Tyler Willis, a blogger since April 2012, whose profile
image looks remarkably like a profile placeholder writes…
Dear Michael,
Some author's have commented about agonizing for days or weeks over their book
titles, others about the names of individual characters in the plot in terms of
wanting them to sound authentic. Your views on these may be enlightening for a
future comment, do you subscribe to any a set formula.
First off, thanks for asking Tyler. It’s not always easy to
come up with topics, and questions help.
Second…I don’t agonize.
Someone once pointed out that Rowlings did a lot of nifty
things with her character names. Hogwarts teachers often reflected what they
taught. Malfoy, using the prefix “mal” to indicate evil as in malevolent. Clearly some authors like to
put jokes or clues into character names.
If you read my books to completion you will see that I did
this too, but only in the case of the Big Bad revealed at the end. The rest of
the characters were named in a far less grandiose process. What process you
ask?
I collect names.
Much like a butterfly hunter, or perhaps more accurately, a
bird watcher—whenever I spot a name I like, I pin it into a list I keep. Street
signs are a great source of fun names. There are three streets near me called,
Niblick, Mashie, and Follin. I just couldn’t resist thinking how these just
sound like goblin names. Turns out they are golf terms—old names for clubs, I
believe.
I also own a very old encyclopedia of proper names, which
long ago I went through A-Z looking for any names I didn’t recognize that I
thought were cool. This is how I came across Dahlgren, and Persepolis, which I
changed to Percepliquis, because I thought it sounded better. I did this
decades ago and forgot about it. Now when I see a name of something from my
series in the real world I think—wow, someone named a city after my novels! At
this point I’ve lost track what words I made up, which I modified and which I
stole, but I keep a list—three lists actually, and they are: Male Names, Female
Names, Names of Places and Things. This is where I dump all my gathered words.
Then as I am writing and a character is spontaneously made, as sometimes
happens, I just run down the list until I find a name that suits the character.
How do I do that?
Ah, now this is a trickier question, and likely more to the
point of the inquiry. How do you name your dog, your cat, your parakeet? Most
people look at the pet. A black lab almost always is called Blackie or Shadow. One with a white tip on its tail might be Tippy. It should
be noted that almost all pet names must end in “y” or “ie” or have a derivative
form that does. I don’t know why, it’s just a law of pet ownership. The point
is you can look at an animal and come up with a name based on how they appear
or act. A dog saved from a shelter is often called Lucky.
Characters can be handled the same way. You know what they
are like and pick an appropriate title, but what about children? How do parents
pick names for an expected delivery. Most choose prior to the birth and if they
used the same method there would be a whole lot of Kickies, and Oppsies,
walking around. In this process the name comes first, the character later. Some
just pick a name they think is pretty, some because they want their child to be
unique, or if traditional— after someone they know or knew—and others (the kind
ones) pick based off the I-don’t-want-them-to-be-beaten-up-in-school rule. Some
I think pick names in the hope the child will grow into it thinking that it
might help shape them. These are the ones who insist their son is called
Charles, not Charlie (or god forbid Chuck!) or more obviously, Richard rather
than Dick. (How Dick is derived from Richard is still a mystery, maybe the
original Richard was a real tool.)
The same is often true when creating a fictional character.
Sometimes you name them and from that name comes their character. Someone named
Royce isn’t a barbarian, and Hadrian isn’t a librarian. Now Myron—okay, raise
your hand if you know why I named him that? Yes—of course. I was looking for a
mousy sounding name, a name that the moment you read it, an idea might begin to
form. Myron sounds small, and meek. Myron could be mean, bitter and vindictive
as well, but generally I don’t ever get the impression of a Myron being
pompous. Royce sounds elegant, cool, slick, classy, impressive, mostly because
of the car. Hadrian was a Roman Caesar who lent his name to a famous wall built
to defend England from Scotland. When you think of Hadrian Blackwater’s
character you can see the similarities.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. Blackwater has nothing to do with
the real life mercenary organization. I created the name long before the Iraq
War. But it is interesting how real life can sometimes imitate art.
I picked the names of the Essendons with a concept in mind.
Arista, Amrath, Ann, Alric…can you guess the pattern? The same pattern exists
with the Woods—Theron, Thrace, Thad. I was creating family units using the
first letters. This, as it turned out wasn’t such a great idea as readers
sometimes had trouble telling one from the other.
Most frequently however I will be typing along and come to a
point where I need to name someone. If that person isn’t significant to the
story, I look up at the blank wall, think a second, then look at the keyboard. Which letter should it start with? Ever
notice how letters have personalities? S is powerful, cool and often sinister:
sorcerer, Sauron, Snape. B is not so bright, simple but friendly: Biff, Billy,
Baggins. G I often associate with harsh guttural ideas like goblins (Gandalf
being an exception.) So often a name begins as simply as me looking down at the
keyboard and matching a letter to the character, then I might just type
something and read it to myself and see how it sounds. Then I will modify it to
make it easier to pronounce. Iirabith looks sorta cool, but also feels like a
mouthful so I might trim it down to Iribith. Better, but still an eye-stopper
if you’re reading along. That’s one I’ll
have to sound out or skip. So, then I might change it into something more
recognizable like Ibith and from that to Ibis. Anyone ought to be able to
pronounce Ibis. And since the first name is odd, I’ll make the last name easy
and just use a real word—Thinly. Why Thinly? It just popped into my head and I
like the way Ibis Thinly sounds.
As you might be able to tell, I don’t waste much time on
names.
When I was first writing the series back around 2002—when I
had never published anything before, and assumed quite logically, I never
would—I remember coming to a name problem, like what should I call the big city
in Avryn? I would pause and consider that I should put some time into this.
Then I would think, why? No one is ever going to read it so who the heck cares?
Why spend hours picking just the right name when it doesn’t matter in the
slightest. This was a very strong case for not belaboring the point, but then,
a very tiny—Myronish—voice would squeak, “But what if it sells? What if this
becomes famous? What if this series becomes huge and a generation later the
original six volumes are considered the canon that conventioneer fanatics quote
to one another like The Princess Bride
or Star Trek?” This got me nervous
and thinking what if every word I write, every name is studied by literary
professors someday who extrapolate deep meanings based on the choices I make
now?
Colnora is very
telling of Mr. Sullivan’s subtle underscoring of his universe. Col being a root
term used in ancient Greek being a reference to Sol or the sun. This shows that
the city is the center of the commercial or trading universe in the world of
Elan. While Nora was the first name of an extremely prolific and successful
writer of fiction at the same time Sullivan wrote his books. So clearly
Sullivan is telling us that the city of Colnora is really a metaphor for
Jesus.
This is my nightmare.
I don’t put a lot of thought into the names. I picked them
because they look and sound like the name such a person should have. Mauvin and
Fanen were plucked out of thin air when I wrote the scene at Drondil Fields in The Crown Conspiracy. At the time I had
no idea those two would appear in any future books. I most certainly would have
picked better names if I knew. I mean Mauvin? The guy is the closest thing I
have to Tom Cruise in the series and I called him Mauvin?
Royce and Hadrian were, of course, carefully picked. They
took shape long before I sat down to write the series—a full decade before to
be exact. Those were two names I kept highlighted at the top of my list along
with Arcadius, Esrahaddon, Avryn, Wyatt, Elden, Arista, Miranda, and others,
some I haven’t used yet.
So to answer your question. I don’t agonize, and my names
are not “authentic” (if you mean this in some sort of Earth historical,
regional, or cultural manner, as any relation to Earth’s past is completely
coincidental.) Rather I try and make them appropriate as a means of helping to
define the character. There are some very minor exceptions. Most names of
Calian origin like DeWitt and DeLancy have a “De” in front of them. I took this
idea from McDonald and McMurphy, O’Brien and O’Sullivan as a way to designate
an ethnicity. And of course there is a specific reason that Avryn, Galewyr,
Gilarabrywn, and other such names are the way they are as well. If you finished
the series you already know.
I did have one early beta reader complain that using the
names Deminthal and DeWitt for the same person was inappropriate because one
was of Scottish origin and the other of Baltic, or some such thing, and how
could that possibly be—clearly I was ignorant or just lazy. Actually I was
both. Yet since neither Scotland nor the Baltic, or Europe for that matter, are
in my world, and because I really didn’t think too many readers knew the
etymology of these words and their suspect conflict, I felt it was okay to
ignore this.
As for title names, well that is a lot more complicated.
Chapter titles I pick mostly after I write them, unless I have a clear idea
going in. Book titles are important and those I will work on longer as a book
title isn’t just a reflection of the contents, it’s a marketing tool.
The original title of The
Crown Conspiracy was Heirs to the
Throne. Everyone thought Heirs was awful—me included, but I thought it was
accurate and didn’t give anything away. It was bad because it wasn’t sexy and
there are so many Heirs and Throne based titles out already. The Crown Conspiracy was more
intriguing, more exciting and oddly enough was, and still may be, unique as a
title. Nyphron Rising was originally
entitled Legends and Lore, which I
loved. My wife didn’t. She complained that Legends
and Lore Googled terribly. I needed something less popular. Rising is also
popular, but throwing Nyphron in front made it unique, and it still described
the contents.
When Orbit came to me with the idea of turning the six books
into three, I became concerned as to what the three books might be called. I
didn’t want two titles on each, and I didn’t want them naming the books. So
prior to agreeing to the deal I came up with three titles and got them to
agree. To do that I put on my authors and marketing hats. I wanted titles that
described the books and worked well together to brand the series.
The first two books of the series had one common feature,
both deal with the stealing of swords. I feel titles need to be very short so I
came up with Theft of Swords. I then
realized that to meet my series brand requirement, all the books must have the
same pattern of Blank of Blank. For book two I saw the primary feature of those
stories concerned the establishing of the new empire and so Rise of Empire fit very well. The last I
struggled with. Wintertide and Percepliquis are so very different. Then
it hit me and I felt stupid. The title was littered throughout the books,
repeated constantly—Heir of Novron.
Three short names, equal in pattern, but reflecting the theme of both books
contained within.
And there you have it Tyler. I hope this was helpful—a name
by any other rose is a horse of another color.
