We can’t all be Kings.
Hello. My name is Stephen Knezovich. Pronounced ka-nes-o-vitch. I know, it’s awful–like the hacking cough of an Eastern European hobo.
Growing up my surname served as a verbal embarrassment for myself and anyone forced to attempt a pronunciation (the most common victims being indolent telemarketers and hapless schoolmarms). It was such an awful name (even in Western PA where homeroom roll call sounds like a Russian hockey squad) that at one point my mother–whose maiden name is the very sensible, very German, Fiedler–was so fed up with the name that she campaigned for a legal name change.
Her solution was simple enough. Translate it to English. Unfortunately, in Croatian, Knezovich translates to “son of prince.” Which means if my mother was successful, the world would now know me as Stephen Prince. Jesus, could you imagine? Even if I woke up one day and accidentally published (or wrote) something I would never be better than Stephen King.
With all the recent posts lately about names (not to mention my girlfriends insistence that the to be a successful athlete you need a cool name), I’m really considering a name change. Now, I don’t want to venture too far from the original (Stephen Michael Knezovich), but if I’m going to make it as a writer, I only have two options 1) get a zippier name, or 2) actually sit down and write something.
Here’s are the names I’ve been kicking around (suggestions welcome):








