I like my name. It has a certain rhythm to it (can anyone spell rhythm correctly the first time?) and I like the symmetry of the two K’s. I also like the fact that if you fake an Irish brogue, you can say my last name correctly on the first try. Go ahead, try it: Keeeer-nin. Just makes you ache for a black and tan doesn’t it?
But like most authors, I’ve given thought to the whole pseudonym issue. Using Jennifer’s porn star formula I would be Nikki Shaddalee, which I think is just brilliant. Using her romance writer formula it would be Kristine Jones, which is rather boring, no? So Nikki Shaddalee it is.
But I don’t really feel like I write what Nikki would. I mean, Nikki sounds pretty racy, doesn’t it? And Shaddalee sounds downright romantic. Which, while perfect for a porn star, doesn’t really fit my style. So, in my search for a new pseudonym I ran across a site with plenty of famous folks’ pseudonyms and have decided to give out the first annual Kristy’s.
I would like to award the first Well, Weren’t YOU Smart Kristy to Jane Seymour, of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman fame and more recently the bearer (and barer) of perfectly fine middle-aged breasts in Wedding Crashers, for dropping the astounding moniker of Joyce Penelope Wilhelmina Frankenberg.
The first annual Huh? Kristy goes to Willem Dafoe, who was christened William Dafoe. Does just changing vowels really count as a pseudonym? How did this come about? Did he want to be more…Celtic? Did his agent have some odd speech impediment that kept him from properly pronouncing that pesky “ia” sound?
The Seriously, How Cool Is That? Kristy goes to wa-wa trombonist Butter Jackson, who was already born with the ultra-cool name of Quentin Jackson, but once he played with the likes of Ellington, Basie, and Mingus had to up the cool factor, and really, do you get any cooler than Butter? I don’t think so.
The Rose By Any Other Name Kristy goes to Elle MacPherson who apparently became even more beautiful with the axing of Elanor Gow.
And our final award, the coveted Saints Can Do Whatever They Want Kristy goes to Mother Theresa, who was born, all shiny and beatific, Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu. No Agnes of God cracks, please, I’m trying to avoid lightning strikes.
Clearly I’ve put a lot of thought into this whole pseudonym thing. And I’ve finally settled on my own. If you ever see a book out there written by Butter Dafoe MacPherson, well, pick that baby up, I obviously need the sale.