For ages, I've been going by David Aarons, which is simply my first and middle names with an S tacked onto the end, but I've always felt like it didn't flow properly. If I'm going to build a brand around a name (and fiction writers definitely need to do exactly that), I need it to roll off the tongue but stick in your head. I have nothing against my birth name of David Aaron Huff, but there's just something about my surname that wouldn't work on the cover of a book, and David Aarons (which I've been using for a long time) feels like a gear grinds up somewhere halfway through.
So I figured I'd add a middle name to that! I've already co-opted my own middle name, made some alterations, and repurposed it as a surname. Putting a spacer in there should do fine. I finally picked one a few days ago, and after some settling into it, it's still working for me, so say hello to David Zaine Aarons.
Sure, it's arbitrary, but I like the sound and look of it. It has a certain weight to it.
Anyway, the main reason for this post is not the announcement of my official pen name, but rather that all of this thought of names has led me to think quite a bit about the nature of names themselves, and how we relate to them.
A name is a definition, sometimes a statement of identity, sometimes of nature, sometimes of both. We use them to keep infinite thoughts and ideas and objects and creatures and people separate from one another and in order in our minds. Sometimes the name reflects the named, and sometimes the opposite happens. But something that fascinates me about all of this is that some names have colors and shapes and ideas associated with them directly, and it's not always possible to know whether those concepts were tethered to those names by language and culture or if they're attached to something deep in the base of our psyches.
Some are clearly cultural, even pop cultural. In the US, at least, if you hear of someone named Thor, you probably expect a large, muscular individual (most likely wielding a hammer) to be behind that name. However, if you're from a Scandinavian country where the name would be a little more common, you may not necessarily have those same preconceptions, despite the fact that the mythology originated closer to home. If you hear the names Nigel or Reginald, just TRY and tell me you don't half expect to see a stereotypical, possibly even anachronistic Brit when you're introduced, because I hear those names and all I think of is this guy:
I love the fact that some names have this kind of information stapled to them. This didn't have anything in particular to do with my motivations for altering my pen name; that decision was a purely aesthetic one. Oddly enough, I find that I already think of myself by that name. When asked my name, my mind defaults to the one I've chosen for myself rather than the one that I've had for almost 22 years. Self-definition trumps Pavlovian conditioning, haha. Some part of me is surprised at that, but to be honest, in a way it makes sense. We all have our own conceptions of ourselves; of who we are and what constitutes our nature and being. Sometimes the names we were given don't quite fit with those ideas. Maybe there's something in our subconscious that is prepared to accept and apply something that is subjectively perceived as being more "us".
In my case, I may have an extra leg up on that, as I've gone through a massive redefinition of personal identity over the last few years. I feel, almost literally, that I am not the same person as I was in high school. As over-dramatic and pretentious as it sounds to say it this way, maybe David Aaron Huff died when he was about 18, and David Zaine Aarons was born in that instant.
Perhaps it's silly to feel like my name should reflect the changes in my beliefs and personality, but it's not the only thing that's changed as I have. One of the reasons I'm so attached to my long hair and goatee is that in my head, they have a sort of personal symbolism. They help to separate me as I am from me as I was. They represent something to me. I suspect most people have something like this; nobody's the same person from adolescence to adulthood, and most of us probably recognize that.
Picking a pen name is good, but it's still a pretty small step. I'm a master of procrastination, and I need to figure out how to turn off the autopilot on that, because I'm not getting as much done as I need to be as far as writing is concerned. I need to discipline myself into steadily working every day, and I'm struggling to implement that new habit into my daily life. It's very easy to keep telling myself that I'll work in a few minutes. There's such a wealth of distractions on all sides; I'm guaranteed to be well-supplied with things to do. So many movies and TV shows to watch, so many books to read, so much music and so many podcasts or radio shows to listen to, so many games to play. It's all too simple to let all of that stimulus crowd out how many stories I have to tell.
Writing is fun, and I love it, but it's a lot of work. I know quite a few people who assume that writing must be a really cushy job, and I suppose it is if you define 'cushy' as 'not involving hefting blocks of raw stone in the hot sun'. But it involves a lot, especially fiction, at least if you intend to go about it properly. Everyone has their methods, but I have to conceptualize and flesh out ideas and painstakingly outline and structure a complete story before I actually go about writing it. I need to know where I'm going and thoroughly understand who I'm traveling with so that I can tell the story the way it needs to be told. As much fun as it is, that's a lot of work, and then once that's finished, I go into the writing process, which is about 1% inspired art and 99% the verbal equivalent of manual labor. It's not at all difficult to look at all that work and the sheer scale of the collected tasks ahead and decide to go watch Doctor Who instead.
Not to mention the fact that something Robert A. Heinlein once said often springs to mind: "The first million words don't count." Odds are good that you'll need to write a million words or so of fiction before you start producing publishable work. I'm not intimidated by the number so much as I simply hate the idea of wasting a perfectly good story. If I'm going to tell the story, I want it to be heard!
But those are walls I know must be torn down. Ass in chair, hands on keyboard, no sidetracking, no procrastination, every day, whether I feel 'inspired' or not. And I can always return to a story and rewrite it later if I feel like it needs to be published. What's important is that I stop putting off the trip and start getting there.
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