Would a nose by any other name smell as good?

[Geoff McGeachin]

The name on the cover of my first book was Geoffrey McGeachin, as it was on the second. On the third book I was Geoff McGeachin and the same on the B format re-release of the second. I’ve had a long held belief that names are destiny. Vivian Westwood – fashion designer or dental hygienist? I’d buy any album put out by a guy named Ry Cooder but would I hire someone named Ry Cooder as my accountant? Geoff or Geoffrey? I knew an actor named something like Barry AwkwardtopronouceCzechname (not his real name). He discussed changing his moniker to improve career prospects and his friends, choosing their words carefully, agreed that perhaps it might be a good idea. So he came up with Edward AwkwardtopronouceCzechname. He is now a successful landscape gardener. My publisher didn’t seem to have any trouble with either Geoffrey or McGeachin on that first book, it was the title that was a bit tricky. FAT, FIFTY & F***ED! was how my main character described himself in the opening chapter and since I was going in a writing contest hoping to score an agent and a publishing deal it seemed like an attention getter. Must have worked since I got the agent and the publishing deal. My introduction to the book world was a surreal afternoon sipping Earl Grey tea out of fine bone china in the Sydney boardroom of Penguin while my agent and publisher, mature, elegant and sophisticated women both, discussed the use of the word F**K on a book cover at some length. And they didn’t use the asterisks. After considering the 27,000 alternatives I was forced to come up with they bit the bullet and went with it and Western Civilisation failed to collapse (watch for updates – may happen soon). The cover was mostly blue which may have been a wry commentary by the graphic designer. So the only possible marketing campaign was ‘From an author you’ve never heard of, with a name you’re not sure how to pronounce comes the book you’re too embarrassed to ask for!’ But it sold and still sells, possibly because men are turning 50 every day and people can be so cruel when it comes to birthday gifts. But for cruelty look no further than booksellers, especially the women. After publication I spoke to a number on how customers went about asking for the title and several gleefully told me they deliberately forced them to say F***ED! out loud. And without the asterisks.