort believes the traditional publishing model is “a mad way to do business.” By contrast, the software industry doesn’t expect its most creative employees to work on their own, unpaid, then submit their work product and receive payment only after acceptance of their product. De Monfort is betting authors will focus better and write more marketable novels if they aren’t stressing about money.

There are a couple of strings attached. First, DML would own the intellectual property and copyright to any novels you produce, and your “ideas,” too. That goes beyond what traditional publishers require. Second, according to the article, if you leave DML, you couldn’t write for another publisher for two years.

The website’s FAQ section says DML allows its writer employees 25 holidays plus bank holidays per year. Presumably, you’d be working the rest of the time, though it’s not clear how the company will monitor that. Chances are they won’t use a time clock like the one in this post’s image.

The company plans to pay salaries to ten writers as a start, and hopes to increase that number to one hundred later. They will choose their writers using a selection process featuring a prediction algorithm akin to the one De Monfort developed for predicting financial and economic events.

Although DML’s is a private venture, there are examples of government financial assistance to writers. The National Endowment for the Arts offers grants to writers, as do several states. Between 1969 and 2010, Ireland allowed its poets to work tax-free.

But DML’s model is different and, as far as I know, both pioneering and unique. This is a private publisher paying its writer employees a monthly salary up-front.

The book publishing industry is already undergoing considerable upheaval, with the explosion of independent publishers and self-publishing. The DML model may represent one more disruption to an already chaotic industry.

We’ll see if their experiment succeeds, both for the company and for its salaried authors. If it does, you can expect more publishers to try that model.

Time to stop blogging; I’ve got to clock in for my workday and earn my salary. My employer isn’t DML, it’s a rather demanding sea-deity. Remember, I’m—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 1, 2018Permalink

Best-Seller Foreteller?

What if a soothsayer could tell you if your manuscript would become a best-seller? If you were a publisher, you’d hire that soothsayer, right?

Throughout the history of the publishing industry, editors and publishers had to make buy-or-reject decisions based on experience and gut feel.

Welcome to the Age of Big Data.

Crystal ball image from Wikipedia

According to an article in The Telegraph , researchers at Stony Brook University used computers to analyze writing styles and could predict whether a book would be successful with up to 84% accuracy.

Following up on that, Jodie Archer and Matthew L Jockers wrote The Bestseller Code, a book about their algorithm (the “bestseller-o-meter”) that analyzes character, plot, setting, style, and theme to make its predictions. According to an article in BBC Culture, this strangely named algorithm is also highly accurate.

More recently, I read an article in BuiltinAustin about a company in Austin, Texas called AUTHORS.me that has developed their own algorithm, StoryFit, which they market to publishers.

These algorithms chew on massive amounts of data—thousands of novels—and perform statistical analyses. After being given test data about past novels for which the success or failure results are known, the algorithm “learns,” or at least develops rules, to distinguish best-sellers from flops. You then apply the algorithm to an unpublished manuscript and make a reasonable prediction. A crystal ball for novels.

Could this lead to a world where publishers reject your manuscript because their algorithm said it wouldn’t sell? Or a world where authors could edit their manuscript to add in the aspects such algorithms judge to be indicative of success? Could the writing and publishing of novels be reduced to a numbers game?

Not quite yet, apparently. The Stony Brook University algorithm struggled to predict the success of books in one genre—historical fiction. Also their algorithm “predicted” Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea would flop. Archer and Jockers’ bestseller-o-meter rated The Help by Kathryn Stockett as meh. Further, the novel achieving their algorithm’s highest score (The Circle by Dave Eggers) was a commercial failure.

Certainly, these artificially intelligent systems will improve and get more accurate in the coming years. They’ll identify trends in how the reading public’s tastes are changing. Maybe the algorithms will never be 100% right, and some books they reject will succeed and vice versa. Every now and then, an author tries something new and it sells well despite being unlike the norm. They do call them novels, after all.

As publishers make increasing use of tools that predict a novel’s success, and as authors begin to use similar tools to tune their manuscripts for market success, could it be that overall novel writing will improve? Will that lead to an increase in readership, a renewed clamor for books by the buying public?

I hope so. In the meantime, my new big-data algorithm has just finished analyzing all my previous blog posts, and states there is a 99% probability I’ll conclude this one by signing it—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Wagging the Long Tail

A few authors sell vast numbers of books, while most authors sell very few. If you could amass accurate data on that, it would probably look like a decaying exponential curve. It would have the Pareto property, where 20% of the authors sell 80% of the books—those on the left. However, today we’ll focus on the right side of the curve. Statisticians, with their penchant for arcane, hard-to-understand terminology, call that part “the long tail.”

The curve I present here is approximate and intended for illustrative purposes only. Note the vertical red line. Believe it or not, the number of books sold to the left of that line equals the number of books to the right.

Out on the tail of that curve are many, many authors who sell very few books. Looks a little lonely out there, doesn’t it? Most of those authors would love to move left on the curve, ideally all the way left. Readers only have so much money to spend on books, though, and they’re more likely to read books by authors they know.

Very few of those “long tail authors” will move much further left from where they are now, and only a tiny fraction will make it near the vertical axis into the stratospheric heights of the best-seller lists.

That may sound depressing, but let’s squint and take a closer look at that long tail. Each author represents a single point on that curve, but book distributors look at the curve differently. These days, they see the near-infinite length of the long tail as a new profit opportunity.

Distributors have realized we now live in the age of instant and easy searches for obscure information. With the ability to print books on demand, it doesn’t matter how few readers seek, for example, alternate history books about trips to the moon. What matters is that the book “A Tale More True” pops up in response to that search and a sale ensues.

In Wikipedia’s article on the long tail, they quote an Amazon employee as saying, “We sold more books today that didn’t sell at all yesterday than we sold today of all the books that did sell yesterday.”

You might have to read that again and let it sink in. I’ll wait.

In fact, now is the best time to be a long tail author. Let’s consider the set of those readers searching for steampunk books about planet-threatening comets. They easily find my book, “The Cometeers.” Among that admittedly small set of readers, I’m a best-selling author!

Here are a few more examples included for instructive purposes, and certainly not for crass self-promotion:

Readers search for books about: They find and buy:
Alternate histories involving the Ottoman Empire To Be First  
Romance stories taking place in Ancient Greece Against All Gods  
Stories involving Leonardo da Vinci’s inventions Leonardo’s Lion  
Sequel to War of the Worlds After the Martians  
Shakespearean clockpunk Time’s Deformèd Hand  

If you’re a long tail author, don’t despair. You have plenty of company; readers can find your books more readily than ever before; and book distributors now regard you as a profitable part of the book-selling enterprise. Happily wagging my tiny part of the long tail, you’ll find—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Of Brands and Platforms

In previous posts, I’ve mentioned ‘author branding’ a few times in passing, and wrote a post on ‘author platforms.’ But what’s the difference between the two, and is one more important than the other?

First, let’s define both terms. In Brian Niemeier’s post on the subject, he quotes Jane Friedman’s definition:

Author Platform = the proven ability to reach a target audience with visibility and authority

Niemeier then cites Joe Konrath’s definition of brand:

Author Brand = the reader’s linkage of author name with a positive reading experience

Author BrandTo understand branding, think of the effort major corporations put into getting customers to associate the corporations’ products and logo with a happy experience.

Philip Martin has listed the ways author branding is akin to religious faith, though I wouldn’t go that far, and the analogy with religions quickly breaks down. In my view, it’s better to think of branding in the context of corporations, such as those marketing fast food or soft drinks.

Even better, think of your favorite authors. Just the act of recalling each of their names evokes the linked memories of your satisfaction with their books. For each author, you form the mental gestalt of their genre, writing style, typical settings, and common character types. The whole pleasurable reading experience comes flooding back to you upon the mere mention of a name.

That’s the effect you want to create in your readers. How do you do that? First, write great fiction. Ensure some commonality between your stories, in genre, style, settings, or character types. The more of these that are in common between your books, the more effective your branding will be, since readers will better know what to expect. You’ll achieve the consistency necessary for closer linkage of your name with your body of work. Lastly, you’ll have to do the marketing necessary to keep reinforcing that mental connection of name to experience.

Once you achieve effective branding, where a tribe of loyal readers associates your name with a great reading experience, then they will spread the word about you, and through them you’ll reach new readers. It’s that ability to reach new readers that is your platform.

Having defined and described platform and branding, what is the relationship between the two? Obviously, they’re related and intertwined. If you have a recognizable brand, you’ll have constructed a platform, which further establishes and cements your brand.

Think of platform as being from the point of view of a major publisher. Traditional publishers don’t often risk publishing works by authors who don’t already have a platform. Think of brand as being from the point of view of the reader. It’s in the reader’s mind where the desired linkage of name and experience occurs.

In my view, brand comes first, then it builds your platform, which then reinforces your brand and they snowball together after that.

That’s it, pardner. I reckon you better stop readin’ this an’ start heatin’ up your brandin’ iron. You got a heap o’ work to do, and so does—

Poseidon’s Scribe

When to Quit Writing

You really, really wanted to be a well-known author. You did everything right; you devoured books about writing; you read every blog post by Poseidon’s Scribe; you joined critique groups; and you went to writers conferences. Most of all, you wrote all the time, turned out stories and sent them to all the markets…

…and got only rejections, no acceptances.

Undeterred, you turned to self-publishing. These days, who needs an editor or publisher, right? You became an “indie” author…

…and sold nothing.

QuittingNow you’re wondering if you’re cut out to be an author. You’re wondering if you should quit.

After all, there have been other times when you hoped to be good at something, tried it for a while, and gave it up—those guitar lessons, those pre-med classes you took in college, high-school basketball, the internship in the law firm.

Sometimes it takes a few tries to find out where your talents are. There’s no shame in trying something and finding out you just can’t do it. Now it looks like you’ll have to add ‘famous author’ to the list of jobs you’re not suited to. Just one more item on the list, that’s all.

But you’re torn. You know that the ‘famous author’ thing is partly about luck. Maybe mostly about luck. What if your next book is destined to be your breakout book, the one that propels you to best-seller lists, fame, huge advances, and movie deals? You’d hate to quit writing when you’re just one book away from all that.

How do you know when it’s time to give up? Lucky for you, you surfed to the right blog post. I’m going to give you a simple equation. Here it is:

A + B – C = D

A = All-consuming inner drive to write for its own sake.

B = Belief that you want to be a famous, successful author.

C = Cumulative frustration with the rejections and lack of sales

D = Decision factor.

Simply figure out the values for A, B, and C and plug them in. If D is positive, stick with your writing. If D is negative, it’s time to quit and find something else.

(Yeah, I know it’s subjective. What do you want from me, a calibrated quit-o-meter?)

Quitting graphsLet’s work through some examples. The horizontal axis is time. The vertical axis is the strength or intensity of each equation term. You might start writing without much drive to write for its own sake (A), but more of a belief in achieving fame and fortune (B). Most often, those reverse over time as the realism of the writing profession sinks in, while frustration accumulates (C). Remember, as long as D stays positive, you’ll keep writing.

Obviously, the key variable is A, the all-consuming inner drive to write for its own sake. So long as that stays greater than the cumulative frustration, you’ll stick with it.

So there you have it, an explanation that’s all scientific and mathematical. With an equation and everything. Are you going to argue with respected scientists and mathematicians?

You can read some great advice on the subject of whether to give up writing by Jane Friedman and Kameron Hurley (guest-posting on Chuck Wendig’s site).

May you meet with enough success in your writing that you won’t have to face a decision about whether to quit or not. That’s the fervent hope of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 18, 2015Permalink

12 Reasons to Change Your Name

Pen NamesAs a writer of fiction, you might choose to be published under a name other than your real one for a variety of reasons. The use of pen names, (or nom de plumes, literary doubles, or pseudonyms, if you prefer) is not uncommon. Although I’ve blogged about one reason for pen names before, I figured I’d provide a more comprehensive list of reasons today.

• The first three on my list have to do with Branding.
1. To separate your books into different genres or types or styles. For each name, readers know what to expect.
2. To give the reader the impression the book is an autobiography. You can adopt a character’s name as your pen name, as Daniel Handler did by choosing Lemony Snicket as a nom de plume in A Series of Unfortunate Events.
3. To share the same pen name with other authors, making it seem like a book series was written by one person. With the Tom Swift series of children’s books, several authors wrote under the single pen name, Victor Appleton.

• You may have reasons to shield your true identity.
4. To keep your real name in reserve until you’re a more established author. Eric Blair used the name George Orwell for this purpose, though it’s not clear what he was waiting for!
5. To protect your reputation. As a don at Oxford University, C. S. Lewis got published under the names Clive Hamilton and N. W. Clerk for this purpose.
6. To maintain your privacy. Enough said.

• There may be problems with your real name.
7. To choose a name more appropriate to the genre you write in. Pearl Grey chose the pen name Zane Grey for his Westerns.
8. To present yourself as the other gender. As a woman, you might feel your military adventure novels would sell better with a man’s name as the author, and similarly for you men who write romance novels.
9. To enable readers to more easily pronounce your name. Face it, some names are difficult to say.
10. To distinguish yourself from someone else. Your real name might spell or sound like another person (or thing). The British statesman and author Winston Churchill always wrote under the name Winston S. Churchill (I know, not much of a pseudonym) to avoid being confused with the then-famous American author Winston Churchill.

• Sometimes the publisher has reasons for suggesting a pen name.
11. To enable several of your stories to appear in the same magazine. Thus Robert A. Heinlein became also Anson MacDonald and Caleb Strong to avoid the appearance that a single author was monopolizing that issue.
12. To keep from saturating the market. If you write very fast, publishers might fear the public will see your name too often and tire of your novels too quickly. For this reason, some of Stephen King’s books were published under the name Richard Bachman.

Sure, there might be additional reasons for using a pen name. You don’t really need a reason, after all. It’s a personal choice and nobody’s business except yours and the publisher’s. (You’ll want your publisher to know your real name so they send those huge advance and royalty checks to the right account!)

Other good sites or blog posts that list reasons for pen names include this one, this one, and this one.

Oh, yeah, in case you were wondering, my real name isn’t—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 14, 2014Permalink