Dalton Reed now = D. Dalton

My name isn’t Dalton Reed, it’s Deborah Dalton.

I hid behind that fake name for a couple of bad reasons. One, the main character’s name is so close to my own. Two, it’s the internet and I didn’t want to spill my identity all over it. Okay, maybe those are actually justifiable, but I didn’t come up with them until after I’d already chosen a pen name.

The real reason was that I was afraid. Of what? Everything? Nothing? My own shadow? Criticism could bounce off a fake name. No one would know it was me. No one could recognize me (and who recognizes authors anyway?).

As mentioned above, one the reasons I stuck with my sobriquet was that I choose a name so close to my own for the hero. That’s technically bad form. Originally, she bore the appellation Dylan. However, I was still strolling through the ‘D’ section of a baby name’s website (which earned me some awkward questions from friends) and came across Derora. Angels sang, the heavens parted and I’m pretty sure that pond in my parents’ back yard split to allow some squirrels passage to escape from the neighbor’s dog. “That’s it!”

Mental brakes screeched. I couldn’t use a name so close to my own. So, I ignored it. And I kept ignoring it. I kept ignoring it so much that it was all I could think about. I emailed some friends asking which was better, Dylan or Derora? I bet you can guess how they replied.

The other main reason for adopting a pen name is that I didn’t want people to know it was me. I didn’t want to be me. Not just in writing, either. I gave up on soccer, fencing, Tae Kwon Do and running. I let myself get addicted to sugar. I’m at a dead end job far below my college degree. Why? It was the easiest path. I like the people here; but I’ve always voluntarily passed up for a higher grade position. The thought of it makes my brain feel green. You know it’s an ominous indication when you’re thinking in colors.

That’s what I’ve been doing. Following the easiest path. Water follows the easiest path, and water always winds up on a downhill slope.

I’ve learned from my characters. They’re not stupid like me. Der is honest to herself. She knows what she wants to do, and doesn’t let the odds deter her. She knows there are catastrophes in the life she’s chosen, but she doesn’t hesitate anyway.

I was eight years old when I realized that all I wanted to do was write. I haven’t found any other career that I’ve really liked. Or maybe it’s because I’m too interested in everything, and wanted to try a myriad of careers. Nothing stuck.

I wrote the story that eventually morphed into Crown of the Realm when I was eight. In its most basic form, it was the same story, although with a completely different cast of characters and obstacles. The sword has always remained the same though.

I grew up telling myself that I couldn’t make a living as an author. Few people can. Well, now, I’m tired of working at a job I loathe and I’m too exhausted to hate myself anymore. I’m riding my bicycle to work, going to the gym over lunch and eating grapes instead of cookies at home.

I actually have my dog, Saxon, to thank for that. He ate all my cookies. He shouldn’t have been able to get them. Reality rarely deters this animal. Somehow, he managed to sneak them out from behind the countertop appliances, unwrap them and then immediately dispose of the evidence to his crime.

Whenever I imagine this, Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King plays in my head.

That night, he showed me that I could make it through one full day without any sugary trash. So, the next day, I told myself one day. Today, I’m telling myself one day. It gets easier every day, so maybe downhill isn’t always bad after all.

I can learn from the dog too. Not in the binge eating way, of course, but in the fact that he knows what he is. He’s a dog and he loves to run. To him, it’s not a chore. Running is an expression of freedom; or maybe he thinks he really can knock that bird down from the sky. Running didn’t used to be a chore for me either. I can rediscover that. Sometimes, I think that writing is a chore too, when really, it’s my expression of freedom.

These days, I want to be me. That means being a writer and using my real name.

Please note that there will be a long transition between switching names because I can’t afford to print new editions of the novels with my real name at the moment. I’d also like to correct any grammatical errors, accidental misspellings, etc that myself and Mr. Szott have missed. Feel free to point these out to me. I can’t afford line editors, so I need all the help available. I really have to thank you – for reading this post, and just reading my works in general. That means the world to me.

Honestly,
Deborah Dalton