I haven’t changed my name for a long time. When I was nineteen, I married, and changing my name then seemed to signify so much. As a matter of fact, it changed very little and within two years I was back to my maiden name. Sharp. I never liked it much, it led to puerile puns that I had to pretend were original every time I heard it.
But at least the name was mine. I got my qualifications under that name, which was immensely satisfying, especially since I depended on no-one to get it. I loved my parents, and I thought they’d paid enough, so I managed on a grant and summer jobs.
The second time I changed my name was when I married the man I’m still married to. I’ve used the name for a very long time now, and I like it. Lynne Connolly seems a pleasing combination of letters to this writer. I didn’t mind changing it at all, this time, and I’ve used it happily ever since.
Now I’m changing my name again. According to my publisher, I need a way to differentiate between my paranormal novels and my historical novels. After an internet conference with several people, trying out variations on a number of names, I’ve appropriated my husband’s first name and for the historical romances, I’ll be Lynne Martin.
I’m quite pleased with it. My first book under that name is coming out next month. Still, the work has been more than I thought. I’ve redesigned my website, and actually bought my domain, at last
so if you have a spare few minutes, pop over there and see what you think!
Still, there was a brief moment of sadness when I got the artwork for the cover and found my new name adorning it. No matter. Pretty soon I’m sure it will be like my own name. And I hope it shows how much I owe my husband in my writing career. The man who rarely reads my work, but who is always there, has supported me while I fulfil a life’s dreaming and turn my stories into printed books.