A whole heck of a lot, that’s what.
So a couple days ago I sent out an email to three of my closest friends, and it went something like this:
“I need help naming my main character for my new book. He’s a guy—wealthy, good-looking, built…need something masculine but kinda unique. Go.”
That was my exact email. And this is what I got back:
Starlin, Stolmy, Astrid, Del Marr, Sterling, Hayward, Eamon.
And it was while reading these responses that I discovered some things about my super-close friends that I never knew before. And here is what I learned.
1. My friends hate me.
2. My friends secretly hope I remain an unpublished author for the rest of my life, and they have joined together in an exclusive society to sabotage my efforts.
3. My friend’s ideas of masculine vs. my ideas of masculine don’t even exist in the same universe.
4. My friends apparently grew up in big-city mansions and hung out with servants named Hobson, and NOT in a small towns like I thought, because where I come from the coolest guy names are Bo, Brad, and Rex (exactly why I needed help in the first place).
5. My friends like to read smut. (hey—no judgment here)
6. My friends mistakenly thought my plot involved high-fashion, leather and chains, daring makeup, and starred Adam Lambert.
7. OR my friends thought my plot involved star-gazing, palm reading, or fortune telling (am I the only one who thinks Starlin an Astrid sound a little outer-spacey?).
And then here’s one thing I didn’t discover, but am relieved by:
8. My friends are through having kids, which is good because I would hate to see a little Del Marr or Stolmy male-child running around my neighborhood.
And yet one thing I won’t hesitate to lie about:
9. If any of these friends wind up having another male-child, I just LOVE the name Del Marr! (which I will try hard to say with a straight face, should the need arise)
So here is what I’ve concluded: When in need, ask your friends. Because that’s what friends are for, and I’m grateful to have them. But when they give answers like these, just ask them again.
Because there’s almost always a good answer in there somewhere.
Which is exactly what happened, because in the long list of their crazy names, I found some good ones. I even chose one. Though I won’t reveal it just yet.
Because I’m way too afraid they’ll try to talk me into Hayward, and I just can’t let that happen.
(P.S. Why do I have this nagging feeling that the next New York Times Bestseller will star a character named Eamon…and Robert Pattinson will play him in the movie? If this happens I’m gonna be sooo ticked off)