What’s in a name? In fiction, the names of characters form the reader’s first introduction to what kind of person they are. Dickensian names like Pecksniff and Chuzzlewit are out of fashion now, but we can still suggest much about a character by what name we choose to give to him or her.
Billy has a boyish feel about it, Billy-Bob is a country boy, Bill is grown up, and William seems more formal. Betty Lou Sue is a whimsical little girl, and Bette Lu Sioux surely has a fascinating ancestry. Kim Robinson invokes one image and Kim Li Park another. Louise Parkinson seems different from Mama Lou.
Names in a story need to be distinctive. If two characters have names that rhyme or start with the same letter, the reader might become confused between them. Only the author is so close to the story that he always can tell Tara apart from Lara and Jason from Jasper.
Another possible source of confusion is calling the same character by different names. Ambassador Howard Jackson might be addressed by his title in some situations, by his first or last name in others, and by a nickname like “Howie” or “Jack” in some others. Members of his family might call him “Dad” or “Honey.” How’s the reader to keep track?
The first time we meet the character, call him by his full name, and title if any. Have the narration consistently call him the same thing, perhaps either his first or last name. Then it’s only the other characters who may confuse us by calling him something else. The narrator’s consistent naming won’t necessarily feel like boring repetition. The reader appreciates the clarity. At the same time, you don’t want sentences close together repeating Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. The pronoun he, and maybe the admiral, will break up the repetition.
Alternative spellings may distract the reader as he or she struggles to pronounce Tawneh or Dafydd. Unless it is crucial to that character’s special traits, just call them Tawny and David. If it is crucial, it’s best to find a way to tell the reader how it is pronounced, early on. Perhaps another character could ask about the spelling and pronunciation.
Like sentences, paragraphs, and chapters, varying the length of names makes it more interesting. Varying the ethnicity of the names adds interest as well. An Abramowitz among the Smiths and Joneses makes it livelier. Broderick and T’Quan will stand out among the Steves and Tonys. Alliterative initials make a name attractive and memorable: Bilbo Baggins, Ratso Rizzo, Bruce Banner, Marmee Marsh.
Minor characters often don’t need names. They can be referred to by their role: the deliveryman, the cook, the officer, the stranger who passed by on the street.
An error some new writers make is to use the characters’ names too much. We do need to know who is present and who is speaking, but once that’s established the names can sometimes be omitted or replaced with a pronoun.
While it’s true that “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” if a writer calls it by its botanical name, Rosa Rosaceae, the reader will get a different feeling from it. Likewise, Rosie O’Grady conjures up a different image than Rosamunde Rockefeller-Smyth, though each is a Rose by another name.
