This week completes a personal milestone of sorts. It brings into full circle a process of page flipping, pencil scribbling, head scratching, google searching, late night sitting, deep thinking, brain storming, weekly sessions that was set in motion roughly around this time last year, and which has continued thereafter as a mildly gratifying exercise in literary vanity.

And in the complete absence of either cheers or jeers in response to my continued occupation of 1/4th of the Sunday paper, I can only reasonably conclude that this is indeed my personal space: a fief in which I am at liberty to indulge myself with an uninhibited range of vocal barrages, as long as the sentiments of the editor and the publisher are not offended. And as long as the myth of a silently appreciative reading class appeals to some warbled aspect of my personal mindscape.

I write therefore I am.

That has been the general philosophy, which has compelled me, week after week, to put pen to paper and expand the limits of my vocabulary towards a description of life in the immediate environment.

An environment, which has steadily gone from bad to worse to exacerbated to near unredeemable levels. The outrage had to find an outlet. And so I got up one night in July, went outside, looked up at the night sky for some hint of light, found none, came back inside, lit a candle, and a year and 34 essays later, here I am. I write by night therefore I need light.

One of the advantages of writing under a pseudonym is that you are under no pressure at all to explain or justify your point of view. It lends a certain incredulity to personal credentials, but still manages to get away with a minimum of fuss.

The only disadvantage with this particular pseudonym is that it was chosen in a spur-of-the-moment blur which happened to be the first thing on my mind as a blank column needed to be filled up.

It might just as easily have been Donald duck, Charlie brown, or more frighteningly, John Doe. But it is an identity marker which has stuck, and although I detest its juvenile and naïve lineaments, I am compelled to begin my writings under its shadow.

Sadly, some careers don't mix well with the writing life. So has mine. In my line of work, a pen name is an excellent and necessary way to separate my writing career from my day job. Under some circumstances, having a rotten name can be reason enough to use a pseudonym.

For example, if your name is Lila Latrine or Baba Blackhouse, you might want a more literary nom de plume. The same might apply if your name is difficult to pronounce or to spell, and therefore difficult for readers to remember.

But I have a perfectly normal name. And the present neo-comic strip name has been chosen purely by accident. I hope it has served its intended purpose.

If you're a not-yet-recognized writer, the thought of using a pen name may seem inconceivable. After working so diligently for a byline, you can't imagine not wanting to take credit for your work and seeing your name in print. Indeed, a person's name is considered to be a mark of integrity.

If you're willing to "put your name" on something, you're willing to take responsibility for it and be accountable. Conversely, the use of a fictitious name brings to mind a sneaky or shadowy attempt to do business. Spies use an alias to evade capture; Most Wanted posters include an a.k.a. list of a criminal's phony titles.

Rest assured, I am neither a spy nor a wanted criminal. Although a bit of a self-styled snob, if I may freely admit.

A name is something profoundly personal and private, and I believe that any undue mention of it brings about a vague sense of discomfort, as if a liberty were threatened. Today, a lot of people talk a lot about wanting to protect their freedom to remain relatively unknown, and they talk a lot about keeping various Big Brothers at bay.

At a time when we feel more and more discomfort over the amount of information others can know about us, I hope I have not caused any undue skepticism by choosing to keep a name private as a matter of personal choice.

Common sense dictates that creative writing in Sunday papers will almost always have to write from a leisurely perspective. Then again, common sense is not always so common, least of all among write-by-candle-light-at-night types.

Traditional wisdom maintains the best approach to writing is to focus on producing quality work and to let the writing speak for itself. I hope it has. And if it hasn't, I shall light another candle. And try again.