Writing popular fiction

story into a boring pastiche of styles, moods, and plot concepts.
    22.
Should I use a pen name
? If your real name is completely without intrigue or musicality, you might want to employ a pen name from the start. No one can say, for certain, whether a phonetically pleasing by-line sells more books than an irritating by-line, but most writers tend to
feel
that it does. We can more easily visualize a reader going to a bookstore to pick up the latest Ross MacDonald mystery than to purchase Kenneth Millar's new thriller. (Mr. Millar has had great success with his pen name.) Some authors are born with names that cry to be splashed on book covers: Isaac Asimov, John D. MacDonald, James Gunn, Brian Garfield. Others are not so lucky. Dean R. Koontz is basically an unpleasant, guttural name, but I have stuck with it, for the most part. And after twenty books under that name, I find that editors prefer to use it than some melodic pseudonym. In short, the work between the covers is more important than the name on the outside.
    Once you are established, use your own name for your most serious books whether they are inside or outside the category you're most known for, and keep your pen names for your lighter things. I learned this lesson a bit late, after publishing a serious novel,
Chase
, under a pen name and then wishing my own by-line were on it.
    If you are publishing six or seven original paperbacks a year, you are not taxing the market for work under your own name. If you're publishing that many hardcover titles a year, you should use a pen name for some of them. Remember that hardbacks are often reprinted in paper, with the result that six hardcover books a year eventually means twelve separate editions a year. There is no sense competing with yourself once you've established the value of your name.
    Many prolific writers, especially in the suspense and mystery fields, employ at least one pseudonym in addition to their real names, and they often make no particular secret of their many publishing identities. Donald E. Westlake is also Richard Stark and Tucker Coe. John Dickson Carr is also Carter Dickson, and Robert L. Fish is also Robert L. Pike.
    23.
Should I employ a typing service for preparation of my final manuscript
? A manuscript should be as clean and flawless as you can make it, but it should not necessarily be prepared by a professional typist just because your own keyboard expertise is slight or even laughable. If you do several drafts and heavy blue penciling (which I have expressly advised against), a typist may be of value to you. However, most professional writers find that they make last minute changes in phrasing even as they prepare the submission script. You forfeit this last polish if you use a manuscript typist. (See Chapter Nine for a discussion of manuscript revision.)
    24. If I
type the script myself, should I keep carbons
? Some publishers now require two copies of an author's manuscript when they purchase it. Occasionally, the original copy will be lost or destroyed, and the writer must supply his publisher or his agent with a good carbon to take its place. You should, therefore, keep two carbon copies, one of them as readable and unmarked as the original bond paper script. Personally, I dislike wasting the time it takes to correct typos on a carbon copy. Therefore, I make only one, which is smeared and good only for my own files—and I have the original script photocopied. Though the cost for this service averages $25.00 a novel, I feel the time saved is more than equal to the cost.
    25.
Should I subscribe to a clipping service to receive reviews of my novels
? Most clipping services charge a minimal subscription fee and then bill you by the item—usually $.50 or $1.00 for each clipping they find—until you tell them to stop. Since original paperback novels are rarely reviewed in the major newspapers and magazines, the service is more valuable to the regular hardcover novelist. You can benefit by the feedback a clipping service can supply, if you understand beforehand that the bad as well as the favorable reviews will be sent you. The greatest danger is that one of your books will suddenly catch on, and the avalanche of clippings will threaten to wipe out your life's savings. I know of one writer who published a dozen novels with only moderate success, but unexpectedly hit the best-seller lists with his thirteenth. In all the excitement, he forgot about his clipping service. Two months