Toward the end of today’s Impromptus — after much Sturm und Drang, huffing and heaving — I have a sweet lil’ note about a name. A reader had written me, “. . . I had an ancestor in the Massachusetts Bay Colony named Experience Bliss. She married into the Chaffee family.”

Now another reader writes, “We have an ancestor who lived in South Carolina in the late 1700s named Freshwater Heritage. Impossible to find much information by Googling his name. You have to wade (!) through hundreds, if not thousands, of entries on wetland preservation.”

I bet.

Also in Impromptus, I happen to discuss one of the most famous middle initials in conservativedom: the “Q” in “James Q. Wilson.” (Some of us have referred to him — with affection and reverence, you can be sure — as “Jimmy Q.”) Professor Wilson’s middle name is Quinn.

A reader and friend of mine writes in about middle initials — and prompts the question, When should a writer use his middle initial, in his byline or whatnot? The matter is entirely individual, of course. No one can advise another. But since I’m so full of opinions . . .

I’ve always said that, if your name is a common one — e.g., David Smith — you might as well use a middle initial, for purposes of distinction. Then again, you may want to force all the other David Smiths to distinguish themselves, while you yourself stand as the one, true “David Smith.”

I like what our John Miller does — he rolls with “John J. Miller.” Which not only distinguishes him, but gives us the immortal and cherished shorthand “JJM.”

If your name is, say, Hyacinth Dinkelheimer, you of course have no need of a middle initial. But sometimes such a person will put one in — and bill herself as, say, “Hyacinth T. Dinkelheimer.” I’ll think, “Oh, that one!”

P.S. Thought I’d do a little mail preemption: Yes, the most famous middle initial in all of journalism is “8” — as in Jennifer 8. Lee. “Beat that,” WFB (talk about initials!) would say.