A couple weeks ago, I was lightly accosted by Intiman's artistic director, Bartlett Sher, who said he had "a bone to pick" with me. The subject of Sher's picky bone: Addison DeWitt, the pseudonymous curmudgeon whose snippy ramblings have appeared in this column a handful of times over the past year. Specifically, Sher resented Addison's "What have we learned?" overview of Brendan Kiley's series of interviews with local artistic directors, one of whom was Sher. After opening himself up on the record with an identifiable writer, Sher felt sucker-punched by the brazen follow-up piece written under an accountability-free nom de plume.

Having written all but one of the Addison DeWitt columns myself (the most recent DeWitt column, covering On the Boards' 25th anniversary bash, was penned by Christopher Frizzelle), I outed myself to Sher and took his complaint with me. As a theater-maker writing about theater, I felt far more comfortable (and had way more fun) writing through the persona of what All About Eve fans know to be the bitchiest theater critic in history. Still, comforting rationalizations only go so far, and after thinking it through, I've realized that it's time to off Addison.

Allow me to announce the perfectly timely demise of Addison DeWitt, and to introduce his permanent, flesh-and-blood replacement: Brendan Kiley, who will be filling this column with theater news, gossip, and opinion on a weekly basis. Send tips, complaints, and threats to brendan@thestranger.com.

Speaking of pseudonyms: Readers may remember that anonymous letter ripping Sharon Ott several new buttholes over her shortcomings as artistic director of the Seattle Rep. A number of people wrote to accuse The Stranger of harboring the anonymous writer's identity, believing him or her to be on staff; others accredited the letter to my boyfriend, a former Rep employee who left two years ago under infelicitous circumstances. ("I'll always cherish being introduced to Sharon for the 17th time," he says.) Unfortunately, both of these theories are false. The anonymous letter came from neither a Stranger staffer (where would we get the firsthand insight?) or from my fella (who has plenty of two-year-old insight, but if he felt the need to vent he would have done it long before now).

Which leaves us only with supposition, with the most entrancing theories pinning the anonymous rant on a disgruntled former Ott protégé or a recently departed Rep office worker. If you have stories to share, send 'em to brendan@thestranger.com. I'll start: For two years, the fella and I lived three doors down from Sharon Ott. The day after The Letter hit the streets, our living-room window was egged. Coincidence?

In closing, it's my great pleasure to introduce someone The Stranger has dreamed of since the departure of N. W. Barcus 7,000 years ago: a primary theater critic armed with plenty of theater-watching experience and zero behind-the-scenes conflicts of interest. (Nothing against Bret Fetzer, whose high-quality scribing will continue to grace these pages.) Look for Annie Wagner's smart scribblings in the theater section next week.

schmader@thestranger.com