Someone asked me what my name was today and I swear I almost said Crystal Jordan. Then when I was typing in my username to my personal email account, I typed in crystal.jordan
Um, yeah.
Sorry to burst your bubble if you thought it was, but Crystal Jordan is not my real name. I’m protecting my family’s innocence (or at least their rep at the local holy roller’s convention) by taking on a pseudonym.
So, I wanted to talk about the weirdness of it all being a person pretending to be a writer pretending to be a person (if you don’t know where that rhythm of words comes from, you must go watch Julie Andrews in Victor Victoria)
We have a delicate balance to strike as writers. Especially when we get to the point where we’re doing book signings. Since my first print book comes out in August, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. It’ll be something of a public “outting” of my little secret. It only takes one person who knows me in real life to walk into a bookstore I’m signing in to see my pen name and poof, there goes that secret. Librarians are all about information sharing (i.e. total gossip-whores), so that would be one wildfire of a rumor around the library the next day.
Does that make me paranoid? A little, yeah.
Plus, Crystal Jordan is a bit more wicked and gregarious than the “real” Crystal–it’s still me, but with all the politeness filters blown off. So if any of my colleagues saw me in that situation it might shock the crap out of them. Of course, part of me thinks that might be fun, but the other part is a little horrified the people who know me as a nice, staid librarian might get to see me walking on my wild side. Not exactly the mental image I want them to have when we’re talking about me getting tenure at the university…or while I’m being the leader/enforcer during a meeting. I have a feeling it might lower their respect for me some, and on a lot of levels that upsets me. It’s a bad, bad thing.
So, how do I find that balance? I have to do book signings, I have to promo my work, but the thought of people giving me the “I know what you do on the weekends, you dirty wench” look is rather daunting.
You know, these are the things they never tell you you’ll have to deal with when you finally sell to New York and have that shining-awesome print book in your hot little hands. ![]()












