So who is Nancy Lynn Jarvis, really?
I always thought of her as me when I write. Seems my credit union had a different idea. They decided I was a scary person who was trying to deposit checks in the real me's account to be used for some unnamed nefarious business to be done in the future.
I had been happily depositing the occasion check made out to Nancy Lynn Jarvis for the last two-and-a-half years, which coincides with how long it's been since my first book was published, but all that changed two weeks ago, and it wasn't even Friday the 13th. The manager caught me openly committing a serial crime far worse than murder as far as he was concerned and flagged my account. "You'll never, never be able to do that again," he announced triumphantly.
"But what do I do with the six or so checks I get every year?" I stammered.
"Go to the county, file 'doing business as' documents, run an ad in the local paper to that affect, and come back in about six weeks when that process is complete, and we'll open a separate checking account for Nancy Lynn Jarvis. You will, of course, need to keep at least two-hundred dollars in the account at all times."
With fallen crests, I retreated to Wells Fargo Bank, a scary big bank located nearby. I showed them Buying Murder, my latest book, and pointed out my pseudonym on the cover. Then I opened the book to my photo on the about the "about the author" page and directed them to the copyright information at the beginning of the book. They called for the branch manager.
She laughed, shook my hand, and congratulated me on producing such a clever way of producing proof of identity. So now I have and official A.K.A. attached to my real name. I love it. I feel very mysterious, like I could even become a spy.
I had been happily depositing the occasion check made out to Nancy Lynn Jarvis for the last two-and-a-half years, which coincides with how long it's been since my first book was published, but all that changed two weeks ago, and it wasn't even Friday the 13th. The manager caught me openly committing a serial crime far worse than murder as far as he was concerned and flagged my account. "You'll never, never be able to do that again," he announced triumphantly.
"But what do I do with the six or so checks I get every year?" I stammered.
"Go to the county, file 'doing business as' documents, run an ad in the local paper to that affect, and come back in about six weeks when that process is complete, and we'll open a separate checking account for Nancy Lynn Jarvis. You will, of course, need to keep at least two-hundred dollars in the account at all times."
With fallen crests, I retreated to Wells Fargo Bank, a scary big bank located nearby. I showed them Buying Murder, my latest book, and pointed out my pseudonym on the cover. Then I opened the book to my photo on the about the "about the author" page and directed them to the copyright information at the beginning of the book. They called for the branch manager.
She laughed, shook my hand, and congratulated me on producing such a clever way of producing proof of identity. So now I have and official A.K.A. attached to my real name. I love it. I feel very mysterious, like I could even become a spy.
No comments have been added yet.
