Ask O: How Do I Find Just the Right Name for My Characters?

Good morning! Ocieanna here. It’s Ask O Wednesday, the time when I answer your questions about writing. Fiction, nonfiction, plot, setting, research, character development—anything you want, I'll try to answer! Write me a note with your question and I'll give it a go.

This week’s question: How do I find just the right name for my characters?

That’s an important and sometimes difficult topic because names matter—are worth thinking about, discussing, and refining. I want my characters’ names to do something—exactly what can vary—but overall, I want them to resonate with my readers.

How do we christen our characters? Here are some techniques I’ve found as well as some “Why’s”.

Poor Asheley Wilkes
Sometimes we pick based chiefly on how a name sounds. A well-toned moniker helps readers relate to the carefully crafted players in our stories. Consider some familiar characters. From Pride and Prejudice, Bingly chimes of happy congeniality; Darcy sounds dark. In Gone with the Wind, Scarlett O’hara fits perfectly, as does Rhett Butler. And don’t forget poor Asheley Wilkes—what hope did he have with that flimsy name?

To work through this process, I throw names on my characters like changes of clothes. Does Bubba McFlat fit? No. How ‘bout Charlie Prince? Not really. Jonathan Kirkpatrick. Yeah, that one’s pretty good. Dickens mastered this. Ebeneezer Scrooge—what name could sour the ears better? And Fezziwig rings of a jolly party thrower. Little Tim? Can’t help but feel sorry for the sweet tyke.

Why? Picking names based on sound adds another tool to give the reader a deeper sense of satisfaction with our stories. On the flip side, an ill-fitting name distracts and annoys.

Find the Hidden Meaning
My husband recently read Uncle Tom’s Cabin. “Honey,” he said, his voice full of thought, “I think the character Evangeline represents the gospel.” (Evangel means gospel. How smart is he?) Lots of names are pregnant with meaning. Did you know Aslan means lion in Turkish? And think about Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. Scout—she’s scouting out the truth. Or a strong leader might have the name, Leo, suggesting lion.

If you have a well-defined character, make a list of his or her traits. Then go to a baby names web site and look up names that go with the meanings you’ve listed. You It’s sure to spark your creativity.

Why? Layers, layers, layers. Giving our characters meaningful names adds the yummy depth that keeps readers coming back for more.

Do I Know You?
Another name-picking device springs from allusions to well-known characters. Remember Francine Rivers’ book Redeeming Love? The hero’s name was Michael Hosea—and, well, the book’s patterned after the biblical story of Hosea.

I’m sure Moby Dick author Herman Melville had a purpose in naming his monomaniacal captain after evil king Ahab. In the book Ella Enchanted, the hero and heroine’s names are, Ella and Char. It took me till the last chapter to figure out she was pointing me to Cinderella and Prince Charming. I’m a little slow.

A twist on this is naming characters with the first letters of their famous precursors’ names. In East of Eden, John Steinbeck’s twins Cal and Aron coincide with Cain and Abel, which they represent. Liz Curtis Higgs’ Scotland-set novel, Thorn in My Heart, mimics the lives of Jacob, Rachel, and Leah. Her corresponding character names begin with the same first letters.

Why? Allusion is a time-tested literary device. Using it in the name-picking process gives readers a clue—one perhaps no one else will notice (or so they think)—to the character’s true identity.

Quick Tip
Reminder: Be careful that your characters’ names fit the time period they live in. You wouldn’t want an American Revolution era gentleman named, Biff, or a World War II lady called Madison.

Though naming our precious characters can be challenging, finding the most fitting names not only adds layers of depth and meaning, it’s also satisfying as a writer.

August Rush Asks a Question by Susan May Warren

Welcome to the first Manuscript Monday of April. We're pleased Susan May Warren will continue her series on "Craft Tips and Techniques from Today’s Blockbusters" As a lover of movies (Annette here, though I know Dawn loves movies, too) I've appreciated the parallels Susie's used to help us study craft. Enjoy!

August Rush Asks a Question
by Susan May Warren

It’s the question that is answered in the last line...

Can you hear it?

August Rush Asks a Question

Listen, can you hear it? The music.

I can hear it everywhere.

In the wind;

In the air;

In the light;

It’s all around us.

All you have to do is open yourself up;

All you have to do is listen.

These are the opening lines of last fall’s delightful movie, August Rush, delivered in the haunting, delicate voice of amazing young actor Freddie Highmore. The story opens with young Evan, a so-called orphan, leading a symphony made up of tall grasses in some lush field in upstate New York.

If you haven’t seen August Rush, rush out (pun intended!) and get it today because the soundtrack is soul filling. The pure delight in Evan/August’s eyes as he creates music resonates in the soul of any writer who loves to try on words for size, move sentences around, watch a character take life. Or for that matter, anyone who writes, or runs, or sings or even cooks, just because they must.

You’ll also learn something about the use of story question woven clearly, if not overtly, through every character, every scene in the movie.

A story question, more than a theme of any story, song, or movie, is a specific question that lingers behind every scene, every line of dialogue, every action the character makes. It’s the question that is answered in the last line. It’s the thing that makes a reader/viewer mull upon the story they’ve experienced long after the last notes have faded.

What can we learn about Story Question from August Rush?

Is it possible to hear the music in a person’s heart? Is music universally bonding? I think anyone who has been to a concert (Rascal Flatts to Daugherty) will pump a fist into the air with a resounding yes! But August Rush takes that question and turns it personal. Can people create music—essentially expose their souls to the world—and connect with the one person they’ve been looking for all their lives? This is the specific question that Evan/August asks as he runs away from his orphanage and sets out on a quest for his parents. And it’s this specific question, applied to this little boy, that drags us, fearing and cheering, with him.

It’s not only Evan/August who grapples with this question. In a well-woven story, the main characters all wrestle with some element or mutation of this question. His parents (Keri Russell and Jonathon Rhys Meyers) experienced the answer—which cumulated in August’s conception—but years later lost the ability to listen, to even hear their own music. Until they begin to hear it in their own souls, they’ll never hear it in August’s. The Wizard, played by Robin Williams, believes in the universal truth but scoffs at this personal application, angry with some wretched past at how this hope has betrayed him. He refuses to listen to the music inside and is angry at August’s naivety. The effect of August’s quest— and his unwavering conviction—is shown through the eyes of his social worker (Terrance Howard), who becomes a believer as he sees August’s dreams materialize.

[Spoiler Warning] Although critics might call the story overwritten, even sappy, it’s enjoyable because the answer to the question is easily accessible. We see the journey both parents take as they first acknowledge their “deafness” and begin to open themselves up again to their music; we see how “music” cares for August, landing him in Julliard, and even when he’s pulled back to the street, putting him face-to-face with his father in a wonderfully emotional reunion scene, (clear only to the audience, not to August and his father.) Then we see both parents lured first to each other, then to August as he breaks free from Wizard, believing in the truth, and bares his soul to the world (or at least New York City). The answer to the story question needs to be revealed, one page (or scene) at a time, gradually, but visible to the reader/viewer until it’s finally answered in the last scene.

Admittedly, August Rush is a feel-good movie, one designed to tug at our heart strings. But it works. Because by the end we, too, have listened and opened our hearts to the call of the music around us, and answered the question . . .

Yes, August, we can hear it.

Susan May Warren is the founder of My Book Therapy, a boutique fiction editing service for writers, and runs A Writer’s Blog. See her Web site to learn more about her award-winning fiction.

27 Tears, er . . . Dresses by Susan May Warren

Please welcome back award-winning author Susan May Warren, to share another installment of her series this month.

Craft Tips and Techniques from Today’s Blockbusters
27 Tears, er . . . Dresses
by Susan May Warren

Instead of one of dress, there’s a flock of look-alike dresses, all fitting (painfully) differently on each attendant . . .

What we can learn from 27 Dresses?

The problem with bridesmaids dresses is that they’re overcute. Especially the ones from the ’80s—you know what I’m talking about. Go to your closet, way in the back where you hid them and take a close look. Puffy sleeves, dropped waists, mermaid curves with one-shoulder straps. And the colors—peach, turquoise, metallic blue. Yes, there wasn’t one woman in the audience of the movie 27 Dresses who didn’t wince just a little when Jane Nichols (Katherine Heigle) opened her overstuffed closet and dragged out her monstrosities.

We vowed, right there in the theater, to run home and take a match to our own closets full of bygone trophies. But the very element that made this movie’s premise sympathetic and even endearing is also the reason this movie doesn’t work. Why it is . . . in a word . . . overcute.

Or, in another word: Sappy.

I really wanted 27 Dresses to be sweetly romantic. I love Katherine Heigl and James Marsden, who plays hero Kevin Doyle. The truth is, it’s not their fault the movie is syrupy, to the point of eye-rolling sappiness.

No, I blame the dresses.

Think about it. A bridesmaid dress is made to accentuate the bride’s dress. But instead of one of them, there’s a flock of look-alike dresses, all fitting (painfully) differently on each attendant. It’s overkill of theme and color. It is, in writer’s terms, overwriting. Overwriting is simply saying the same thing over and over, in different ways, with different words, using different angles . . . you get the picture. Sort of like wedding photos.

27 Dresses is cute and might have worked if it weren’t for the long, “preachy” scene where Jane’s sister, who up until this point not only has been a materialistic ditz, but also hasn’t earned our respect at all, delivers what is supposed to be sage wisdom to our beloved Jane about letting go of things. But Jane already knows this. She’s let go of the man she loves, her hopes and dreams, and even her decency. We get it—she has to live her own life. We don’t need it spelled out for us. First key to staying out of the Sap: Don’t preach it to us.

Remember the day when you looked at the V-necked lime green bridesmaid dress you were to wear, knowing that in it you would look like pasty dough-girl or an anemic whelp? Mine was a burgundy


scooped-back dress that made me look like I’d undergone surgery only hours before. Most of us said, “Okay, I’ll wear it.” The rest of us kept our mouths shut. Because that is what good bridesmaid do. And this is what the movie does.

In a leap that fit the movie plot but not the character, Jane decimates her sister’s rehearsal dinner. Why? Because the formula demanded it. She (like us) could have said, “Hey, I won’t wear that! I would look horrible in that.” Sappy movies don’t listen to the characters, they make them wear the dresses, because it follows the rules. Key two to staying out of the Sap: Stay true to your character.

Finally, have you ever stood, dressed for show, with the bride at the altar, knowing that she and the groom didn’t belong together? That despite his current pledges you were pretty sure he had made a pass at one of the guests the night before at the rehearsal dinner? Or worse, that the bride didn’t love the groom like she did her high school sweetheart, and was headed for disappointment? We want to wave them off, scream, “They don’t belong together!” But because they look so good in their white and black, we smile and hold the flowers.

Why exactly were Jane and Kevin right for each other? Yes, he was a romantic at heart, and she made him see that, but what did he do for her? He mocked her and zeroed in on her issues. Does that show he would care for her? That he would look beyond those issues and love her anyway? And what does knowing him do for her? Just because they were the only two single people in the cast does not mean they belong together. Just because they fit into the dress and the tuxedo doesn’t mean they should be the bride and groom. Final hint to staying out of the Sap: Give the hero and heroine a reason to belong together.

I really wanted to like this movie. I certainly loved the premise. And, I still love Katherine and James. In fact, I’m going to give them another chance . . . as long as no dresses are in the movie.

Susan May Warren is the founder of My Book Therapy, a boutique fiction editing service for writers, and runs A Writer’s Blog. See her Web site to learn more about her award-winning fiction.