Not a lot of thought, apparently.
A while ago, somebody asked about the process by which the various trans women of the Fediverse (about 99% of the denizens of the Fediverse, at last count) came by their current name. I've had mine for the last five years now, and have recently made it official with various branches of the bureaucracy. To the best of my recollection I arrived at it like like so.
It occurred to me that it was a misuse of one of the awesome powers of transness (such as effortlessly winning any sporting contest one enters, going to the lavatory so gracefully that it is perceived as an affront to the dignity of others, etc.) to pick a name that was too appropriate, flattering, or simply nice in some ineffably enchanting way. After all, I reasoned, few cis people, apart from Equity members, have a pressing excuse to change their given name, and so begrudgingly persist with one which may suggest a parental yearning to sire a fine accountant (Desmond), spiritually enlightened mystic (Chantelle), or universally beloved salt-of-the-earth life-and-soul-of-the-party (Barry).
So my first name had to be something relatively unremarkable; indeed preferably quite common around the time of my birth. Also something that didn't reflect my personality in any way, or evoke the memory of one or more heroic individuals.
One day, as I was defrosting the fridge or something, the name "Katy" popped into my head, and I thought "I hate it. It doesn't suit me at all. It's perfect!"
The problem was that now with a new common first name and a pre-existing quite common surname, I'd never be found on the Internet. So yes, to my lasting shame, I Search Engine Optimised my name.
In my defense, it's a bit late for me to earn a lucrative living toiling away anonymously in a traditional trade, so whatever I do with the rest of my life, I can't afford to languish on the forty-seventh page full of Katies. Thinking again of Actors' Equity, I recalled Withnail standing on a tor, overlooking a moor, and musing "I think I'll call myself Donald Twain."
Rotate the first letter alphabetically by -1, and Bob's your uncle. Or Katy's your stooped old maiden aunt with trembling hands, rheumy eyes, a sinister smile, an indeterminate number of cats, and a faint aroma of fruit brandy and carbolic soap.