September Shorts: Aceface and Kneebone

For reasons that aren't important, I was in an estate agents in Devon and I ended up talking to a very capable and impressive young professional who helped me out immensely.

It wasn't until afterwards that I noticed her name. She was called Paris Kneebone.

Now it turns out that Kneebone must be a surname typical of the region because a quick search afterwards revealed Kneebone Trees, Kneebone Farm, plus Facebook pages and funeral notices for various Kneebones, mostly in the Exeter region.

As a writer of fiction, it made me think again about character names. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction and Kneebone is not a name one could easily use in a novel. It's too heavy with potential significance; too suggestive of non-literal meanings that readers would be alive to, even if we didn't want them to be. It's just a name, you might end up arguing; it's not a metaphor. Don't think about taking a knee, or kneeling in submission. Don't think about legs or joints of any kind. Most of all, don't think about how I've paired it with Paris. Yeah, right. We know that names in fiction are chosen by the writer and therefore they are designed, subconsciously or not, to communicate something.

I save names up in my iphone notes in case I ever need them. I choose names that sound good, or seem suggestive of some characteristic or theme. There they are at the top of the post. I love Maddie Arrow - loaded with connotation, that one - and I've been waiting for years to use Killick and Doubtful. 

But Paris Kneebone? I suspect that'll be staying right where it is.