Naming Addison

I spend a lot of time naming and, often enough, renaming my characters. Why do I do this?

Because I'm delaying productive work? No! (At least, not entirely!)

In my first novel, Princess Izzy and the E Street Shuffle, every major character in the book changes their name at some point in their life. It illustrated their desperate efforts to control their public image. Their name was their first line of defense in that regard.

Addison McGhee, the name character in Cover Girl Confidential, also has a name change. She was born Ada Sinmac Ghee but a busy bureaucrat heard it wrong and made her Irish when she immigrated to the US as a child.

The fact that Addison is -- or at least was -- a boy's name only adds to her problems.

When I picked the name Addison, I had never heard it used for girl. My neighbor was a male Addison and I thought of it being one of those old-fashioned names that was bound to make a comeback. I figured it was a natural to be picked up by girls eventually because it is so similar to Madison. Still, I thought I was definitely ahead of the curve.

Not so much. There's a female Addison in my son's preschool class and when I met a young male Addison this week, his mother quietly confided that she was worried that she had accidentally given him a girl's name.

Well, I hope not.

I'm not being judgmental. As a former girl, I know the appeal of boyish names. If I were naming myself, I would surely give myself something feminine that lends itself to a boyish nickname. Amelia, nicknamed Mel, perhaps.

But as the mother of boys, it does bug me when every off-the-beaten track boys name gets snatched up from girls -- Ashley, Lesley, Kelly, Madison, Sydney. I've recently met female Finns and Aidens. The list seems endless! Come on, leave the boys something!

The importance of manicures to writing

The other day a reporter asked me how becoming published had changed my life.

I sort of drew a blank. I'm not JK Rowling, after all. My life hasn't changed all that much. The baby still wants a new diaper. The mortgage company still wants the next payment.

But today, as I was getting my nails done for the second time in four weeks, I realized that the biggest change may be this: I get manicures more often.

Spending money and time to have someone else groom your hands always seemed a bit luxurious to me. I ocassionally got a manicure. I liked getting manicures. But I saved them for special occasions -- like weddings and job interviews.

Now? Well, authors have to have good nails! Someone might ask me to sign a book! My hands have to look good! It's practically a business expense.

(Note to IRS: No, I do not mean this literally. I do not claim manicures on my taxes. I promise. Nothing to see here. Move along.)

If you want to see my nails in person, you can check them out at 4 p.m. on March 31st at Carmichael's Bookstore here in Louisville. (The Frankfort Avenue location.)

Richard Dawson's uncanny gift at Match Game

At one point in my second novel, Cover Girl Confidential, Addison McGhee is trying to salvage of stagnating career by appearing on Hollywood Squares.

Addison is nothing if not determined and upbeat. So even though this is a low point in her career, she gives herself a pep talk. She vows to be a favorite of the contestants. She is going to be like Richard Dawson, she says. "Only without the unfortunate smoking habit."

With this background, you can understand how delighted I was to recently find a documentary about Match Game, in which a large portion of the program was devoted to other celebrities venting their petty resentment of Dawson and his special connection with the contestants.

It's a sad glimpse into human nature, I guess. Because watching Match Game.... well, it's obvious to anyone that Richard Dawson had a gift. If you wanted to win money, you'd pick Dawson.

I suppose I can understand that this would get old to Brett Sommers. But the facts are the facts. He was better at this than she was. I don't know that it speaks badly of her, particularly. She was quite a bit better than most of the celebrities. And besides, I'm not sure this skill that he had would even count as a skill in any context other than the game.

After all, being a bold, creative and original thinker is actually a drawback on that show. You need to give the most obvious answer possible.

Which Dawson did at a remarkably high rate -- and managed to look smart doing it. Good for him!

Jericho is a guilty TV pleasure

I'm not a television snob. How could I be? I have watched entire seasons of Big Brother. That is not something that should be admitted in polite society.

But I wouldn't describe Big Brother as a guilty pleasure -- because it's missing a crucial ingredient. There is precious little "pleasure" in that series. My only explanation for watching it is that I was, for awhile, a reality TV addict.

For me, it was a backlash against overly drawn out dramatic television. I had begun to feel angry at the producers of shows like Alias and ER and Lost. I told myself that they were, perhaps, doing the best they could. But at some point, you just have to suspect that they never had any plan for, say, the bird that calls out "Hurley." They're just messing with your mind.

I began to wonder if Dr. Green was ever going to die. Did he? I finally gave up.

Reality TV, by contrast, gives you regular opportunities to leave. If Survivor jumps the shark, you can say: "Okay, I'll see if Twyla wins this year. And then I'm done." Every 13 weeks or so, you get to decide whether to re-up. And if you don't, you leave with no dangling story arcs.

But Jericho, despite being so cheesy you could grill it and call it a sandwich, is actually restoring my faith in dramatic television.

It's insultingly optimistic about what a post nuclear war scenario would be like. The dialogue is, frankly, laughable in places. Timeline issues? They've got them. (My husband started yelling at the TV when someone appeared to be watching football on a weekday.) But each week, so far, it's getting a little better.

And most importantly, it is laying out a story -- albeit a ridiculous one -- in a logical fashion. It's got a mysterious character who is, apparently, partly good and partly bad. He is complex and interesting. And -- here's looking at you Lost -- you know more about him now than you did when the season started. We are finding out things, which means the mysteries are more satisfying.

Plus, Skeet Ulrich?

Kind of fun to watch. (Blush.)