I think I’ve lost my name. What happens when two writers with the same name are trying to publish debut novels around the same time?
“Libby Page”, the name I’ve been going by since my parents gave it to me, may be gone, at least as something I can publish under. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of the other Libby Page, a UK writer who wrote a book on the color pink eight years ago, but I doubted anyone would get us confused. That is until I learned about her six-figure book deal on a debut novel due out in 2018 on thebookseller.com.
I don’t know if I can really claim to have developed a lot of name recognition since most of what I’ve written in the last 7 years is marketing copy. I’ve just started the search for an agent and publisher and she’s already got the deal, so from what I know of the pace of the publishing industry, she may have won. Libby, if you’re reading this, you seem pretty together, and I’m planning to read your book when it comes out. I just wish you went by Liz, or Liza, Eliza, Beth, Betsy, or one of the other 20+ nicknames for Elizabeth instead of mine.
Now I’ve got to decide what to do. First idea that came to me was the obvious option of using Elizabeth. I pulled out the old Google for a search, and bam, roadblock again. Elizabeth Page was a novelist around the turn of the 20th century and there’s another Elizabeth Page who’s an Emmy winning screenwriter. Apparently a glut of women with the last name “Page” feel like they need to be writers. I know, it’s cute. The pun has been pointed out to me on multiple occasions, but it’s just one more reason I hate losing my name.
Okay, clearly I need to get more creative. There are still a few obvious options on the table. What about initials? E.A. Page, isn’t awful, although it does remind me a bit too much of E.L. James. (Sorry Fifty Shades of Grey fans). Another vote for initials, as J.K. Rowling and J.D. Robb will tell you, there are advantages to be had for playing down one’s membership in the girl club. (Sad but somehow still true)
I also don’t love the idea of a straight-up pseudonym. Although it did work for Mark Twain. What about Samantha Clemens? Uh, maybe not.
Mark Twain, awesome pseudonym
So, this leaves me with no name. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling and sparking a rather acute subcutaneous existential crisis. I suppose until or unless some wise publishing person tells me otherwise, I’ll just add a middle initial.
And if there is a silver lining to losing a name, it’s that it’s a great ego tamer. The work always has to come first.
J.K. Rowling once said in an interview when discussing the publisher’s recommendation that she not use “Joanne” in her byline: “[T]hey could have called me Enid Snodgrass. I just wanted it [the book] published.”
At this point, I’d take “Enid” too.
