This has been borrowed from my now-defunct blog, topazadine.com. I hope you enjoy it, here in its new home!

This is an underappreciated but critical point of fiction writing that deserves far more consideration, but many don’t find it as flashy as things like worldbuilding and plotting.

Character names can make or break a story, which is why you should put equal effort into monikers as you do everything else in your story. Let’s dig in.

A Caveat About Cultural Sensitivity

Names are deeply cultural phenomenon; what sounds normal to a European may seem odd to an Asian person and vice versa. Think about the racist snickering around the common Vietnamese surname, Đông, and you can see what I mean.

Languages emerged from different sources and spent much time in development siloed in their respective world regions. As such, it could be racist to say that any one name is “weird” unless it has been generated whole-cloth from your own brain.

For example, X Æ A-Xii. Don’t name your character that, because Elon Musk will sue you.

In this article, I avoid giving examples other than from famous franchises or my own stories, as I don’t want to slander anyone. A name that I consider weird could be perfectly normal elsewhere, and that’s on me – not the author.

Consider the Genre

Simply put, different genres have certain expectations for names. If you threw Tolkien-esque names into a romance novel, it would seem weird; likewise, if all your fantasy characters sound like they could be from a modern comedy, it will destroy the immersion.

There are some ways around this depending on what you want to do. You could have a simple first name and an unusual last name; Paul Atreides is a good example of this.

This decision in Dune has sparked generations of discussion about why Frank Herbert picked the most boring white-person name ever, but it’s so popular because it’s been used for thousands of years, and a huge theme in Dune is what survives long into the future and what is left in the past.

It’s pretty easy to ensure you’re matching genre expectations: just read widely in your chosen niche. Don’t copy names, of course, but check that they have the same vibe as yours.

The Main Character Should Have the Simplest Name

You can go wild with background characters, but by and large, your main character should have a unique but easy-to-pronounce name. This is the face of your book, the one that readers will remember long after they’ve forgotten about all the side characters.

I can’t give you any hard and fast rules about how long your MC’s name should be, but I’d suggest two syllables.

You can stretch that to three if it’s something well-known like Cameron: a name I’m partial to for obvious reasons. If you name your character Cameron, I’ll read your book for sure.

Take Frodo, for example. Frodo works great because it’s short, but it’s also pretty unique. Similarly, Sherlock is only two syllables and, thus, easy to remember; however, though it is an old British name, it’s uncommon (and was in Arthur Conan Doyle’s time too).

Side characters can have more unusual and difficult names if you choose, as they aren’t as important and don’t need to be quite as memorable. Their significance is in their relationship to the MC and when they appear, they’ll be remembered as “MC’s enemy” or “MC’s assistant” or whatever.

My MC Cerie’s brother is named Uileac, which is an Irish name meaning “brave protector;” appropriate, given that he’s her big brother and basically raised her. It’s a tougher name to remember, but when readers see “Ui,” which is a very uncommon syllable, they’re going to go “oh that’s MC’s brother,” and then continue without thinking about it.

This brings me to my next point, which is perhaps my favorite.

Use Older Names as Building Blocks

I did not actually create Cerie’s name: it’s an old Gaelic name which means “a delicate bird’s whistle.” Not only do I love the meaning and use birds as symbols throughout the book, but it’s unique and easy to remember, being only two syllables.

That otherwordly vibe definitely works well for fantasy; it’d sound weird in a romance novel or spy thriller, but sounds fine in a second world despite its real-world roots. Cerie also fits the character well: she’s quiet, physically weak, but, like most birds, fiercely protective of what she loves.

She also collects things like a crow, but in her case, it’s trauma. Loving your shiny hoard, girlie!

There are so many fascinating names hidden in the depths of history from cultures all across the world, and while some are difficult, many are quite elegant and would make amazing monikers for your character.

Avoid Similar-Sounding Names as Much as Possible

I recently beta read a book that had way too many background characters, many of which had almost identical names: think Devin versus Derick.

Why are these too similar? They both start with “De” and have an i in the second syllable. While you could easily differentiate between a Devin and a Derick in a friend group because you physically see them or interact with them on a regular basis, your reader has to create a mental image of all your characters.

Unless you give excruciating detail as to how they’re different and their personalities are very well established, readers are going to be like “wait, Derick is MC’s boyfriend? I thought that was Devin?”

Your reader doesn’t spend as much time with your characters as you do (nor do they care as much about them), so you need to make it as easy for them as possible to remember everyone. While you’ve agonzied over every word, your readers are looking for simplicity and start to gloss over when they see familiar names, which is why the first syllable is critical.

A good trick is to have every main character have a name that starts with a different syllable.

If two characters have names that start with the same letter, they shouldn’t interact on a regular basis, and their names should be different lengths.

For example, I have two characters named Ono and Orrinir. Not only do their names have a different length and a different starting syllable, but I make sure that they are seen in entirely separate contexts until the end of the book, when they have been established enough that the reader will hopefully be able to tell who is who.

This goes for place names, too. In my first draft, I had Cerie staying at a town named Ciele. They’re the exact same length and start with the same letter, so it’s too close. I changed the name of the town to Cachaille, which is a different length and starts with a different syllable.

…. And Don’t Use Edgy Names

Younger writers especially want to make their character sound like a badass by using things like Thunderblood or something, but this can backfire and become super cringey.

A character’s actions should make them a badass, not just their name.

Giving them a tough manly moniker can, paradoxically, make them a weaker character, because you assume that the reader will infer that they’re strong and don’t put as much effort into establishing their personality.

Think about James Bond or John Wick. Those names, in any other context, would be boring as hell; they’re almost too simple. But it is their actions that make them badasses, in contrast to their plain names. People think of “John Wick” and immediately think of Keanu Reeves killing someone with a pencil, but if they didn’t know who he was, they’d think he was an accountant or something. That’s good characterization!

In some circumstances, though, it can be fun to take one of these crazy names and give it to a weak character as a bit of irony. For example, think of Stormageddon from Doctor Who, is a literal baby. Come on, that’s funny as hell. If you’re writing a satire of a genre, then do go ahead, but if you’re playing it straight, beware.

If you want your character to have a tough name, look at the meaning or history of it, not the actual name itself. Angus, for example, has developed an image of being a tough, meaty character. This Celtic name means “one strength,” which is great, but the reason it’s become associated with meatiness is … Angus beef.

Again, subverting expectations can be fun here, too. Naming a weak, pathetic character Angus would be interesting, a reminder that our names do not necessarily determine who we are.

Every Character Name Has a Purpose

And no, that purpose is not usually just “it sounded cool.” Unless you are writing OC fanfic for fun, then you always need to think about the reader and how they will interact with your text.

You might consider workshopping your names with other people; after all, writers often get way into their own heads and don’t realize how their words come across to anyone else (guilty as charged).

Have other people say the name and ask them what they think about it: what it represents to them, how easy it is to remember, whether it fits the character. They may offer suggestions that you didn’t consider, or they might constantly trip over a certain name, which shows you that you need to change it.

Changing a name isn’t the end of the world and, while your MC’s name should be the most significant to you (and your readers), other characters and locations might go through a few transformations as you go along. Maybe you introduce a new location and realize that another one is too similar, or maybe you decide that a name you thought fitted the character doesn’t. That’s the joy of writing: it’s a wide open world.