So why am I blogging under a pseudonym?

1. It’s fun to have a secret identity.
2. It’s fun to see if my secret identity will come to the attention of my friends before they know it’s me. I can’t wait until one of them asks me, “Have you read this article by Robin Raven Cow?” If anyone can disguise their identity and still be narcissistic, it’s me.
3. I’m a freelance and contract writer. I have current and prospective clients who routinely Google me. (Not that I’m famous–they just want to check me out before they hire me.) I want a forum in which I don’t have to consider my professional online reputation every time I write “screw it.”
4. I have Facebook Friends of various political and religious persuasions, some of whom are business contacts. When I post fun articles on Facebook I inadvertently piss somebody off. I’d rather piss people off here.

So do I lack integrity for not standing up for my beliefs publicly, with my name on them? Am I a wimp and a hypocrite for hiding behind an pseudonymous blog while appearing to be neutral in my real life? I do wonder.

The internet makes the alternate-identity business so easy, though. I can do a lot of cool stuff here: emailing, blogging, tweeting, commenting, bookmarking, digging, stumbling-upon, tumblng, and what-all. Woo hoo, it’s a brand new me!

Comment if you think I’m full of shit, or if you don’t–but this is damn fun.

This blog needs a reason to be.

I already blogged about blogging, as opposed to journaling. I don’t want to turn this blog into a personal journal, because my journals are awful, just awful. I don’t even want to read them–and they’re all about my favorite subject: me.

Some of the action is interesting but the plot is aimless. I don’t think the author knows how this story is going to end.

My journals suck because I keep asking “Why?” But it’s a “Why Me?” kind of why. Yyeachk. It’s getting me nowhere and time is getting short.

For a sec I thought that sounded too pathetic, but no, I’m leaving it in. Geez, how often do I get stuck in a conversation with another victim? I’m not going to get depressed about this. Taking life’s little shit too personally is epidemic.

I want a “Purpose” kind of why. Not just to make this blog interesting–to make me interesting. And not just to be interesting to you, but to be interesting to me.

I love this TED video of Simon Sinek, which explains (um) why we need a why. Executive Summary: A why enables us to get out of bed in the morning, and get other people to care.

People who have a business degree or a Certified Coach will call their inspiration a Mission Statement. Not all Mission Statements are created equal. Read between the lines of most business’ Mission Statements and the higher purpose is:

To raise market cap, sell this thing, and walk away with a lot of money, so we can buy Jaguars and vacation homes in France.

Read between the lines of many personal Mission Statements and the higher purpose is:

To be loved.
–or–
To have a lot of money [see above].

These don’t get me out of bed in the morning.

Problem: I haven’t got any better whys than these. And believe me, I’ve been journaling for most of my long life, and it isn’t for lack of asking “Why?”.

I really really want one. That’s why I’m blogging.

I’m a journaler from way back, since I was an English major in college. The chronicles of my 30-year inner journey are stored in a cardboard office file box that says on the outside,

If I am dead, throw this box, unopened, into the fire.

Since I’m not dead, I occasionally try to reread my journals, and it’s painful.

Why? Because I always journal the eternal question: “Why?”

Why did Poindexter stop calling me? Why am I so busy and tired all the time? Why won’t Betty Lou listen to my sage advice?

I can see, from 30 years’ worth of material, that there hasn’t much progress on the big issues. Men still don’t call. I’m still too busy. I still have self-doubt.

So I’m going to stop the madness and blog instead. What’s the difference?

• The openness of a blog holds me to a higher standard. Even if people don’t read it, they could. So blogging induces me to write pretty.
• Blogging develops my writer’s voice. Journaling doesn’t, because I’m the only reader. Blogging forces me to think about my audience, and the voice I want them to hear.
• I’d rather look online for validation of thoughts I want to share, than look inward for understanding of conundrums I can barely fathom.

“So why the anonymity, RRC?” you ask. “If these thoughts are worth sharing, why not put your name on them?” I refer you to my Who page.

This blog might still be painful for me to read, but I’ll keep working at it until it isn’t painful for you to read.

Possible future posts: The difference between my journals and ”Morning  Pages” à la The Artist’s Way; More about anonymity; Me and You in Writing; A different kind of “Why?”; Me me me