When choosing names for characters, writers have a variety of tools available to help. We can scour baby name sites, baby names books, and even name generators specific to our genre. It reminds me of when you are expecting a child and trying to pick out the right name. You pour over possible names looking for something you like that meets your preferences. I tried to pick out names that were different but not hard to pronounce, and when the baby arrived they were given that name. I looked into that little scrunched face wondering if it was the right name. As the child grew, the “unique” name I’d chosen turned out to be a trending name. In a short amount of time, I didn’t give it a second thought even thought every third child seemed to have the same name. The name fit.
In the writing creation process, names aren’t set in stone. The name you choose often evolves with the character. That’s what happened as I wrote, The Inheritance. With an allegory, name choices are trickier. For in an allegory, you have a story within a story. The names often become part of the story. On the surface, The Inheritance is a fantasy about a young man on a quest. But the story within the story is about how to get to heaven (the eternal city).
Finding the right name
During the early writing of, The Inheritance, my main character started out with the name, Bother. Why? Because he was bothered by the emptiness of life. He hungered for something more and questioned things people believed that did agree. Nothing seemed to fill the underlying longing in his life.
Since he started with the name, Bother, I thought I
might change his name from Bother to Brother once he met Truth, who gives him a new
life and provides the way to the Eternal City. Clever, right? But in the back
of my mind, I heard Winnie the Pooh say, “Oh, bother.” It became a distraction.
So since this was the main character, I decided to look for a word I could use
that sounded more like a name. I tried various words, and came across the adjective
jejune. Dictionaries offered several definitions, including:
- without interest or significance; dull; insipid
- juvenile; immature; childish
- lacking knowledge or experience; uninformed
- deficient or lacking in nutritive value
My character lacked knowledge and experience. He was uninformed. The name fit. He was ready to set out on his quest to learn what he needed to know.
I offer the following excerpt from The Inheritance. Within it, you'll see Jejune and his sidekick, Wigglewot. I'll talk about that name in another post in the near future. Enjoy!
Excerpt for the Inheritance Chapter 1
The young Seeker, Jejune, squirmed on the bench before the three-man council. Pundit Tenacious' reprimand echoed within the limestone chamber. Dark smoky tendrils painted sooty trails that skittered and climbed uneven walls while Jejune searched for what to say.
Black hollows marked Pundit Tenacious' deep-set eyes in the dim torchlight. Shadows oscillated across the other two council figures, embroiled in muted discussion.
Jejune swiped the sandy brown curls matted to his forehead. "But, sir, the philosophies of Lofty Thought breed more questions than answers." He fidgeted. The stuffy chamber closed in around him. Perspiration trickled from his hairline.
Tenacious slammed the tip of his elaborate walking stick into the hard-packed earthen floor one more time. "Enough! No more discussion." The older man leaned forward on his walking stick, stopping inches from Jejune's face, and lowered his voice. "The highest ethical good is the same for everyone." The council members nodded.
Wigglewot, Jejune's tiny winged companion, let out a soft whistle, fluttered to Jejune's shoulder, and leaned to his ear. "What is he talking about?"
Timing bells chimed, indicating the conclusion of the session.
"Finally!" Wigglewot flew toward the exit. "Hurry, Jejune. Let's get out of here."
Jejune stood, bowed his head before the council, turned on his heel, and rushed to the door.
"Highest ethical good." He mimicked the pundit's nasal tone.
Wigglewot chuckled. The two hurried along the torch-lined tunnel toward the exit. "Uh-oh. Trouble ahead."
Three silhouettes eclipsed daylight at the passageway's end. Jejune skidded to a stop. Even in the dim light, billowing robe sleeves warned that pundit trouble blocked his way.
Wigglewot shimmied next to Jejune's ear and whispered. "Politely say 'hello,' but keep walking. Let's get out of here."
Sunlight leaked into the corridor behind the shifting figures. Jejune drew in a deep breath and sauntered to the exit with a carefree strut. He fiddled with the medallion hanging from his neck and forced a smile.
The polished surface of Pundit Tenacious' walking stick gleamed among the three bodies blocking the corridor. Jejune's smile faded. He cast a fleeting look over his shoulder toward the Reckoning Chamber. How did they get from there to here? Feeling trapped, he back pedaled a few steps. What should I do? His back pressed against the cool limestone. In his heart he longed to become one with the stone wall and disappear. Tenacious marched toward him followed by Punctilious. Why did Jejune feel such dread? They weren't much taller than him. Pundit Arcane pushed between Tenacious and Punctilious and grabbed Jejune's upper arm. Thick bands of silver and gold shimmered on the belled cuff of the pundit's sleeve.
"If you persist in your ways, you may be forced to leave the village." A vein bulged between Arcane's brows.
Jejune clenched his jaw. If I say anything, I'd only make matters worse.
The older man's grip tightened. "Your disruptive ways squelch the flow of debates." He shoved Jejune toward the wall as he released his hold.
Jejune licked his dry lips and glanced from one stern face to another, still wondering how they left the Reckoning Chamber after him, yet now stood, blocking his way. "I don't understand, sirs. I mean no trouble."
They surrounded him like a pack of wild dogs circling a brush rabbit. Spine pressed to the wall, Jejune waited. Pundit Punctilious' hard-soled sandals clicked against the stone floor. He paced; his hands folded at the small of his back.
"You are surely as your mother before you, talking of this--this one truth. We choose our way without the aid of such universal standards." He twisted, positioning his face inches from Jejune's. "You are not above our ways." He pawed Jejune's medallion and eyed it intently. His bushy gray eyebrows arched as if yanked by a string.
Jejune turned from the stench of the older man's breath.
Punctilious' complexion darkened from red to purple. "Saying one comes from a royal line does not make it so." He flung the medallion against Jejune's chest.
Unexpected anger boiled in the pit of his stomach. His hands balled into fists. Punctilious talks in riddles and recalls details of my mother that I long to know. It's not fair.
