And My New Name Is...

by Felicia Donovan

I recently bumped into a fellow author at a party for a mutual friend. This gentleman, whom I'll refer to as "George," is a fairly successful published author with a mystery series. On several occasions, we have chatted (make that "commiserated") about the joys and frustrations of the publishing world, while checking in on each others' writing projects.

I asked George how his latest book was coming along. He smiled smugly and said, "I just gave Mary (the party hostess), a review copy. It will be out in two months."

"Really? Can I see it?" I asked looking around the room.

For a second, his eyes landed on a nearby table. I followed his glance to see the soft cover copy sitting, face down, next to a birthday gift. I took a step forward, but felt George's firm hand on my arm.

"I'm using a pseudonym."

I paused mid-step and turned to face him.

"Really?"

George rubbed his wrinkled chin with the palm of his hand.

"It's my agent's idea. You know how it is. Old guy like me can't draw in the young crowd so she thought I could reinvent myself. It's all very silly if you ask me, but don't you know I landed a three-book deal?"

"A three book deal?"

"And," he continued, "it's a better contract than I ever had with my series. You know how those marketing people are. They came up with some younger sounding name and I'm supposed to be some hip young guy in his late twenties. Go figure..."

His words conveyed disdain but there was a clear glimmer of deep satisfaction in his eyes.

"It's the business we're in. After all, they don't call it 'fiction' for nothing..."

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And my new name is...