Oh, come on. Didn’t you take high school biology? DNA. Deoxyribonucleic Acid. Life’s earliest code. So many possibilities, you only get just one, even with identical twins. That’s what makes me different. And it’s what makes you different. And you. And you. Well, you get the idea. If not? Go back to high school. That will help you remember what it’s like to be different, because unlike then when you just thought you were different, you’ll really be different now.

The prompt was going for something more colloquial, you say? Fine. My name makes me different. I am the only Jean Schara in the United States (and, quite possibly, the world). I became much more common when I took my ex-husband’s name when we first married. I guess that’s why I took my name back when we divorced. I’ve never cottoned to being common (and my mother didn’t think I was ordinary either). On the other hand, several years ago when remarking to an author friend about another author’s work I was reading, she commented, that has to be a pseudonym. Nobody would have that name for real. I paused (not an obvious pause, because we were communicating via a chat program, but if she tracked time like I do on my displays, I’m sure it was noticeable. I said (typed), “You do realize if I used my married name, that would be my last name, don’t you?” She hadn’t. For some reason, I find that amusing. Yes, if I used my married name and wrote romance, everyone would think my name was contrived to increase sales. Tee hee. (I have that domain name locked up, too, thank you very much. Just for when I want to use it.)