When I was pregnant with my first baby, I really didn't like the idea of settling on his name before he was born. Mostly, because I couldn't picture assigning a name to a person whom I didn't even know yet. My husband and I had a long list of baby names assembled that combined my desire for an offbeat, unique name with his desire to hold onto some of his family's traditional, heirloom names. Whenever I was asked what we were considering, I would spout off some of my personal favorites: Atticus (this was before the minor controversy that accompanied the publishing of Go Set a Watchman), Patrick ("Oh, that's my brother's name!"), and Phineas ("Like Phineas Gage?; the guy who survived having an iron rod driven through his skull?").
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