This was perfectly timed, Sari. I have a couple of things I want to write about but I'm either scared or uncomfortable because of the way in which they implicate other people I once was close to. I've been debating fictionalizing these stories, but this is another option. Thank you for your wisdom, as always.
This was so helpful. Thank you for the freedom to think outside of my name. The option of having a Mary Poppins umbrella to transport me out of Troll Land is exhilarating. To be continued.
Thank you for revealing this inner struggle that so many writers experience. I hope you ultimately find peace over this. And I love the new name, Memoir Land.
Dear Sari, I love your writing and your honesty about struggling with pseudonyms and other things connected with writing and publishing. Your writing really spoke to me. I feel inspired by it. I feel grateful, too. I'm going through a hard time at the moment and, even though I know that writing is therapeutic for me, and that I must keep the writing thread intact, I have days when I just can't seem to get to my desk. Your piece about pseudonyms - and your persistence- has given me strength. Thank you.
I must use a pseudonym because of the nature of my career. Friends I invite to subscribe to my substack know who I am and that's fine, but there is no way I can write what I want without a pen name. It's just the way my world worked. Also, I am very private by nature, have no need for recognition, but want to share my experiences with my kids. Along the way, I found friends who wanted to know more, so I include them, but I have no desire to see my name on a publication.
I have come upon this several times, credit to Anne Lamott “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
I see the struggle with using your own name and the relative ease ( or comfort? ) that comes from publishing anonymously. Please keep in mind that people owe each other kindness and if they haven't shown that to you ask yourself how much you owe to them.
Thank you! That said, people in the memoir field have come to see that Lamott quote as just scratching the surface. Being fair, in the writing and in life, is much more complicated than that. Check out Melissa Febos's new book, Body Work, where she touches on this, especially in the chapter called A Big Shitty Party, reprinted here in The Kenyon Review: https://kenyonreview.org/piece/melissa-febos/
I love, love, love this article! It dropped into my mailbox at the precise moment I was contemplating whether to change my account name on substack before I launch my publication this Friday. I'm in a serious conundrum. Part of my struggles is similar to what you described here. The other part is that I'm concerned about the serious repercussions from writing about certain political events that took place in the country where I came from. Although the bulk of my writing won't be political, some of it will be socio-political in nature, and I plan to put them behind the pay wall. But still, I'm worried about potential spies from that country paying for a subscription if my writing ever gets read widely. Do you have any suggestions?
Glad you found this helpful, Louisa! I know that Substack recommends making your name part of your newsletter's URL, but it might be safer for you do do what I've done, and make the names of the publications the URL instead? I have three newsletters, and none of them have my name in the URL.
Thank you for your suggestion, Sari. I have already set my URL to the publication name. However, my account name will be seen on the site--and that's what I'm concerned about. I really want to be courageous in speaking about my truth, but these concerns are holding me back...
I understand your concerns because I have similar concerns. Nothing on my account, including my email address and copyright holder identify me. While anyone can eventually be outed, at least make them work for it. I work hard to write factual accounts of what I have experienced in the world, but still have a few axes that need to be ground, which I will do with as much grace and humour as I can muster.
I do draw a line between our common human foibles and the actions of truly wicked people, so I reserve the right to withhold forgiveness to evil doers who Venn diagrammed with my life in some way. I'm looking at you, Bob Mugabe, Siad Barre, Haille Mengistu, and a few other monsters. I don't mind speaking out loudly about them. But others who are still in power over countries and people I care about must be handled more discretely.
Even truth spoken in whispers is still truth. Even if the speaker is anonymous what she says truthfully cannot be discounted.
Thank you for your understanding and inspiration. I also understand why you have chosen to be anonymous. Yes there are certainly evil doers in the world who won't blink an eye when millions are killed or strippes of their human rights and dignity.
Thanks for sharing with me how you can still practice vulnerability in your writing while having a pseudonym. I'm still torn about the issue, and will give it some more thoughts.
Louisa, my life was torn apart by what I experienced during my long career in humanitarian aid. I decided in 2006 that I had no more to give, so I returned home and began a decent into the darkness that I describe on my substack. With a lot of help, I started to take back my life, my memories and my friends. I first remember realizing I was making a turn for the better when a friend pushed me, almost literally, to put my energy back into doing something good with skills I acquired during my career. I volunteered for a couple of years to help people rebuild their lives in a small town in Northern California that was destroyed by a wild fire.
I admit that I was terrified to go there, knowing that so many of the residents lost everything and were traumatized by what they experienced, and that their trauma would affect me. I decided to trust what I learned from my kind counselors on how to deal with my own traumatic experiences so I could help those who were also traumatised. Sometimes I went off by myself to recenter, to remind myself I was in no danger, and to refocus on why I was there, but I was able to stay in control.
On just one occasion I felt things were slipping out of control for me while I was working there. Another big wildfire started near the town where we were working and burned toward us. Firefighters were flown in aboard Blackhawk helicopters that create a distinctive sound when they fly. It is an especially potent trigger for me, along with the ringtone of Nokia phones, and when it flew over us at low altitude, but not visible because of the heavy smoke, I deliberately took myself away from everything to a quiet place and worked my way through my reaction. (As I write this, I can feel the anxiety creeping up on me from the memories.) I can brag a little, because at that moment, I knew I was stronger than the triggers. I will probably always struggle with symptoms of PTSD, but I know I am stronger than those traumatic experiences in my past because I survived them and it gives me confidence to, well, write about it on substack! It's no longer a thing I must hide and for which I feel shame.
I got my life back by giving it away in service to people in desperate need. I got it back because I learned I was stronger than my trauma. And now I have found a way to continue taking it back by sharing my stories with who ever wants to read them. I hope I can do it with humor, compassion, and empathy, and I really hope what I have learned can help others who have experienced their own traumas.
My only requirement, my line in the sand, is that I choose to remain anonymous. I don't know how else to be honest about many of the things I have experienced. I encourage you to think of anonymity in that context. Even if people don't know your name, they can sense your honesty. And unlike most internet uses of pseudonyms, where people hide behind anonymity so they can snark and attack, your need is legitimate.
Warm regards.
P.s. you might consider using a burner email address. When I first started on substack, I used my primary address that is basically my name at gmail.com, but when I saw it in my substack details, I deleted my entire account and started over using a burner address.
Thank you for giving me a glimpse of your traumatic experience and what you chose to do about it. It sounds like writing about it helps you with your healing process. This is basically why I want to write and publish on Substack as well. P.S. Thanks for your tip on the email showing up on newsletters. I just saw that too.
I dug a little bit deeper into the setting, and found that there's a field called "Email address for RSS feeds" -- it allows you to put an alias to it and all emails from you will have this format: alias@substack.com. So it essentially shields your real email address. Seems like a good alternate option to me.
OMG, Sari, this piece outlines some fucking crucial things that I've long thought about but never been able to articulate, something about the courage to be authentic in a way that is so real its frightening. Women are so much more frightened by that kind of courage for all the reasons you mentioned, and the ones included in the Longreads piece you edited. Your skills as a compassionate and insightful writer and editor are matchless, and a great example for anyone to follow.
As you know, I have published anonymously to save my mom a little embarrassment she doesn't deserve, and have fictionalized my own life while not feeling free to write a true memoir for similar reasons (among which, no one tells me the truth so how can I be sure I'm writing truth?) but once the people concerned are all dead in a few years, all bets are off.
This was perfectly timed, Sari. I have a couple of things I want to write about but I'm either scared or uncomfortable because of the way in which they implicate other people I once was close to. I've been debating fictionalizing these stories, but this is another option. Thank you for your wisdom, as always.
This was so helpful. Thank you for the freedom to think outside of my name. The option of having a Mary Poppins umbrella to transport me out of Troll Land is exhilarating. To be continued.
My pleasure.
I found a name! Another exhilaration.
Thank you for revealing this inner struggle that so many writers experience. I hope you ultimately find peace over this. And I love the new name, Memoir Land.
Its hard to put thoughts into paper and I know the struggle.. readers can check my piece..https://kallolpoetry.substack.com/p/he-consumed-me-everyday-so-i-devoured
Dear Sari, I love your writing and your honesty about struggling with pseudonyms and other things connected with writing and publishing. Your writing really spoke to me. I feel inspired by it. I feel grateful, too. I'm going through a hard time at the moment and, even though I know that writing is therapeutic for me, and that I must keep the writing thread intact, I have days when I just can't seem to get to my desk. Your piece about pseudonyms - and your persistence- has given me strength. Thank you.
I must use a pseudonym because of the nature of my career. Friends I invite to subscribe to my substack know who I am and that's fine, but there is no way I can write what I want without a pen name. It's just the way my world worked. Also, I am very private by nature, have no need for recognition, but want to share my experiences with my kids. Along the way, I found friends who wanted to know more, so I include them, but I have no desire to see my name on a publication.
I have come upon this several times, credit to Anne Lamott “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
I see the struggle with using your own name and the relative ease ( or comfort? ) that comes from publishing anonymously. Please keep in mind that people owe each other kindness and if they haven't shown that to you ask yourself how much you owe to them.
Thank you! That said, people in the memoir field have come to see that Lamott quote as just scratching the surface. Being fair, in the writing and in life, is much more complicated than that. Check out Melissa Febos's new book, Body Work, where she touches on this, especially in the chapter called A Big Shitty Party, reprinted here in The Kenyon Review: https://kenyonreview.org/piece/melissa-febos/
I love, love, love this article! It dropped into my mailbox at the precise moment I was contemplating whether to change my account name on substack before I launch my publication this Friday. I'm in a serious conundrum. Part of my struggles is similar to what you described here. The other part is that I'm concerned about the serious repercussions from writing about certain political events that took place in the country where I came from. Although the bulk of my writing won't be political, some of it will be socio-political in nature, and I plan to put them behind the pay wall. But still, I'm worried about potential spies from that country paying for a subscription if my writing ever gets read widely. Do you have any suggestions?
Glad you found this helpful, Louisa! I know that Substack recommends making your name part of your newsletter's URL, but it might be safer for you do do what I've done, and make the names of the publications the URL instead? I have three newsletters, and none of them have my name in the URL.
Thank you for your suggestion, Sari. I have already set my URL to the publication name. However, my account name will be seen on the site--and that's what I'm concerned about. I really want to be courageous in speaking about my truth, but these concerns are holding me back...
I understand your concerns because I have similar concerns. Nothing on my account, including my email address and copyright holder identify me. While anyone can eventually be outed, at least make them work for it. I work hard to write factual accounts of what I have experienced in the world, but still have a few axes that need to be ground, which I will do with as much grace and humour as I can muster.
I do draw a line between our common human foibles and the actions of truly wicked people, so I reserve the right to withhold forgiveness to evil doers who Venn diagrammed with my life in some way. I'm looking at you, Bob Mugabe, Siad Barre, Haille Mengistu, and a few other monsters. I don't mind speaking out loudly about them. But others who are still in power over countries and people I care about must be handled more discretely.
Even truth spoken in whispers is still truth. Even if the speaker is anonymous what she says truthfully cannot be discounted.
Thank you for your understanding and inspiration. I also understand why you have chosen to be anonymous. Yes there are certainly evil doers in the world who won't blink an eye when millions are killed or strippes of their human rights and dignity.
Thanks for sharing with me how you can still practice vulnerability in your writing while having a pseudonym. I'm still torn about the issue, and will give it some more thoughts.
Louisa, my life was torn apart by what I experienced during my long career in humanitarian aid. I decided in 2006 that I had no more to give, so I returned home and began a decent into the darkness that I describe on my substack. With a lot of help, I started to take back my life, my memories and my friends. I first remember realizing I was making a turn for the better when a friend pushed me, almost literally, to put my energy back into doing something good with skills I acquired during my career. I volunteered for a couple of years to help people rebuild their lives in a small town in Northern California that was destroyed by a wild fire.
I admit that I was terrified to go there, knowing that so many of the residents lost everything and were traumatized by what they experienced, and that their trauma would affect me. I decided to trust what I learned from my kind counselors on how to deal with my own traumatic experiences so I could help those who were also traumatised. Sometimes I went off by myself to recenter, to remind myself I was in no danger, and to refocus on why I was there, but I was able to stay in control.
On just one occasion I felt things were slipping out of control for me while I was working there. Another big wildfire started near the town where we were working and burned toward us. Firefighters were flown in aboard Blackhawk helicopters that create a distinctive sound when they fly. It is an especially potent trigger for me, along with the ringtone of Nokia phones, and when it flew over us at low altitude, but not visible because of the heavy smoke, I deliberately took myself away from everything to a quiet place and worked my way through my reaction. (As I write this, I can feel the anxiety creeping up on me from the memories.) I can brag a little, because at that moment, I knew I was stronger than the triggers. I will probably always struggle with symptoms of PTSD, but I know I am stronger than those traumatic experiences in my past because I survived them and it gives me confidence to, well, write about it on substack! It's no longer a thing I must hide and for which I feel shame.
I got my life back by giving it away in service to people in desperate need. I got it back because I learned I was stronger than my trauma. And now I have found a way to continue taking it back by sharing my stories with who ever wants to read them. I hope I can do it with humor, compassion, and empathy, and I really hope what I have learned can help others who have experienced their own traumas.
My only requirement, my line in the sand, is that I choose to remain anonymous. I don't know how else to be honest about many of the things I have experienced. I encourage you to think of anonymity in that context. Even if people don't know your name, they can sense your honesty. And unlike most internet uses of pseudonyms, where people hide behind anonymity so they can snark and attack, your need is legitimate.
Warm regards.
P.s. you might consider using a burner email address. When I first started on substack, I used my primary address that is basically my name at gmail.com, but when I saw it in my substack details, I deleted my entire account and started over using a burner address.
Thank you for giving me a glimpse of your traumatic experience and what you chose to do about it. It sounds like writing about it helps you with your healing process. This is basically why I want to write and publish on Substack as well. P.S. Thanks for your tip on the email showing up on newsletters. I just saw that too.
I dug a little bit deeper into the setting, and found that there's a field called "Email address for RSS feeds" -- it allows you to put an alias to it and all emails from you will have this format: alias@substack.com. So it essentially shields your real email address. Seems like a good alternate option to me.
OMG, Sari, this piece outlines some fucking crucial things that I've long thought about but never been able to articulate, something about the courage to be authentic in a way that is so real its frightening. Women are so much more frightened by that kind of courage for all the reasons you mentioned, and the ones included in the Longreads piece you edited. Your skills as a compassionate and insightful writer and editor are matchless, and a great example for anyone to follow.
This is so kind of you to say, Alicia. Thank you. <3
As you know, I have published anonymously to save my mom a little embarrassment she doesn't deserve, and have fictionalized my own life while not feeling free to write a true memoir for similar reasons (among which, no one tells me the truth so how can I be sure I'm writing truth?) but once the people concerned are all dead in a few years, all bets are off.
Yes. (Same.) <3
Hmmm. Interesting. I never considered using a pseudonym. This has given me something to think about.
It's worth trying at least once...
I think so. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I've been thinking of fictionalizing some things. But you've given me another option.
Glad to help!