Katelyn Buxton's Blog, page 7

English Names – Male

So often when writers are on the hunt for names, they have to resort to visiting baby name websites. And that's all fine and good—because there's probably way more babies being named than characters—but visiting sites like that can get a little... awkward. Today I decided to remedy this problem by doing the dirty work of sifting through baby name websites and onesies and pacifiers for you, and provide you with a list of English names on a purely writerly site. Maybe it's not a complete fix, but it's a Band-Aid. And a Band-Aid makes everything better (just ask any 3-year-old).

​Without almost any further ado, here's a list of male names and meanings for your characters. The reason I chose to do English names is because they're useful for just about any genre of writing, and it's also one of my favorite ethnicities for naming. I can't guarantee that they're all strictly English, or that their meanings are all spot-on, but this is a good place to start, even though this list is by no means complete. If you need female names,
A
Addison – Adam’s son
Ainsley – from the field of hermits
Albany – coming from Alba
Aldway – noble war
Alexavier – protector of the home
Alfred – advice from elves
​Amory – home power
Archer – bowman
Arlen – oath
Arley – hare’s meadow
Arlo– between two hills
Arnette – little eagle
Arthur – noble and lofty hill
Ashby – coming from the ash tree farm
Ashley – meadow of ash trees
Ashton – ash tree settlement
Atkins – home of the relatives
Audrey – noble strength
Averey – noble bear
​B
Bailey – governor; bailiff
Bartley – barley meadow
Bates – boatman
Beaman – beekeeper
Beck – living near a stream
Berry – from a fortified castle
Biff – fighting playfully
Birley – meadow with the cow barn
Blake – dark or fair
Blakely – dark meadow
Braden – broad valley
Bradley – broad clearing
Bramwell – bramble stream
Brandon – beacon hill; raven
Braylen – a broad valley
Brenner – little raven
Brent – one with the brand
Briley – briar wood
Bryson – Brice’s son
Butch – butcher
Byram – cattle yard C
Cadby – warrior’s settlement
Cade – circular
Callan – slim
Carlisle – Carl’s island
Carr – from the wetlands or marshlands
Carter – cart driver
Cayden – son of Cadan
Cederic – battle chieftan
Chad – war or soldier
Chandler – candle maker
Chanse – record keeper
Chaplin – priest or minister
Cheston – rocky fortress
Clarence – from Clare
Clayborne – brook near the clay pit
Clayton – town built near the clay pit
Clive – living near a cliff
Colden – coal town
Colter – taking care of horses
Colton – coal town
Cooper – a maker of barrels or tubs
Corvin – a raven
​Courtney – of the royal court
D
Dabney – white settlement
Dale – living in a valley
Darby – free from envy
Dayton – day town; light
Dell – a dell or valley
Denley – the dean’s farm
Devon – an English county
Drake – having dragon trademark
​Drayden – ?
E
Easton – eastern town
Eaton – a settlement near the river
Eldon – the elf’s hill
Erroll – earl or nobleman
Erwin – noble or boar friend
​Everwyn – boar friend
F
Falcon – falcon keeper
Fane – man with crown
Farrin – blacksmith
Fell – living in the mountains
Fletcher – one who feathers arrows
G
Gage – in charge of weights and measures
Garrett – spear warrior
Garridan – hidden fort
Gayle – cheerful, jovial
Grayson – son of the steward
Guthrie – a windblown place
H
Hadden – heather covered hill
Hadley – meadow of heather
Haelan – healer
Hain – enclosure
Harley – meadow in the woods
Hawke – hawk
Hayden – living in hay vale
Heath – hailing from a region with heather
Henley – from a high wood
Holden – hollow in the valley
Hoyt – high
​Hyde – measure of land
J
Jaden – ?
Jamie – supplanter
Jaylin – Jay bird
K
Kade – circular
Keaton – where hawks fly
Kelsey – from the island of ships
Kelton – keel town; seaport
Kelvin – friend of ships
Kenton –royal settlement
Kerr – brushwood or copsewood
Kinsley – king’s meadow
Kipp – salmon
Kirby – church village
Kolby – dark-haired one
​Kyler – living near a narrow channel
L
Landon – open, grassy meadow
Lange – tall person
Layne – narrow road
Layton – a settlement with a water course
Lee – from a clearing
Litton – from a settlement on a low hill
Lon – noble and prepared
London – ruler of the world
Lyndon – hill of Linden trees
M
Madison – good son
Manson – fierce one
Marden – valley with the pool
Marley – from the lake meadow
Maven – is knowledgeable
Merritt – border gate
​Mitchell – who is like God?
N
Nilson – son of Neal
​Norton – farm in the north
O
Oakley – at the Oak meadow
P
Pace – man of peace
Paige – youthful assistant
Paisley – from a glade
Parker – park keeper
​Payton – town of warriors
Peck – dealing with weights and measures
Piper – playing the pipe
Pratt – magician or trickster
Preston – the estate of a priest
​R
Radley – red forest or meadow
Ramsey – island inhabited by rams
Reid – a person with red hair
Reilly – from a meadow of rye
Rhett – advisor
Richard – rich and powerful ruler
Riley – from a meadow of rye
Robyn – small bird
Rodger – renowned spear
Rudd – of ruddy complexion
​S
Sherman – sheep shearer
Shirley – sunny meadow
Sinclair – from St. Clair
Sinjin – saint; holy man
​Slade – from a valley
Smith – blacksmith
Spencer – dispenser of provisions
Stewart – household guardian
​T
Tanner – leatherworker
Tate – ?
Taylor – cloth cutter
Terrell – stubborn animal or person
Tevin – ?
Thane – a warrior’s attendant
Tilden – from the good person’s valley
Tilton – prosperous town
Tobin – Yahweh is great
Todd – fox or foxlike
Tyler – tile maker
Tyson – son of Ty
​U
Unwin – the enemy
W
Walden – wood covered valley
Warden – valley watchman
Waylon – Wayland; land by the road
Wells – spring or stream
Wesley – from the west woods
Whitby – large white building
Whitfield – white field
Whitney – from a white island
William – determined guardian
Wilson – William’s son
Winn – fair
Winston – friendly town
Worth – from a farm
​Y
Yancy – son of Jan
​Yates – the keeper of the gates
​Z
Zane – ?
​Zayden – ?

​All names and meanings taken from or Baby Names.

Making Your Own Book Soundtrack

Movies have soundtracks, so why shouldn't books have them too? To celebrate the one-year anniversary of my blog here at Katelyn Buxton Books, I thought we'd do something fun—and no party is ever complete without music, so that's what we're going to talk about today!

First of all, imagine with me for a moment. You're driving, and the radio is turned on to your favorite station. Amidst the crackly jumble of familiar tunes, DJs, and ad interruptions comes a song that makes you grip the steering wheel a little tighter, because suddenly you're thinking about your favorite character. It describes their situation perfectly—it just breathes the essence of them.

I think every writer is guilty of this phenomenon, just like dreaming about the day our stories are committed to movie form (much as you might dislike it when that fate befalls your favorite book). If that ever happens, then your book will have a soundtrack. But is there really any reason to wait?

I'll start with an example. Anyone that has read my book Finding Hope knows that it's largely about a tortured teenage boy named Allister that comes to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, just when he felt like he was drowning in the overwhelming difficulties of life. The heavy, marching beat of Lift Your Head Weary Sinner (Chains) by Crowder perfectly embodies Allister's dramatic journey to the foot of the cross, as do the powerful lyrics. I have long thought of it as his song, and my sister will be the first to tell you I've often worn a goofy, authorly grin while listening to it. "All right, one song down, but aren't we missing a few?" you're saying. And in thinking that, you'd be correct. We need more songs for sure. But you have to start somewhere, right? Even though Lift Your Head Weary Sinner doesn't come chronologically 'till later on in the book (Allister's moment of salvation), it gets the wheels turning, and helps me think of similar songs, or other songs that I haven't yet connected with the story.

There's really no step-by-step formula for this, just get creative. You're the one that knows your story best. A fun thing to do with the completed soundtrack would be assemble it into a playlist or burn it to a CD for listening. Then press play, sit back, and enjoy. (More like fangirl/boy over your own masterpiece).

The point of this post, as well as its similar predecessor, When Writers Minecraft, is just to provide you with ways to add another dimension to your story, even if it isn't yet published. Writing it is just the tip of the iceberg. Minecraft lets you see it—music lets you hear it. Maybe this fun little excercise will help you reignite the passion you had for that project in the first place. It's a refreshing change of pace. Movies are no longer the only art form that have soundtracks—after all, books are the original movie.

Creative Writing Prompts III

Sometimes, despite our best-laid outlines and devious plot twists, writers still find themselves teetering on the edge of a deep, dark Plot Hole with no idea how to get to the other side. And the longer we look at that chasm of despair, the more it begins to appear like a mountain with such sheer sides that there's no hope of climbing it. Friends, this is called writer's block, and sometimes, the only way to overcome it is to turn to the Internet.

"What?" you say, "I thought being a writer was like 97% not getting distracted by the Internet?"

Well, you're right. Partly. By turning to the Internet I mean checking out some writing prompts, and for your convenience I've included ten right here—of the kind that will hopefully get your story breathing on its own again.

1.) "I—I have a problem."
"Tell me about it."
"No. Look."
2.) The distant wail of sirens chilled me to the marrow of my bones.
This could also be done with a scream.
3.) "No, no, no, anything but that!" Sounds scary, but it could also be humorous.
4.) Blue skies, a green field, and every animal in it dead.
5.) A mischievous grin.
6.) "I'm done. Ya'll are idiots."
7.) "Will you please stop singing that song? After the twenty-third verse it grates."
8.) A campfire.
9.) "People say coffee is what gets them going in the morning. I beg to differ. There's nothing that gets you going in the morning like a knife at your throat."
10.) The couple you've been planning to marry all along doesn't end up together.

I hope these helped, but if you want more:
Writing Prompts I
Writing Prompts II
My Writing Prompts board on Pinterest

When Writers Minecraft

My sister and I in Linfort dressed as two of my characters. Yep, you read the title right—When Writers Minecraft. At first you may be thinking, "What does a game like that have to do with writing?" but actually, since Minecraft is a large part about building, it can have a lot to do with writing.

Lately my sister and I have been playing together on a creative Minecraft PE world in which we're building the fictional country in my Warriors of Aralan series. We started with Linfort, (the small village most of my protagonists are from), and when we finished that, we moved on to the capital city, Freymont, and built the castle, the city around it, Norwynnd, and now we're working on the North Mountain.

"Well that's kind of cool, but why on earth would you go to all the effort of building an entire country on Minecraft?" Because it gives me a little thrill to see all the places I've envisioned so long in my head popping up before my eyes. Granted, it's Minecraft so nothing looks just like I thought it would, but since we writers like to dream about the (admittedly highly unlikely) day that our books are adapted into movie form, it's a little bit like seeing that happen.

Before we get started on how to do this I just want to say that everything below this point is written from the point of view of someone that has only played Minecraft PE, and is therefore geared towards that. Also, I'm an Apple person, so I don't know if the apps I list below are also available on Android.

All right, so here we go. The first step, and one of the most daunting, is to find a world that has a landscape somewhat similar to the one in your fictional world. (The only alternative to that being sculpting a flat world to suit your needs, but ain't nobody got time for that). We used a randomly generated world, but if you don't want to leave it to chance and possibly have to generate world after world after world, you can use a seed. I have limited experience with this, but I have used an app called Minecraft Seeds Lite when I wanted one.

Also, you have to decide whether you want to build in creative or survival mode. For me the choice was obvious (I certainly didn't want to mine all that cobblestone to build a huge castle with), so I went with creative. Of course you can always change that if you change your mind, but for building purposes, creative makes sense.

After you have your world picked out, you can make a skin that resembles one of your favorite characters to make it even more fun. This is a relatively new feature on PE, the platform I play on, and to do it I used an app called Minecraft Skin Studio, and once you get the hang of it it is pretty simple to do.

So now that you have a world and a skin that makes you look like one of your characters, you have to figure out which part you want to build first. Unless you're really devoted to Minecraft already, I would say don't be too ambitious. That's why my sister and I began building Aralan with Linfort. It's a small, comfortable village. Not too complicated. It warmed me up for tackling something more challenging.

After you've decided what you want to build, let your imagination run wild. I try to make everything look similar to what I see in my head, but sometimes, Minecraft doesn't have items that you need. For example, chairs. Depending on the situation they can be as simple as wooden stairs, or as complicated as doors paired with strategically-placed trapdoors to form armrests. Another small problem I've run across has been beds. Yes, Minecraft has beds, but sometimes a twin size bed with red covers just doesn't cut it. Do you really think the king and queen of all Aralan would settle for such a thing? No. So my sister and I made bigger beds with blocks of cactus green wool (their colors) for the sheets, and white wool to form the pillows. Much better.

So there you have it, how (and why) writers should and could Minecraft. For me it's just another extension of my writing passion, and I hope it will be for you too. Below are a few more pictures of my sister and I and Aralan's castle, to hopefully further inspire you to build your own fictional country! Yes, we stood on a tree to get a good angle of the castle. Hanging out with my newest protagonist's horse, Archer. And finally, the dungeons. After all, what's a castle without creepy dungeons? The main entry hall leading into the castle. The kitchens... mmm... cake...

My Writing Testimony

According to my "About Katelyn" author page, I have always been a storyteller, even if I haven't always wanted to acknowledge it. It's true, too, that my passion for creative writing took off in eighth grade after a history assignment which called for me to write a chapter with a cliffhanger. It's even true that I kept writing after that point only because I wanted to find out what happened next as much as my family did.

But as with any life story, there's much more to it than that.

I never started out to be an author. In fact, it wasn't until at least a year or two after I got hooked on writing that the idea of getting published even crossed my mind. I wrote purely for the simple joy of putting words together and breathing life into characters that never would have existed were it not for my imagination. My first ten or so stories were about anthropomorphic mice that lived in stumps, ate acorns, and battled foes such as hawks and rattlesnakes with basic tools like thistle spines and their own teeth.

Silly as it sounds, those "mouse stories" as I now refer to them, were a great training ground for my fledgling writing skills. They expanded my imagination, helped me figure out how to write myself out of corners I'd written myself into, learn to develop characters, and give them problems as well as solutions to overcome them by. Most of all, they helped me fall deeper and deeper in love with the craft, and scarce a day went by that I didn't sit myself down at the computer to write another chapter.

As beautiful as all that was, something was missing, even though I didn't realize it at first. I've been a Christian for most of my life, but there wasn't a drop of Christianity in any of the stories I wrote. I think God was letting me improve my skills during this time, but a couple years after I started I began to feel a nagging kind of guilt that I didn't write so-called "Christian" stories, even when I transitioned from animal characters to people.

So I tried. I wrote about a seventeen-year-old farmer's son named Finnegan Greenfield that, after a series of already bad situations turned worse by choices he made, found himself confronted by two Christian missionary's sons. After I introduced my faith the three-book series turned into a disaster, and it scared me away from trying it again for another couple years. I basically thought, "Well God, I tried, and it was awful. Guess I won't be doing that again."

I reasoned that, even though my characters weren't Christians, I was and my morals kept the books clean. That was good enough, right? Those thoughts kept me from trying again until early 2015, when I felt the tug in my spirit, this time stronger. I was on the path to getting my first eBook, Tè Nan Lezar published, and I argued with God when I realized what He wanted me to do. (And by the way, that's useless—He always wins).

I said, "Don't You remember what happened last time? It was a train wreck! You can't want me to try again, can You?" Every time I felt like I had to write a "Christian" book, I argued like this, but every time I turned around someone was mentioning using our gifts for God's glory. I thought, "God, You can't be serious. This is crazy. If I write this I'll drive people away, not closer to You."

But He was persistent, and the moment that was the last straw came one night when I attended my church's youth group and heard Jesus' parable about the talents in Matthew 25:14-30. I had heard that story a million times, and knew that "talents" meant "money," and had never thought of them as anything else. But that night I heard it differently, and realized it was God again telling me to use my gift to honor Him.

So I cried uncle. I said, "God, I don't know how this is going to work, but I'll give it another shot." That shot happened when I participated in Camp NaNoWriMo April 2015 and wrote Finding Hope. You want to talk about a free-fall? I'm the kind of person that looks when others leap and backs off saying, "Haha, nope." I had no idea how that book was going to work when I stepped out of that boat, but it did. He didn't let me fall—He caught me, and Finding Hope turned into the sweetest, most special time with the Lord I had ever had.

Call me naïve, but I thought worship was just the part that we sing on Sundays. It isn't. My gift is writing, and that's how I worship Him best, even though I still sing.

So that's my writing testimony, and I didn't tell it to you to come across as some self-righteous Bible-thumper. I told it to you because I remember reading somewhere that your story is the key to unlocking someone else's prison, and I can't be the only one that was scared witless thinking about introducing my faith into my writing. After all, writing is personal enough without that, too.

So what's your story? Has this helped you at all?

Writing is Work

There's no mistake about it—writing is work—for some more than others. I generally consider myself fortunate because I'm inspired almost all the time from the most random things, but for others, that just isn't the case. Lately even my "writing mood" seems to have deserted me. The words don't flow, and I have to fight to keep going.

This is what some call writer's block. Really, these are the times that separate the men from the boys, or more appropriately, the writers from the wanna-bes. It's been said before, but I'll say it again: writers write, so when the words feel like pulling teeth, we keep on pulling, no matter how much the characters shout.

"Well that's great and all," you say, annoyed, "But it's easier said than done." True. But if you have a general idea where you're going with the plot (and you're not stuck simply because you don't know what happens next—that's a different problem altogether) then you keep going. It is hard. But work isn't always easy, is it?

All right, so you've tried. You've tried to face that work-in-progress that just refuses to be written, and halfway through a chapter you had to quit. First of all, congratulations, you're a writer just because you put in an honest effort! Second, do it again tomorrow. There are a very few cases where your manuscript should just be dumped in the trash, but they are a very few. Just because it's hard doesn't mean it was a dumb idea. I'm a big believer in disciplining yourself to finish any book you start, and soon it'll become a habit that's hard to break.

Since I started writing six years ago, I've probably written over thirty stories, most of which aren't publishable. Out of that number, I've quit on only one. That practice has kept me going through the tough times, and I know it will for you, too, if you give it a try.

Remember, writers write, even when it feels more like work than play. Soon enough it will be enjoyable again. In the words of Jodi Picoult: "You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You can't edit a blank page."

So keep pulling those teeth.

Writing Honestly

"Write hard and clear about what hurts." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Honesty. I would argue that this is the best piece of writing advice out there. If you're not emotionally invested in your characters, their lives, the place they live in and the plot, then there's no reason left to write.

And I'm not just preaching here, I'm getting personal. I used to think that creative writing was an escape from reality—an adventure, living life through the eyes of heroes I wished I could be, with idealized versions of the world—but I was wrong, and in the past year I realized that. Writing is living life in intense retrospect.

Well, how do you know when you've been truthful? When you're afraid to show someone your work because if feels like handing them your heart and praying they won't break it, you know you did it right.* What the world needs isn't more tales of high adventure with flawless heroes—it's honesty.

People crack, they cry, they suffer. Your characters should do the same when appropriate. "Write hard and clear about what hurts." We don't want to admit we aren't perfect, but it's the truth, and when you write it, it won't feel good. Recently I wrote a character's death so brutally honest that I mourned with the characters the rest of the day. But you know what? As much as all of it hurts, it'll feel that much better when your readers thank you.

Writing is a high calling. Don't waste it.

* I understand that there are those of you that have been through a traumatic event, and if that's you, don't write about it until you're ready. Writing can help you heal, but not until you've let time do its work.

Excerpt from Finding Hope

First of all, I'm really, really excited to bring this eBook to you.  It's a project that has been very near and dear to my heart, and I hope you'll love it just as much as I do.  With that said, here's an excerpt of chapter one of Finding Hope (Warriors of Aralan book IV)!
​If you liked this you can download it here.
------------------------------
   Rhoslyn gripped her bow tightly as she raced through the forest, leaping over moss-covered logs and causing the world to whip by in a blur of brown and green.  As she crested a rise in the forest floor, she paused briefly to catch her breath.  There!  Her fist tightened around the well-worn handle of the bow as she watched her quarry leaping nimbly down the sun-dappled hillside in front of her.  Without a second thought she plunged after it.
   Several minutes later she was forced to halt her helter-skelter rush and try to breathe quietly.  Her prey had finally stopped its flight in a secluded hollow, ringed all around by bushes.  With trembling hands Rhoslyn reached over her shoulder and drew an arrow out of the quiver strapped to her back, never taking her eyes off the magnificent creature.
   The doe stood erect, ears swiveling back and forth as she tried to figure out which way the invisible menace was.  Without a sound Rhoslyn nocked the arrow to her bow and drew it, forcing herself to breathe more slowly so the shot wouldn’t go awry.  Carefully, taking her time so that she would be sure to kill the creature as painlessly as possible, she let her breath out in a silent sigh and relaxed the fingers holding the string.
​   Time seemed to slow down as Rhoslyn watched the arrow hurtle towards its target, and she felt a brief moment of sorrow for taking the animal’s life.  But then she gasped.  From out of nowhere a second arrow appeared, and they both pierced the doe’s heart.
   The doe gave a mournful cry somewhere between a wail and a scream, and Rhoslyn shivered, but then the creature crumpled to the ground.  The fourteen-year-old girl started out of the underbrush in order to examine her prize, then turned around and scanned the surrounding forest.  “Bradyn, you know I saw it first!”
   Grinning mischievously, Bradyn stepped out from the shrubbery not five feet from where Rhoslyn had been standing when she’d taken the shot.  Over his shoulder was a bow, and the fifteen-year-old strode along jauntily, red hair standing out like fire against the surrounding greenery.  “You’re getting to be too good of a hunter, I couldn’t let you steal all the glory again.”
   Rhoslyn rolled her eyes good-naturedly.  “Oh, right.  And whose idea was it that I should learn to hunt deer?”
   Bradyn knelt to examine their trophy and held up his hands, still smiling.  “Fair enough.  I’m just glad there’s at least one girl in the entire village that has some smarts.”
   Rhoslyn began a half-hearted search of the ground behind the doe, where their arrows might possibly be imbedded.  “What about my sister Aldyth?  She’s the most level-headed person I know.”
   “True, true,” Bradyn conceded as he slit the deer’s throat so it could bleed properly.
   Rhoslyn finally gave up when she could find no trace of the arrows and joined him, pulling out her own skinning knife.  Together they gutted the deer and then tied its legs to a long, sturdy branch, which they then hoisted onto their backs to carry home.  The meat was for Rhoslyn’s family, and they trudged the distance back to Linfort with dogged determination.
   When they finally arrived at the cottage on the edge of the small village, they were startled to hear muffled shouting from inside.  They deposited their load behind the house, and took a trip to the well where they got enough water to clean up a little.  When they had done that, they approached the house again.
   Rhoslyn was worried.  Sometimes her parents fought, but not this much.  Branwen and Quintin actually got along a lot better than most couples she knew, so this made her wonder if entering the house to announce their successful hunt was a very good idea.
   Bradyn also seemed worried, as evidenced by the shadow in his blue eyes and the lines of worry on his forehead.  If he was concerned, she knew there was a good reason to be.
   Rhoslyn stopped in front of the wooden door and took a deep breath before she turned the latch and stepped inside.  Instantly she realized that the fighting was not between her mother and father, but between Quintin and… who were these people in her home?  There were two grown men about the same age or older than her father, and a tall, straight young man that only seemed to be a bit older than she and Bradyn.  The three strangers had squared off against Rhoslyn’s parents, although Branwen and the young man seemed to want to distance themselves from it.
   “I didn’t kill your wife!” Quintin was shouting, “Darren did!  So if you have nothi—” he broke off abruptly when Branwen tugged on his sleeve and nodded to the two ashen-faced young people standing in the doorway.
   Rhoslyn’s father was not only tall, he was big and strong of muscle, and fittingly his favorite weapon was the battle-axe.  So when he was roused it took considerable self-determination to bring himself back under control.  He swallowed several times and blinked, nodding to Rhoslyn and Bradyn.  “Please leave us, we’re just having a little… discussion.”
   Rhoslyn nodded, turning around with a final lingering glance at the strangers in her home.  To her surprise she found the young man’s icy blue-eyed gaze resting on her thoughtfully.
   Unnerved, Rhoslyn turned and pushed past Bradyn to the outdoors and out of the confines of the heavy, fear and anger-laden atmosphere of her family’s home.  When both friends were back to where they had left the deer, they knelt and began to skin it and cut it into pieces.
   Several minutes passed in silence, and then Bradyn voiced the question that seemed loud even with no one speaking it.  “What was that all about?”