Please don’t share the following information with my mother….
There’s a Martin Boyd book sitting on my bookshelf. It’s been sitting there for well over a decade now. Mum gave it to me for a birthday sometime during high school and told me I’m named after the protagonist – Lucinda Brayford.
The thing is, I judge books by their covers and Lucinda? She looks like the kind of book that inspires naps.
So I’ve never actually read it…. sorry mum.
I shared this story with friends last weekend as they were browsing through the bookshelves in my room. It got us talking about the name question. The question that everyone has an answer for – if not a hilarious story.
Take Oprah as an example. If someone asked her why her name is what it is, she’d have to tell them the story of the birth certificate which was made in 26 BSC (Before Spell Check). You see, she was intended to be named Orpah until there was a little error in the paperwork. And the error stuck.
Then there’s my friend Sophia (I’m trying to say this as if it naturally flows on from my other buddy Oprah). Named as such because her parents saw a Sophia Loren film in the early days of their relationship.