odd_buttons (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
odd_buttons) wrote2004-11-22 06:34 am
odd_buttons) wrote2004-11-22 06:34 am
Names
Thwackum. Heh.
The following is an excerpt from Part III of the book Making Shapely Fiction, by Jerome Stern. The first two parts are very much worth reading as well. The book is available in paperback.
Names
Some writers have a problem in naming characters. They may choose names like Justinian or Angelique because they like them, even though the names don't suit the characters' backgrounds. Or they believe that the "real-life" character has a name so perfect that they can't imagine any other. Still other writers don't like to think about names an choose the first Tom, Dick or Mary name that comes to mind.
In fact, creating names is too important to be neglected or treated lightly. Every time you mention the name, you're giving your character body, life, and personality. A subtly suggestive name creates a cluster of impressions. Joseph Serzicki sounds different from Newington Tribble. Names are succinct ways of suggesting a character's ethnic, religious, geographical, and social background. Names tell about parental aspirations -- Tiffany Trump, or Percy Shelley Underwood. They tell how much a family is governed by its' past (Hamilton Quince_, how much it wanted to reject tradition (Purple Hayes), or how much ambivalence there is about its heritage (Kevin Cohen). Give your characters full names. Characters without full names are Ken and Barbie.
Names can have a symbolic and thematic resonance as well. In earlier fiction, names were often overtly meaningful, almost allegorical. The good man in Henry Fielding's Tom Jones is Squire Allworthy. The nasty chaplain who believes in corporal punishment is Thwackum. In the twentieth century, that explicitness seems old-fashioned, but names do still suggest ideas. In Nathaneal West's Miss Lonelyhearts our hero is treated cruelly by the relentlessly cynical Shrike. Thomas Pynchon's questioning heroine in The Crying of Lot 49 is names Oedipa.
Inspiration for good names is everywhere -- in baby-name dictionaries, in obituaries, in circuit court dockets, in phone books, and in literature. But don't appropriate the full real name of a private person. Even if you invent a name, if you say the character is from Ronkonkoma, before publication you'd better make sure no such person lives in Ronkonkoma. Lawsuits have occurred.
Names that are too contrived create their own problems. When the names seem artificial -- Arlington Stormdrain or Ozwanne Damme -- readers tend to be put off. The unreality of the names undercuts credibility right from the start.
As noted in the section "Don't Do This," writers often unconsciously give characters names that are phonetically and visually similar. Barry and Larry, Kim and Jan. That confused readers. Names that have different sounds, shapes, and lengths help to differentiate your characters.
See Character, Places and Place Names.
The following is an excerpt from Part III of the book Making Shapely Fiction, by Jerome Stern. The first two parts are very much worth reading as well. The book is available in paperback.
Names
Some writers have a problem in naming characters. They may choose names like Justinian or Angelique because they like them, even though the names don't suit the characters' backgrounds. Or they believe that the "real-life" character has a name so perfect that they can't imagine any other. Still other writers don't like to think about names an choose the first Tom, Dick or Mary name that comes to mind.
In fact, creating names is too important to be neglected or treated lightly. Every time you mention the name, you're giving your character body, life, and personality. A subtly suggestive name creates a cluster of impressions. Joseph Serzicki sounds different from Newington Tribble. Names are succinct ways of suggesting a character's ethnic, religious, geographical, and social background. Names tell about parental aspirations -- Tiffany Trump, or Percy Shelley Underwood. They tell how much a family is governed by its' past (Hamilton Quince_, how much it wanted to reject tradition (Purple Hayes), or how much ambivalence there is about its heritage (Kevin Cohen). Give your characters full names. Characters without full names are Ken and Barbie.
Names can have a symbolic and thematic resonance as well. In earlier fiction, names were often overtly meaningful, almost allegorical. The good man in Henry Fielding's Tom Jones is Squire Allworthy. The nasty chaplain who believes in corporal punishment is Thwackum. In the twentieth century, that explicitness seems old-fashioned, but names do still suggest ideas. In Nathaneal West's Miss Lonelyhearts our hero is treated cruelly by the relentlessly cynical Shrike. Thomas Pynchon's questioning heroine in The Crying of Lot 49 is names Oedipa.
Inspiration for good names is everywhere -- in baby-name dictionaries, in obituaries, in circuit court dockets, in phone books, and in literature. But don't appropriate the full real name of a private person. Even if you invent a name, if you say the character is from Ronkonkoma, before publication you'd better make sure no such person lives in Ronkonkoma. Lawsuits have occurred.
Names that are too contrived create their own problems. When the names seem artificial -- Arlington Stormdrain or Ozwanne Damme -- readers tend to be put off. The unreality of the names undercuts credibility right from the start.
As noted in the section "Don't Do This," writers often unconsciously give characters names that are phonetically and visually similar. Barry and Larry, Kim and Jan. That confused readers. Names that have different sounds, shapes, and lengths help to differentiate your characters.
See Character, Places and Place Names.