When we, as "creators" of characters, give them a name, we are giving them half of their personality. Half of what makes them different from every other character in the wide wide world of literature. A name is a double-edged sword. It immediately sets one apart from the mass of people, and lets on a little bit of the characters personality. Charles Dickens was a master of choosing names that reflected, in some way, the person himself. Think of the host of characters peopling his novels:
Miss Betsey Trotwood-one immediately pictures a bustling, officious, stiff, but goodhearted woman.
Ham Peggoty--without a vestige more of thought that I would usually give line in a book, I knew Ham Peggoty was a bluff, honest, likeable young man with a country air about him.
Abel Magwitch--I don't know about you, but this is a convict's name and nothing else.
Estella Havisham--Cold, starlike, beautiful, unattainable--the name says it all.
Philip Pirrip, or Pip--I love the name Pip. A boy named Pip simply could not be all that bad. :)
I could go on, but I trust you get the point. The naming of a character, like the naming of a ship or the christening of a child, is a bit of eternity at the tip of your pen. (Relatively, in the case of the ship and the character) Make it worth your while. While I do not advocate excessively strange names, even in fantasy/sci-fi stories, or wild spellings like Kiylea (for Kylie), I like to make my names work for me. I am not a touting myself as a mistress of all naming ceremonies by any means, but I am patient with naming my characters. If a name does not fit, my character might be nameless for a scene or two. I try different names on my people, and if by the morning I am having trouble recalling what it was I named the character, I know it isn't right for them.
Here are some of the names in my tales:
Dharma--an Indian merchant and friend of the Seasoning children
Sali--cross, stout, Indian cook, sometime friend of the Seasoning children
Basil Andrew Cyrus Seasoning--he, and his siblings, rattle their four-digit names off like a catechism, but they give them distinguishment.
Miss Lily Piccalo--lovely, airy, rich, and sweet young lady who might have been the perfect mother, were it not for Dill's...ahem...Lies about certain family members.
Tuck and Dot Williams--Properly Tucker and Dorothy, this brother and sister duo are the essence of adorable childhood. Tuck gives one the idea of rather a Huckleberry Finn character, slightly tamed, and Dot is the perfect word to describe a baby so round and plump and rosy.
Flounder, Ann Company-- I have written her such to better show her name, spun up by her eccentric, Dickensian father. The name immediately sets this lass up to be a wild-card.
Gardenia O'Talley--Superfluous in everything, but especially her airs of Propriety, the O'Talley is stiff as starch, self-important, and no fun at all.
Nan Thrushwood--This name grew onto the character as naturally a morning glory twines up a trellis. It completes the picture of the plump, rosy, robin-like crofter's daughter who flies into the wintry darkness of Delgrade Heath and turns life upside down.
Cyril Delgrade--A cold, heartless, withdrawn name that perfectly fits the master of Delgrade Heath...that is, until... :)
See? Anyway, what are some of your characters' names? Are names important to you, or is it just a queer fancy of mine that the proper handle on a thing gives you a tighter grip? I challenge you to take a second look at your names and make sure they are working for you, not painting a picture of blandness over a sparkling personality. :) ~Rachel







