A Support Group for Pen Name Writers
This is some next level self loathing
One fine Saturday morning (yesterday), I brewed a fresh pot of coffee and sat down for my daily read before starting my day. Instead of reading I ended up engaging in some light conversation with fellow writer ZUVA, whom I respect very much.
After we caught up, the conversation turned toward our pen names. She and I both write under two different names — ourselves, and an alternate identity.
It’s been no secret that I write under two different names, just as several of us do. None of us care to reveal our second identities because that’s kind of the point.
I asked Zuva how her pen name is doing these days and she admitted that it is kicking ass and even going viral, even though her real self hasn’t written anything in weeks.
Immediately I felt an “OMG!” because the same thing is happening to me. In fact, when I logged on to check my stats the other night, my pen name was celebrating triple the earnings over my actual self. And she’s kind of a bitch.
To be fair, she’s not really a bitch but she’s definitely obtuse and has zero filter.
How can obtuse be better than authentic me? I’m spilling my heart out over here for nothing, when my pen name is protesting about all the things and kicking my own ass in the process.
Competing with myself feels a little unhealthy. I mean, it’s still me writing as her but somehow I feel like we are in competition. My pen name is over there sitting on the beach with a rum punch in her hand, while I’m over here cooking corn chowder and celebrating earth shattering lows.
My insensitive self seems to be the newest pet for curators, but my real self is being rejected from publications other than my own, or ones I’m an editor for.
It’s hard not to hate her.
I swear, if I find her settled into a Jamaican sunset, while I’m slaving away in a Canadian January, there will be hell to pay.
I also had a short conversation with Edie Tuck, after reading her piece about scrambling for pennies. We babbled on about the apparent massive decline in stats and engagement during the holidays.
But my pen name? Like I said, she’s maxing out on record breaking highs like never before. On January 4th she topped the charts at our most reads EVER, for both profiles.
So, the simple fact is that the readers ARE around. Just not for nice, real people.
Maybe everyone is tired of putting on “holiday face” and they’re not trying to be nice for Santa anymore. They’re ready to tear down the walls and let loose now that the bells are no longer jingling.
I wanted to kick off 2020 with brand new vim and vigor but sadly, my nice brain couldn’t play along. In fact, I’ve struggled SO hard writing as myself lately that I had to let my phone make up a story for me the other day. Lame.
Why is my bitchy self finding it so easy? And why can’t I just love her for it, because ultimately it’s just me. Should it matter who’s writing what content, if I’m benefiting from it in the long run?
I feel like those of us who write under pen names need to start a support group to help us work through competing with our ourselves. It feels weird to be jealous of our pen name’s successes. Is it even a thing to be jealous of oneself?
Just as I was about to publish this story, I found one written by the fabulous Hurriya Burney, about how comparison is the curse of being human. Right now, I can say it really is.
She brings up some remarkable points in it, including one that resonates with the point I’m trying to make here. It’s only natural and human to compare ourselves with others who might be better or worse off.
But as she also states, it may be more important to compare like with like. Ourselves with ourselves. No one is more like us than we are.
At least self comparison levels the playing field and allows us some introspection. It may also allow us to be our own support group and cheering section.
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