For years, it was my dirty little secret. I had special paper: lined white pads with no margins or holes down the left side. The pens had to be just so too, heavy black or blue fountain pens like we used in Catholic school. I needed two decks of cards, shuffled together. And my name lists, that was the most important thing.
I called it Writing Names, and the only people who knew I did it, my parents and my younger brother, teased me mercilessly about it. It was weird, they said, crazy even. And so I kept it secret from the rest of the world, not only when I was ten and eleven and twelve but for years afterward.
I was seriously unpopular during that time, too old to race around on bikes or play house in the woods, but too young to be so ashamed of my name obsession that I’d give it up. After school and through long summer days, I’d get out my paper and my cards and my lists and I’d settle in for hours alone with my Name Game.
Here’s how it worked: I had four lists of 144 names each – girls’ names, boys’ names, last names, and place names. The names on the lists were each keyed to a pair of cards: ace-two might equal Barbara, say, or eight-three Joseph. I’d shuffle my cards, divide them into two equal piles, and then turn over the first pair, which would indicate the fathers’ name in the family I was inventing. Then mom and last name. (more…)
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The brilliant visitors over on the Name Game board have done it again. The latest greatest game they’re playing is called 
