How Not to Name Your Characters

Awful character names are everywhere. Avoid the crime so you don’t have to do the time.

Naming your characters can be a pain in the butt. You want your readers to be able to tell them apart, of course, but you also try to convey some sense of identity, some element of their personality, through their name. The same image certainly doesn’t come to mind when you hear Beulah or Anastasia, does it? What about Count Dracul versus Muffy?

Just like a person’s name, a character’s name can influence how others see them, even shape their destiny. So when you’re brainstorming. here are a couple of pitfalls you might want to avoid:

Double-letter dullness

We were all raised on Sammy the Snake and Wanda the Witch (Sesame Street kids know what I’m talking about). It’s tempting to use alliteration, especially when naming animals or characters in children’s books. But Barry the Badger and Barnabas the Billy Goat becomes boring.

Lazy characterisation

Lewis Carrol and Charles Dickens were great at conveying the physical and personal characteristics of their people using their names, but in a modern setting it seems lazy. You can name a character Nicholas One-Eye to comic or ironic effect, but otherwise . . . really?

Janet and Jane

For the sake of my eyes and my tired, confused brain, please don’t give two characters such similar names that I wind up getting their plotlines and character arcs confused. Was Alice the bank robber or Alison?

Alphabet soup

Does your character’s name really have to have five consonants in a row? Unless she’s Welsh, I’d guess not. I know it’s all the rage to come up with fancy names, with unusual spellings and a half-dozen punctuation marks thrown in, but most of us hear a voice in our head as we read. So the next time you make me stumble over a character named Vercingetorix Llewellyn Berggren, I’m going to throw the book at you.

Twisted timelines

I’m sure there are kids running around these days named Beyoncé or Daenerys. But remember the time frame your story is set in. Please don’t inflict them on a kid born in behind enemy lines in WWII. Many names are peculiar to their timelines. Probably why there’s nobody out there under 75 named Mildred.

Tripping on their roots

Kunta Kinta resisted being called Toby until they beat it out of him. Why? Because his name was part of his self image. It was one of the last things he could hold on to from his motherland. It helped remind him of who he was.

Names are our identity, often entrenched in our ethnic roots, our gender, our homeland and our parents’ dreams for us. You character’s names should reflect who they are . . . without descending into insulting cliché, of course.

As always, it’s your book and you can name your characters anything you want. You can name your guy Phineas J. Finklebottom. You can call your heroine A. You can break any of these guidelines to achieve the effect you want. Many great authors have done it.

But I’m just sayin’ . . . .

What’s the best or worst character name you’ve ever seen? Tell us in the comments.

Messing With Space and Time

I wish I could slip through a crack in time, too.

Wally Roux, Quantum Mechanic

Written by Nick Carr, performed by William Jackson Harper

All I can say is . . . awwwww. I fell in love with this young man from the opening lines. He was so sweet, so smart, so self-assured and so gauche at the same time. He reminded me of my son. I just wanted to bake him cookies and give him a hug.

Wally is a young man who moves to Savannah, Georgia with his adoptive mother, only to discover that a quantum vandal has been messing with the fabric of time, space, and whatever else. Chaos theory, string theory, who knows? I’m not a quantum genius like he is.

But instead of freaking out, he decides to rip a hole in the fabric of time/space, crawl in and fix the problem. In doing so, he discovers more about himself and who he is in the world . . .  and all the other infinite worlds out there. So sad this Audible recording is only about two hours long. I was begging for more.

Wally left me with an ache in my heart than only a sequel can fill.

Pairing

Today I’m going to team up Wally Roux, Quantum Mechanic with this pair of Red Kap Men’s Zip-Front Cotton Coverall, because Wally’s so aware that any moment he might have to crawl into messy time to fix it that he wears them every day. Good on you, Wally.

And this cool transparent backpack, so next time racists want to accuse him of shoplifting they can shut the hell up.

(Please note that as an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

Comments? Questions? Leave ‘em below.

Well, Do We Taste Like Chicken?

So that “tastes like pork” story was a rumour?

Fat Vampire 2: Tastes Like Chicken by Johnny B. Truant

Once again, Truant’s excellent chapter-naming skills come into play. For instance, Chapter 1 is called “Cold Prick”.

Doesn’t get any more attention-grabbing than that! By now, Reginald is getting used to being a vampire, and trying to overcome that lingering feeling of being grossed out by the idea of clamping his mouth down on someone else’s neck just to have a meal.

We all know that when you get changed, you stay the way you are for all of eternity—unless you get roasted by the sun or staked, of course. So Reginald (don’t call him Reggie) is fat—very, very fat—for good. And while his vampire powers do little for his skill, speed or strength, he has discovered that his brain is hopped up to vamp-speed. He’s now the most intelligent vampire in the world.

And he has a girlfriend who wants him to change her.

Pairing

Fat Vampire 2: Tastes Like Chicken pairs well with . . .

50 Ways to Eat Cock: Healthy Chicken Recipes with Balls! Apart from the fact that that’s the best cookbook title I’ve ever heard, cooking chicken for Reginald will hopefully keep us off the menu!

This cool XTERRA treadmill, like the ones poor Reginald is being forced to run on for hours by a malicious shape-shifting incubus. Which does him no good because, yup, vampires can’t lose weight.

Wanna talk about it? Please leave a comment below.

Eschew Obfuscation*

*Try not to confuse anyone

Poster stuck to wall. It says Rodent Control Device.

One of my father’s favourite bits of advice was “eschew obfuscation”, which, of course, was obfuscating in its own right.

I happened across this sign recently. Rodent Control Device, it said. Not Rat Trap. And yes, it does go on to list a number of devices that they might be using, but it did make me chuckle.

It got me to thinking of how many times documents cross my desk swollen with $20 words when a couple of 15-cent words would do just fine. The urge to show off your vocabulary is almost irresistible, that’s for sure. Just listen to our politicians speak.

But when we write, we write to be understood, not to impress others with the fabulousness of our expansive and sagacious verbosity. At least, I hope not! We write to communicate.

So keep it simple. Ask yourself, what’s the easiest way I can put this? How do I get my reader to understand what I want to say without reaching for a dictionary? Do I really need to construct elaborate sentences with multiple subordinate clauses? How long do those paragraphs have to be? Is there a new law against white space? And unless you’re being paid by the word—well, even if you’re being paid by the word—try to curb your enthusiasm. I know a blank page can be daunting, and anxiety propels us to fill it, but it’s better it be half-filled with something of value than full of sound and fury, signifying . . . well, you know.

One tool I find useful is the Flesch Reading Ease and Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level tool in Word. You’ll find it under File – Options – Proofing. It helps you check the readability of what you’ve written using a sophisticated algorithm and gives you the relevant scores.

The Flesch-Kincaid score corresponds to the reading age or US grade level a person would need to read your piece. The Flesch score tells you the percentage of people who you can expect to easily read it. You want to keep your piece at around Grade 8, or age 14 or so, and around 60% or more, or you’ll start losing us as readers. The tool also gives you helpful info like number of words per sentence, sentences per paragraph, and the percentage of passive sentences.

What it boils down to is this: Use shorter words in shorter sentences. Obfuscation represents a lack of self-control . . . or an over-abundance of vanity. Neither is a good thing. Learn to throttle yourself back—and call a rat trap a rat trap

For more about the Flesch and Flesch-Kincaid scales, check out these websites here and here.

Excited to hear your point of view. Please leave a comment below.

Whoever Heard of a Fat Vampire?

Down with sparkly vamps!

So it seems vampires can eat food!

Fat Vampire by Johnny B. Truant

Serendipity is a funny thing. I stumbled across Fat Vampire while playing an online game called Judgey. With all the buff, sparkly vampires running around I thought the idea of an obese vampire would be awesome.

I was right. From Chapter 1 (intriguingly entitled “Asshole”) I was hooked. A 350-pound treadmill salesman is stuck in his miserable, tedious life, being tortured by the office bully, self-comforting with pizza and donuts . . . until he’s turned by the weird Goth kid in the office who happens to be a vampire.

It was short, funny, and fascinating. I loved it so much I clicked on Fat Vampire 2 the second I finished the first one.

Pairing

Fat Vampire pairs well with this gorgeous handmade Samurai sword, in honour of the sword the vampire Maurice keeps hanging from his belt.

As well as a 40-pack of Cheetos, because they lied to you when they said vampires can’t eat human food. They can: they just can’t digest it. Happy, happy Reginald. He can feed his food fetish and not gain a pound.

(Please note that as an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

The Unconscious Sexism of Words

Sometimes what’s deeply buried in our minds pops to the surface like the skeletons on Poltergeist.

I was cleaning the litterbox the other day while our kitten sat nearby and supervised. It was, shall we say, a messy job. “Oh my God, Captain Poopypants!” I exclaimed as I filled my scoop. (No, her name isn’t Poopypants, and no, she wasn’t in the least bit ashamed of herself.) Immediately, a thought popped into my mind: But I can’t call her ‘Captain’; she’s a girl!

And then I punched myself in the face.

We all love to say we’re not sexist, but sometimes our unconscious biases spill out in our writing. This was a classic example; me for a second wondering how a female could be captain of anything. Duh.

Here are a few other ways in which our words betray our non-conscious sex and gender biases:

  • Calling women ‘girls’, especially if they work for you or perform lower-paying jobs like housekeeping or secretarial work. “I’ll have my girl call your girl”. Um . . . your ‘girl’ is 42 and has grown kids . . . .
  • Using a woman’s first name while referring to men by their last. “John Donovan, Miguel Santos, and Charlene were at the meeting.” Surely you mean ‘Ms. Thornhill’!
  • Referring to women as ‘females’. “What are all these females so upset about?” ‘Female’ is a biological term. Outside of medical or scientific situations regarding humans, the term is usually applied to animals. Who wants to be defined by their sex organs and chromosomes?
  • ‘Lady doctor’ and ‘male nurse’. We often make assumptions about the sex of a person in certain professions, so we feel we have to loudly announce when that person doesn’t belong to the gender we expect. How terribly 80s of us. How ‘bout we stop?
  • “Professor’s Wife Murdered”. I’ll never forget that newspaper headline; it actually caused quite an outcry from women’s groups. With all this woman must have achieved in her life, and the tragedy that she’d lost it, why was she reduced to the context of her relationship with a man? Why not “Science Teacher Murdered”? Why not “Runner-up in Art Competition Murdered”? She was more than a wife, no?

I’m not a huge advocate of completely unsexing the English language, and don’t care for newly created terms that disguise or eliminate gender altogether, but I do think we should keep our radar on when we write. The relationship between the genders is already fraught with tension. Why add to it?

Can you think of any more examples? Put them in the comments and let’s talk.

‘Or’ vs ‘And’

What’s the diff?

Poster on wall saying "No eating and drinking".

I spotted this poster on a wall at the mall and just had to take a photo. It’s a common mistake; you see it everywhere. No eating and drinking. The ticklish bit here is the ‘and’. Do they mean that you aren’t allowed to do both in their store at the same time? That if you’re eating and not drinking, it’s okay, or if you’re drinking but not eating, it’s fine, just don’t do both?

Sometimes you even see: No smoking, eating and drinking.  No cell phones and cameras. No vending and soliciting.

I know everyone understands what the sign says. I know I’m being a bit nit-picky, but I am what I am. Up to me, I’d use ‘or’, so it’s clear that none of these activities is acceptable. Even if you’re only doing one of them.

I’ve done my part. Now it’s your turn. Leave a comment below.

Roots from the Cotton Tree

Cover photo of Roots from the Cotton Tree. Surreal drawing of  woman's face intertwined with tree roots.

Congrats to one of my writing coaching/editing clients in the UK, Nicola Brooks-Williamson, on the publication of her novel, Roots from the Cotton Tree, now available on Amazon Kindle.

It’s a beautifully written fantasy novel about a young woman who begins to realise she’s different, and who embarks upon a journey to the West Indies to seek out her roots . . . and soon realises she comes from a long line of supernatural beings who reside in the realm of West Indian mythology.

The fantasy element took me right back to my myth-loving childhood, but at the same time, the main character, Sarah, was solid, interesting and real. Good job, Nicola!

Read about other client successes here.

I’ve done my part. Now it’s your turn. Leave a comment below.

Only Having Fun

Red and white poster with the words Dispose of Toilet Tissue Only in the Toilet.

I love the word ‘only’. You can have so much fun with it, depending on where you place it in a sentence. Take this poster.

Think about how the sentence would change if you moved the word ‘only’ around. For example:

 

  • Only dispose of toilet tissue in the toilet: are they using it for something else?
  • Dispose of only toilet tissue in the toilet: are they putting other stuff in there?
  • Dispose of toilet tissue in the toilet only: are they putting it somewhere else?

You can get yourself in a pickle if you don’t use ‘only’ right. Think of how it would affect your relationship if you used it like this: Only I love you. I only love you. I love only you. I love you only.

Think of how your relationship could turn out with these different declarations:

  • Only I love you.
  • I only love you.
  • I love only you.
  • I love you only.

If you love words and have nothing better to do, you can have a lot of fun.

Please comment below and let us know what you think.

Young Me

It’s like staring down a time tunnel.

I made that suit myself, by the way!

My first (and only) book tour: a 10-city tour to promote A Thirst For Rain. In 1999, I think. (Insert Prince song clip here.) Man I was young. And now, looking back on my career and life, it’s interesting to reflect on what Young Roslyn thought about herself. Especially the part about whether or not to have kids! (I have two teens now.)

Wait! You aren’t leaving without leaving a comment, are you?