Notes From the Editor's Desk #2: What's in a Name?

Have you ever been reading a book, and at some point THAT question has occurred to you? That one, all-important question that is like the cape test for a Superman casting. That question is, of course, "Who the F%&K names their child that?"

Whether you're James Bond, Conan the Barbarian or Tarzan Earl of Graystoke, your name as a character is more than just a convenient handle to designate you as a person we as the audience need to watch. Names have meaning, personality and connotation, and all of that will be communicated to your audience. A name is that first impression that you never, ever get to redo, and it can make or break your story.

Give you a good example without naming names (because on the Internet, who the hell has a real name anyway?). I was discussing this very issue with someone who wanted to name the female lead of a grand, epic war story Loki. Points for originality and breaking down gender barriers by taking the name of a trickster god and giving it to a female lead who will apparently be ploughing furrows with dead soldiers and watering crops with their blood. But, and this is the really important question here, WHY?

There is more why in this one decision then my brain really has room for, but I'll point out some of the obvious ones. Why would you take a male name and give it to a female character? Why take a name from Norse mythology, especially when (it was later revealed) there are no other Scandinavian names in the story, much less Norse deity names. Why choose the name of a trickster god instead of, say, the goddess of death? Or battle? Those were all the ones I managed to get out before my brain overheated and I had to go watch Yahtzee for a while. For those of you who don't know who Yahtzee Croshaw is, shame upon you and go read this review here.

The point here is that a name is your first opportunity to completely lose your audience's interest. Readers like names that are believable, that fit the genre and (here's the most important one) aren't obviously ripped off of something without explanation.

I'll give you an example. When I saw a contest that asked me to write a, "post-apocalyptic romance with a happy ending" I accepted that challenge and penned a tale called "Heart of the Myrmidon." The main character is named Pollux, which, for those who don't know, is a reference to the myth of Pollux and Castor who were great warriors and brothers. Pollux, however, was immortal whereas Castor, in many myths, was not.

So, at first glance, it looks like I just broke my own cardinal rule. Ah ha, but here's where the critical thing for non-sensical or bizarre names comes in... backstory! You see, in this tale, Pollux is one of a defunct set of experimental soldiers called Myrmidon (another Greek reference for those who see where this is going). They had no mothers, and thus they were named by scientists. All myrmidons have only a first name, and those first names are taken from Greek myth. Other characters (whom I hope to explore in the novel, which I'd like to write based off of this short tale) include brethren myrmidon named Castor and Helen, and the police/military force of this futuristic, dystopian world are referred to as Spartans. So you see, in this context, the name makes sense. But if he was the only one wandering around talking to Dick, Jane and Steve? The audience would close the book, pick up their vastly distended belief and look for something to repair the tear in it.

That's the key that all character names have to have: context. Even characters that have completely bizarro names (like Bizarro for instance) must have some explanation of why their names are so out of place, context or era. It doesn't even have to be a complicated explanation. Ever heard of Norville Rogers? You know, that famous character on that one amazingly popular show that has achieved international success? No? Well, that's because his pretentious name was changed to "Shaggy" by his friends. Given that he was hanging around with Fred, Daphne and Velma, we might have managed to get away with Norville... but to keep him as a simple, every-man character, we just gave him a nickname.

See? It isn't hard to make names good, solid and believable at all.

However, names also have connotation and personality that authors need to be aware of. Short, curt names with hard consonants (like Kurt, for instance) have a strong, masculine sound to them. Even when they're given to female characters, that impression lingers. Longer, more flowing names (and particularly names from Romance languages) tend to be viewed as softer or more feminine. Pete is that guy with the broad shoulders that plays left tackle and eats red meat. Pierre is that guy who smokes ultra-thins, knows how to make good quiche, and can wear a beret and scarf un-ironically.

There's a lot there you can play with too, if you really want to. However, and this is a habit that I've already admitted to, names can also give you an insight to aspects of your character. Before I ever acknowledged the raw physical size or military background of Pollux, people who know that myth already have an image of a strong, masculine warrior in their head. The same would have been true if I'd named him Thor. Or Clint. Comic books do this all the time. Ever take a look at some of these handles? The guy who metamorphosizes into a biker on a hell chopper with a flaming skull for a head is named Johnny Blaze? Seriously? The guy who ends up leaving a career in neurosurgery to become the most powerful sorcerer in the world is actually named Stephen Strange? And let me make sure I saw this right, the ruler of the most dangerous and fascist country in the world went to college for a doctorate and enrolled under the name Victor Von Doom?

Context, once again. You could take the implications you get with any of those names and work with it to create a new and unique character. But if you suddenly want to take someone named Alfred Pennyworth and make him into some kind of super-spy badass instead of a formal British butler, then you're going to have a lot of work ahead of you.

... what do you mean someone did that already?