Blonde Day
I got up this morning and I was feeling kind of cheeky, kind of funny, and decided this was the perfect day for pigtails and my toxic green Little Miss Naughty t-shirt. A phone call later on reminded me of a doctor’s visit I’d conveniently forgotten about. By then I’d also totally forgotten about my cheeky, funny morning and headed straight out the door.
I’ve never been grinned at quite so much in my life. I was feeling kind of charismatic, kind of charming. Then, after the appointment, I was on my way back to the car and an old fellow looked at me, grinned and said, “I like your t-shirt.” I thanked him, then once I’d edged away far enough, I looked down.
Oh. Whoops. I wasn’t kind of charismatic, kind of charming. I was just a source of amusement.
How deflating.
What’s in a Name?
Character names are something I struggle with, especially because I gravitate towards genres where Frank and Bob are less likely to be common names. My weapon of choice in my little war on names is to make up a partial language and naming structure. By doing it that way, if I need to name someone or something, I can just check the language and pick something which fits.
Even that can have its drawbacks. There are only so many combinations of syllables available. Character names often tend to exist, in some variety, in the real world. Not always directly recognisable but the sharp-eyed reader will notice similarities. Ordinarily that wouldn’t be an issue but sometimes I find things in the story line up in accordance with the real-world associations with the names.
One character needs a definite rename. He shares a name with a lesser-known classic deity (so, not Zeus) and has started taking on the characteristics of that deity as the story progresses. I’ve got two options there. I can rewrite him and put him back on his originally intended path. That’s fine, he was only ever intended as a minor character anyway. So that leaves me with plan B — rename him.
I keep asking myself, would he have taken this path if I had named him Bob? Was his evolution a function of the needs of the story or was it a subconscious decision I made based upon his name? To paraphrase Shakespeare, would a character by any other name still act as duplicitous?
Following naturally on from that is my next dilemma. If I rename my problem character will he continue on his current path or will he return to his place in the background? I do rather like the direction the story took when he made his shift. I don’t want to be one of those writers who obviously names their characters based on their intentions for those characters. That’s a technique which can be a nice little quirk when done right but if it’s too heavy-handed it ends in a book-shaped dent in the nearest wall. But I don’t want to change his name if it means losing this new path. I feel I’m walking a fine line.
I know, stop worrying about that and just write the bloody book. But God I hate coming up with character names.