An edited repost from the archives.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.
William Shakespeare , Romeo and Juliet, Act II Scene II
One of the most common questions readers ask is how do I (and other writers) come up with character names? Especially names that end up in our daily lexicon? Fictional names, if used properly, not only evoke emotion but can make permanent indentations in history’s timeline. Some are so famous we know them by single names: Hamlet. Juliet. Romeo. Gatsby. Odysseus. Brutus. Scrooge. Pip. Alice. Heatchcliff. Aslan. Frankenstein. Gandalf. Jekyll. Hyde. Voldemort.
Others need a surname or moniker, but are also instantly recognizable like: Holden Caulfield. Huck Finn. Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth Bennett. Jack Reacher. Harry Potter. Atticus Finch. Long John Silver. Catherine Earnshaw. Jane Eyre. Count Dracula. Hester Prynne. Mr. Rochester. Scarlett O’Hara.
I’m sure you could think of others. Then there are the YA novels who stole the concept of “shipping names” from the old soap opera message boards. Remember LUKA for Luke and Laura? In YA novels, the names (first or last) of the hero and heroine are melded together to form a relationship name unique to them. Some of my favorite examples are FOURTRIS (Divergent series), EVERLARK (Hunger Games series), ROMIONE (Harry Potter), PERCABETH (Percy Jackson series), DUNE (Legend series), and CLACE (Mortal Instruments series).
In Shakespeare’s famous quote above, he’s referring to the concept that names inherently have no meaning. They are used to label or distinguish people or things and only carry the meanings that we (or the reader) place upon them. Yet, when we name things or people we gain intimacy with them. The name eventually offers a shared history, familiarity, and becomes layered with emotions. So naming things, while a simple concept on the surface, threads subtext and themes throughout stories that the author may not even aware of while writing the book. And that just adds stress (and self-doubt) to an author’s life.
For me, choosing names has always been an issue. Since I was named after a waitress my mother worked with one summer, and not a family member, my name has always stood out in my Irish Catholic family. Sharon is not a typical Irish Catholic name, and I always felt like my first name fought with my maiden name of Brennan. Like the latter bristled when pushed up against the former.
Then I learned the name Sharon has an interesting history. In Hebrew, it means “plain” or “fertile valley”. It also refers to a flowering bush called The Rose of Sharon. But the name gained popularity in 1925 with the publication of a serial novel “The Skyrocket” by Adela Rogers St. Johns (fabulous name for an author) whose main character is an actress named Sharon Kimm. To be honest, I’ve never read the book nor seen the silent movie made in 1926. But, apparently, the story hit a nerve and the name Sharon took off for a while. Then, after WWII, the name lost favor and was used sparingly.
Although I’ve come to peace with my own uncommon name, and I have favorite characters whose names I will remember forever, I’ve always struggled with choosing the perfect name for all of my characters. For men, especially heroes, I like strong names with initial hard consonants. They carry a weight when spoken out loud and appear with sharp edges when typed out. (Jack, Alex, Pete, Nate, Rafe, Zack, etc.) My Sourcebooks editor also requires the first name of all heroes to be one-syllable names, and I’ve heard from other writer friends that other publishers have similar requirements for names within certain fictional genres like romance, sci fi, etc.
For female character names, I’m even pickier. Regardless if the heroine is an ex-intelligence agent or Smithsonian archivist, her name has to be the exact opposite of her hero’s in both tone and form. Heroines’ names can be multi-consonant and even hold up an accent aigu. (Sarah, Madeleine, Charlotte, Amélie, Samantha, Katherine, Elizabeth, Ygritte). All of the female names can be shortened to sound tougher, depending on the situation and what type of person she is at the beginning or who she becomes at the end. The funny thing is that after I go through all of this work, my characters will often introduce themselves to me with their own names perfectly suited to who the are.
So why all this angst over names? Why drag out my ancient, dog-eared copy of Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Character Naming Sourcebook and spend hours studying all my options? Playing around with shipping names on the off chance someone will one day make my love stories canon? The answer is as simple as it is complex.
Names (and nicknames) tell us about a character’s culture, background, education, social status, where they come from, and where they fit into the world. They even evoke the genre and time period of the story. Most of all, names carry emotion. And a perfect name will give you an instant visual image of that character with all of the problems he or she is about to face as they begin their journey. A perfect name will make you worry about them. Make you cry for them. And make you cheer for them. That’s a lot of responsibility for a first and/or last name to carry. Even more responsibility for the author. But the stress of discovering the perfect character name is worth the work. Because, who knows, one day I may end up with a Pip or Scarlett of my own.
