We all have names, the ones we are given at birth, the ones our parents actually call us, which may not be the same, and then some of us collect nicknames along the way. Sometimes the reasons for a nickname are obvious, and sometime not so much. I’ve been blessed with a couple along the way.
The first nickname I had was Janwee. If you met me you would know why. My name is Janet and I’m vertically challenged, diminutive, short, stumpy. A work colleague crafted the name for me after he met my very tall Scottish husband.
After emigrating to Australia from the UK I was rebirthed as Lofty. The girls in the payroll office amused themselves no end when they came up with that name. They would send staff members around to see me to get their final pay cheques telling them they should ask for Lofty. The staff would stare in bewilderment when I told them that was me.
My husband was serving in the British army when I met him. Everyone in the army seems to have a nickname. Scotsmen were Jock. Welshmen Taff. Irishmen Paddy. People with the surname Clark were Nobby. People with the surname Bell Dinger. And if there was no obvious choice the surname would be changed to add an O. My husband became Simmo.
He served with someone called Cliff Richards because he looked like the singer. Another called Dill because he was a bit slow. And on it went. Years later my husband joined a website designed to help old army buddies reconnect. Great, except he never knew anybody’s real name. To date he has found one person he actually knew.
In my new book, Lost Cause, my hero was in the military with my heroines’ husband. Do they have nicknames? Of course they do. Daisy’s husband, Paul Dunlop, is called Doughnut. Why? Because Dunlop make tires and they have holes in the middle like doughnuts. What about my hero, Solomon? Well I could tell you but that might just give away too much of the plot.
Have you ever had a nickname? Loved it or hated it?
Diminutive English rose, JL Simpson, was stolen away by a giant nomad and replanted in a southern land filled with gum trees and kangaroos. She quickly grasped the meaning of G’day and mate whilst steadfastly refusing all attempts to convert her to Vegemite.
She loves sharing tales about unexpected twists of fate. Holding on to a steadfast belief every obstacle can be overcome, she spends her moments of solitude creating adventures where mystery and mayhem collide.