Spending decades writing stories and trying to get them published requires the conviction that you have something worthwhile to say, and the diamond-hard ego that goes with it. Never wanted to be anybody else. Never wanted to look like anybody else (unless you count my 30-something self as opposed to my 60-something self when I look in the mirror these days.) Always liked my name.
The one time I considered changing it was when I got married, and considered taking my husband’s last name. I decided against it becuase A) the paperwork was a pain and B) I would have had same name as a popular porn actress.
So I’m very resistant to changing my name, but if I had to, if dark forces were pursuing me and my life depended on living underground with an alias, I’d likely choose something completely innocuous and unmemorable, with a last name that didn’t fall too late in the alphabet.
And I certainly wouldn’t share it here.