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.
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.
