Since 2021, when I became more serious about someday releasing creative work, I began to consider using an alias. It felt like a strange notion to me in some ways, especially given how prevalent nonfiction works would be in the mix. I wondered if there was still authenticity in opening myself up to share true stories if I was only comfortable doing so with a fake name? On the other hand, many creatives go this route for plenty of reasons besides being secretive.
Some are motivated by marketability and think a moniker will be catchier or more memorable than their birth name. I don’t think I’d decide based on that criterion; however, it also isn’t a concern for me since my birth name has alliteration and a ring to it. Someone actually hit the big time with my last name, so there’s already precedent for us Hacketts to have success branding ourselves.
Others are inspired by a desire for anonymity, which I can respect and identify with. One of my idols, Maynard James Keenan, spoke in his biography about tactics like wearing different hairstyles while touring or doing publicity, which, along with his pseudonym, helps him often go under the radar in daily life. He especially appreciated this when out publicly with his kids, whom he did not want to be subjected to every outing turning into a celebrity sighting photo op or being diverted by fans requesting autographs.
While I’m hardly positioned for the paparazzi being a concern, I dread being perceived by the general public in any fashion. Many professional situations have required me to do public speaking and television appearances, but it’s never felt comfortable. I imagine my uneasiness may increase when sharing creative projects.
Beyond the general discomfort I anticipate experiencing if I ever become anything resembling a public figure, along with recognition comes the inevitability of outspoken critics. There’s also the difficulty of maintaining tact, patience, and kindness when dealing with pushy or insistent people who feel entitled to your time and energy at any given moment.
Like Maynard, the idea of folks approaching while I’m out getting groceries or tracking me down at home as I attempt to unwind is a big no, thank you! I saw a picture some years ago of Beyonce on a bike; the caption said that she enjoys riding because people often can’t figure out that it’s her, affording her rare unidentified moments in public. To me, that lifestyle sounds like a nightmare!
“It’s amazing how I’m able to ride around on a bike. People kind of see it’s me but since I’m on a bike, they think, “No, it’s not her.” And by the time they realize it’s me, I’m already gone. It’s great to do something normal every day. It keeps me grounded.”
Beyonce
While the chances of rising to such prominence that I encounter the challenges of recognition are slim, I continued leaning toward adopting an alias and figured it was worth considering what I would use. At first, brainstorming reinforced my reservations because every idea felt utterly baseless and contrived. I even shied away from names with which I had meaningful personal connections, like incorporating beloved deceased relatives’ names or harkening back to long-dead ancestors. It still felt too odd and not at all ME.
Then, one day, it struck me: why not use my childhood nickname? This bubbled up many mental arguments for and against. From age five through early double-digits, Hez was the primary name my family used to address me. It originated with my younger cousin, who could not quite grasp how to pronounce my name and kept addressing me as “Hez” and “Hezzer.” Everyone found it so cute that it quickly stuck and even resulted in spinoffs, such as “Hezzy” and “Hezzy Bear.”
While Hez feels more authentically like ME than anything else I came up with, I worried it was infantilizing. This concern dissipated when I thought through the fact that strangers reading it on a byline or album cover would not be conjuring up the memories I possess of trying to shake off the nickname throughout my tweens to assert my adulthood. As I bounced it off of friends and acquaintances, the consensus was mainly that no one had any association with the word, neither good, bad, young, old, hip, lame, or otherwise.
It seemed neutral enough to work with, so the next decision was whether to use a real or fake last name, or nothing at all. The latter appealed to me the most, yet it also evoked a strong sense of imposter syndrome. Pop stars and divas like Beyonce, Tiffany, Madonna, Adele, and Cher most readily came to mind as folks rocking single-word monikers. Who did I think I was trying to pull that off?
I was stuck on this line of thought for months and began making myself crazy with indecision. My therapist eventually talked me out of letting it thwart me. She observed that many creatives change their monikers multiple times as they develop their crafts, so there was no reason to feel like I had to stick with Hez forever if it felt wrong in a few weeks, months, or even years. With that reassurance in mind, I allowed myself to move forward and play it by ear.
I’ve become more comfortable operating with this alias in the year since, and I’m now doubling down on Hez: it is with great pleasure that I am unveiling my brand new logo!
Damn, look at how official and fancy I am!
My appreciation goes to the designer, Traci Hafner, who was so fabulous to work with. She doesn’t have a website promoting her work, but I will gladly make referrals to anyone looking for a fantastic graphic designer.
I’ll also close out with gratitude for the many friends and family members who graciously tolerated their recruitment over the past two years into workshopping my use of the name and offered feedback on preliminary drafted logo concepts. Although I’m trying to develop my intuition, discernment, and confidence when it comes to cultivating my talents and presenting my creative work, all creators can benefit from having thoughtful and honest folks to bounce things off of. I’m fortunate and appreciate all of yinz!
hezhub.com 