Dear 100 Hour Board,
How many people are able to get past the pseudonyms? I definitely know (confirmed) who one of you are, which has led me to discover the identities of two more (suspected). Unfortunately, I am no longer on campus and can't confirm my suspicions.
-Your Facebook Friend
Everyone who finds out is killed by tunnel worms. Guess who's next, pal?
If you know two writers who wrote at the same time, you can probably triangulate (except with only two data points it's not a triangle, I guess) a decent percentage of the other writers from that time period. I know I figured out some writers before I joined the Board.
Have you ever considered that we probably know who you are as well? Dun dun dun! Actually, I probably don't know you, unless you happen to be like one of 6 readers I'm aware of that know my nym. Cause I'm sneaky like that. Anyways, if you think you know who I am then you should shoot me an email at email@example.com and then we can be friends. I might even bake you some brownies. Go ahead. Try me.
For the purposes of self-promotion, I've linked to things that revealed my identity right here on the Board (after retirement, for these Alumni Week adventures).
On a related note, feel free to listen to a podcast I co-host called The Protagonist Podcast, where each week we discuss a great character in a great story. AND, it's possible we may have had some Board writers as guests during our almost 200 episodes.
Or, if you're interested in the classic sitcom Frasier, why not check out this book, Frasier: A Cultural History, that I co-authored with Humble Sister.
Or, if you're a fan of superheroes, you may be interested in some essay collections I've edited, including volumes on Superman, Wonder Woman, the X-Men, the Avengers, Iron Man, the Hulk, and the Justice League. And keep your eyes peeled for a volume on the Flash soon.
Once yayfulness and I became friends, it was all over. He was like a direct gateway to figuring out who everyone was.
Once upon a time, for my last year at BYU, I moved into a new ward. When I suddenly realized that a huge percentage of my new friend group were Board writers, everybody made me guess who they wrote. The best moment, though, was when another non-writer in our group tried to guess which writer I was, before I was a writer. I made her guess anyway before revealing that I was not actually a writer. Then, eventually, I became actually a writer, and it was great.
My favorite title bar is from Yellow. "I don't mind stalkers. As long as they're socially-responsible stalkers." - Yellow
Let's be honest. I'm an open book. If you're determined, it's not hard to figure out who I am. And if you figure out who I am, you can probably figure out a lot from my Facebook friends.
At one point, a dedicated writer drew a giant chart on my white board at work, routinely updating it, filled with nyms and real names as she figured them out. I never confirmed nor denied, but I was genuinely amused at the work that went into it. It freaked out some writers, but I'm with Yellow. Yes, she stalked and figured out writer identities, but she never did anything creepy with it. Heck, she knew many of the people in real life, because I was an active writer, many of the other writers were my real life friends, and she was my real life friend. It was a fun puzzle for her. That was all. (It's also where that title board quote was born from.)
~ Dragon Lady
During my last year at BYU, my electrical engineering TA connected something I told him with something I wrote and figured out who I was. I even gave him a candy bar as a reward. Plus I was kind of obsessed with Owlet (in real life) before I became a writer and realized she was Owlet from her answers. Which led me to figure out a couple others.
I could have sworn I told this story before, and I can even find an email from 2013 that talks about how I was going to tell it, but apparently I never did.
nce upon a time there was a Sump who liked to read the 100 Hour Board. There was also a Yay who liked to write for the 100 Hour Board.
The Sump asked a question. The Yay answered the question. The Sump asked another question. The Yay answered that one, too. The Sump asked a third question, and sure enough, there came the Yay with the answer.
The Sump liked these answers, so he decided to send the Yay an email. The Yay emailed him back, and soon enough they had struck up a correspondence.
One day, the Yay mentioned to the Sump that he worked at the MTC Cafeteria. This made the Sump feel excited! He had three friends who worked at the MTC Cafeteria. They were all girls and the Yay was a boy, so he knew none of them was the Yay, but maybe the Yay knew who they were. So he sent the Yay an email telling him their names.
This was a mistake.
As it turns out, one of those friends was also friends with the Yay. So, one day, the Yay talked to her after work and asked her if she knew a Sump.
She laughed. "Oh, you mean [the Sump's real name]? He's told us all about the Board!"
This made the Yay very happy, because now he knew the Sump's secret, and he loved knowing secrets.
The Sump's friend thought that all of this was very funny, and then she realized: she knew how to make it even more funny.
"Listen," she said to the Yay, "tell [the Sump's real name] that his flash drive is under the cushion in his friend's apartment. His face will look so surprised when he finds out!"
So that is exactly what the Yay did. And he did not see the Sump's face, but the email that he got back told him that it probably was very surprised indeed.
But now the Sump had a problem: the Yay knew the Sump's secret, but the Sump did not know the Yay's secret.
And so the Sump went to work.
The Sump figured out which one of his friends had told his secret to the Yay.
The Sump figured out which state the Yay was from.
The Sump figured out which clubs the Yay was a part of.
The Sump figured out the Yay's name.
And then the Sump figured out the Yay's address.
The Yay wasn't there when the Sump showed up the next day, so he left a creepy note for him instead.
"Now I know TWO of your secrets, and you only know one of mine," the Sump said. "That means I win!"
And after the Sump got back from his mission, he married the girl who told his secret to the Yay, so he did win indeed.
I honestly couldn't tell you how many readers figured out who I am. My wife is one of them. As far as I recall, though, everyone who found me got a little help from me or from someone else.