A Character by Any Other Name…

K. M. Weiland is the first author/educator I encountered in my journey to geeking out about story structure, and I still read or listen to most of what she puts out there. Today in my inbox I found her response to a reader question about character names, and it got me thinking…

For someone as structure-oriented as I am about most things, I take a very nebulous and intuitive approach to character names. I peruse baby name website for particular nationalities and time periods, but mostly I tend to go with what “feels” right. Do I have any conscious idea why my grumpy old man is named Geralt instead of Gerald or Clarence or something else? (And did he already have this name before Geralt of Rivia became a Thing that everyone knew about because Henry Cavill?) (The answers to these two questions are no and yes, respectively.)

Most of my characters have, through the various drafts, retained the names they had when they first popped up on the page—but until today I did not think particularly hard about why their names were what they were, and to what extent they form the character. Rina Montalto, the bohemian ceramic artist. Diana Wallace, the former attorney turned pastry chef and antique dealer, and her daughter Mac with the purple hair and tattoos. Catherine Ross, the librarian. Joel Drummond, the financial and legal manager of the Cameron holdings. Bella Scott and Nick Tyler, the island law enforcement officers—along with Jake Dudek, the rookie who was essentially cut from later drafts of the book; I think at this point even his name is gone, though I know what it is.*

Some characters underwent name-changes along the way, usually with very practical reasons. The black-bonneted knitting sisters began their on-the-page life as Irene and Eleanor O’Connell, and they were initially modeled after actual people: the Misses O’Connell, as we all called them, who practically ran the first parish I worked at (don’t tell the pastor, but we all knew it was true). Irene was unfiltered and blunt and ran the finances with a skilled but iron hand; Eleanor was a little softer, but smart as a whip, and you didn’t mess with her either. They were two of my favorite humans and I knew from the start that they would be the models for these characters, and in the early drafts, they were there on the page clear as day.

Then one day I ran up against the piece of writing wisdom that says thou shalt not have too many characters whose names start with the same letter, lest thou confuse thy readers. My protagonist at the time was named Ellen; Miss Effie Cameron, the matriarch of Cameron House, just felt like she had the right name. Even I had to acknowledge that Eleanor and Irene (not an E but another vowel) took it way over the top.

Thus the Misses became Dorothy and Delphine Drummond—Dellie and Dot for short.

Interestingly, with the name change, their characters changed a little; Dellie and Dot don’t quite match the real Irene and Eleanor the way the earlier drafts did, and even their faces in my mind’s eye have shifted.

Then there was Ellen Stone, my protagonist—another E name. She was exactly like her name makes her sound: pragmatic, unobtrusive, old-fashioned, and a little stiff. I rarely give detailed physical descriptions of my characters, but in my head she was of about average height, with dark red wavy hair that tended to frizz, a broad forehead, and a slightly squared jaw.

But…again, it was a name starting with E. And if Effie was not going to give up her name, then it was probably a good idea for Ellen to find a new one.

It took weeks. I wrote scenes, wrote sketches, trying on name after name like swimsuits under fitting room fluorescent lights, with about as much enjoyment as that time-dishonored task evokes. At last, out of some mysterious place in the ether, I settled on Willow. Willow Stone. And something remarkable happened.

In hindsight, it makes perfect sense why this name works for this particular character: this protagonist is all about figuring out who she is; she is young, blindly learning how to navigate that space between flexibility for the needs of others and finding her own place to stand firm. When I look at the name “Ellen Stone,” I see very little ambiguity; first and last names both imply practicality and solidity. But Willow Stone—here are the fluid, waving branches of my favorite tree, paired with the granite-solidity of island bedrock, combined in the same person. Willow trees, especially the weeping kind, have a sense of melancholy woven into their very identity, as this character does. And giving her two names from the natural world links her even more to the beautiful environment of the Maine islands where she comes to find her true self. (Spoiler alert, I guess. But it should surprise no one.)

At the time of the change, I wasn’t thinking about symbolism, name meaning, or paradoxically blending differing characteristics in the same person’s name; it came with a mental shrug—let’s try “Willow” for a while. I dragged myself back to the beginning again and started my third draft (I desperately hope that by my second or third novel I won’t be doing page one rewrites multiple times per project), with a slimmed-down story and a clearer sense of theme and direction, and suddenly this wonderful human came to life on the page. Willow is much more complicated than Ellen had ever been, more rooted, more insightful. She retains Ellen’s insecurity, but like the tree for which she was named, she holds within her a sense of motion and flexibility, a quiet wisdom that runs deeper than Ellen’s. She looks different, too: Willow is about 5’4” with long dark hair that she wears in a braid over her shoulder, and a narrow, almost pointed nose. She’s smaller, with narrower shoulders and face, and by physicality alone she can be unobtrusive in a group in a way that Ellen could not. But more than that, she is quieter, with rounder edges; she is more apt to cry at something beautiful, or explode when she is angry. And, no offense to Ellen…I think she is more interesting.

The original question in K.M.’s post asked her opinion on the importance of assigning characters names with meanings. My opinion? I think the names are going to have meaning whether we consciously assign it or not.

And I suspect Miss Effie would agree. ;-)

*** 

*I was sad to let go of Jake’s more interesting role in this book, but I’m sure he’ll pop up with some interesting stuff to do later. Bella too—she is wise and brilliant and takes no crap from anyone; her role was scaled way back in the later and simpler drafts of the book, but I definitely want to give her quality air time moving forward.