Playwrights: how do you go about choosing the names of your characters?
Ever since my wife and I had the humbling honor of naming our son, I’ve been re-examining the way I choose names for my characters. What I realized was that I had been approaching the problem, for some reason, literarily: looking for names that, in their etymological roots, suggested traits I wanted my characters to embody. How silly is that? It seems silly, anyway.
But what alternatives are there?
Try as I might, I haven’t been able to come up with a new… well, a new philosophy, let’s call it, for how to choose names. I started, for a while, trying to just choose names that “felt right,” but that method was too wishy-washy for me. I thought that perhaps I ought to choose names that would carry the cultural associations I might want them to carry for my audiences… but that’s an impossible task, really, given that we don’t all respond to, say, Wilhelmina or Enrique or Thomas in the same ways. After a while, I thought that perhaps I ought to choose names that sounded beautiful, or even just names I could listen to over and over again, like Julian Beaumarchais or Blackie Rupp or Frances Teague, but I really believe that a character’s name ought not call too much attention to itself. On the other hand… ordinary names that disappear into irrelevance just bore me.
I am clearly at sea.
My only consolation is that, having named my son (and, I should add, two cats), I have come to understand that no matter WHAT name I pick, those who use it will almost immediately find it expected, natural, normal, perfectly reasonable.
And yet: I want them to be more than that. I want them to sing, to pronounce their brilliance, to elevate the play.
Am I asking too much?
I don’t think picking names by feel is wishy-washy at all. I totally name characters in a kind of synesthetic way: they feel right/taste right. Sometimes the names I choose end up helping determine that character’s history/personality. For ex: I named a character “Deacon” because I heard the name, I liked it, it seemed to fit the character. And because of that choice, the character eventually ended up with a minister father. Because who else (other than a writer) will name a kid “Deacon.”
I think there’s a difference (for me) between wishy-washy and intuitive. What you’ve described here sounds like the latter to me. And it actually sounds a bit like the way I work, in practice, too. I suppose my worry about “wishy-washy-ness” (which is now a terrible word, I apologize) is that I want to commit (for some reason) to a standard approach to names… and perhaps that’s just not possible, or even warranted.
Weird as it sounds, character names seem to flow out of my fingertips as I start to type. I have no idea of the name — just my idea of story — then I type Fred and Ethel. And, there they are. One of my dearest friends told me to name my main character Francesca in my first full-length. I did and it never seemed right — the character never seemed right. I kept her name as long as I was in LA because my friend came to every reading! The play needs a reboot now and the first thing I will do is rename her. I should call her Gwydie! 🙂
LOL
Just remember, that was your idea, not mine!
I think the moral of the story there is never to take writing advice from friends. 🙂
Picking names for me are a big deal. I think this stems from my own personal experience–people have a hard time saying my name and growing up teachers and classmates were always butchering it. Also, my mother fought for our names, for them not to be shortened into nicknames that were easier to say. So with my characters I do a combo of “feel” and meaning, but feel can trump meaning. I tend to look for less common names. And often I just “know” when I’ve found it. Last time I had to hunt for name was when I was trying to name the second half of a couple, that entailed also figuring out of if the names of the couple sounded “right.”
I also think the names can tend to cement themselves, or feel more right, as the character develops.
Oh, and I have a name bank. My own, a list I have of names I like, and then a baby name database I surf to look at names. I love the names of my characters (I sound like a proud mom). Can I brag? Say hello to:
Alma, Soraya, Lalo, Moises, Dalila, Miqueo, Amara, Fatima, Eulalia, Socorro, Araceli, Paola, Eugenio, Belmira, Duarte, Yelena, Javier, Carmen, Jared, Carlos, Yadria, and Señor Fillmore.
As you might imagine, I share some of your feelings about names, though I’m sure my experience is different than yours.
You know what I love? I love reading the list of your character names. I want to meet those people! For some reason, Eulalia and Belmira enchant me immediately.
In exchange, I would like to introduce you to:
Mitchell, Peter, David, Aaron, Lily, X, The Playwright, The Stagehand, Max, Christine, Lola, Hank, Mark, Genevieve, Edward, Buggy, Tyler, Man, Woman, Boss, Tour Guide, Adam, Sheila, Hedge, Harry, Belle, Mina, Jack, Laney, Sensei, Girl, Faruq, Henry, Mother Manda, Tess, Albert, Frankie, Elijah, Marcus, and Mary.
It’s amazing how a name makes a character more three dimensional for me. Belmira is an enchantress, that’s her fatal flaw (cue ominous music) and Eulalia was a name I picked up from real life, I knew an Eulalia in college and always remembered the name. Same goes with Dalila, knew a gal by that name as well.
I like your Lola. It’s just a great name.
She’s one of my favorite characters. Her and Elijah probably top my list. 🙂
I think that though you have to pay attention to social & historical baggage with names (naming your hero Adolph might be problematic), I often like picking names based on the personal baggage that I have with them. If I once had a crush on a girl named Eloise who never returned my feelings, I’d be wise to name an object of desire in a play Eloise as well. Even though that name may mean nothing to everyone who sees the play, the historical wistfulness I feel for that name will, I think, bleed over and color the way I write for and about Eloise. I find that when I do that, it acts as a reminder for me as I write the play of all the ideas and emotions I want to express with this character, even emotions and ideas I can only feel and not actually explain, and makes for a better character because of it.
That’s fascinating — a clever way to imbue characters with emotional resonance for you. But what if Eloise finds out? 🙂
Wait, do you think Eloise reads my plays? Do you think I still have a chance??
I thought you married Eloise!