Didn't you ever want to be someone else?
Actually, there are several reasons. Some simply want to protect their privacy, although J. D. Salinger and Thomas Pynchon manage to have all the privacy anyone would want while writing under their real and rather uncommon names. Others, I think, would be embarrassed or downright ashamed for it to be known that they write the kinds of things they do.
Some are well known in other fields and want to save their real names for their scholarly or professional writings. (Isaac Asimov was a real, serious scientist, but because he published sci-fi under his real name, most people who know of him know him only as a sci-fi writer, and his name wouldn't carry much weight as a scientific authority with them!)
Some think that their books would sell better if their names reflected the opposite sex or a different ethnicity. Back in the 1960s, when gothic romances were very popular, many of them were written by men using women's names. The sci-fi writer Andre Norton, on the other hand, is really named Alice. In the 19th century, George Eliot, George Sand, and Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell were all women. And some years ago a writer whose last name was James hispanicized it to Diaz because he considered the market for ethnic writers more open.
Some writers publish under their own names AND pen names, because they write more than one type of book. The archaeologist Barbara Mertz writes romantic, slightly supernatural thrillers as Barbara Michaels and mysteries with archaeological settings as Elizabeth Peters. The historical novelist Edith Pargeter wrote the Brother Caedfael series and a series of contemporary mysteries as Ellis Peters. Erle Stanley Gardner wrote his non-Perry Mason novels as A. A. Fair. (I could go on here!) In most cases the second (and third) identities were open secrets, but many readers had definite preferences as to which of an author's personae they preferred.
Incidentally an author who really wants to keep his or her pen name a secret evidently can. No one yet knows definitely who "B. Traven," who published The Treasure of the Sierra Madre in 1927, was. More recently, a former colleague of mine was known to have published several pseudonymous novels, but she would never tell anyone the titles or her pen name, because, she said, "I can't write anything but trash"
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