Character Names are Part of the Story

Why are there so many men named Max?

Fiction is full of people, and all these characters come to us fully realized with personalities, with flaws and strengths … and with names. Most writers, I think, imagine the names they give their characters should somehow illuminate the person’s personality. The next question is then: How do fiction writers choose the names they give the people in their stories?

For the last six months I have been part of a writer’s group that meets weekly at my local senior center. We are currently eight men and women, all over sixty-five, and most well past that. More than half of the members are working on novels, though a couple of us submit essays and short stories.

Generally, reading the novel chapters submitted on a weekly basis is exciting, though sometimes it can be daunting. To give valid feedback, we must keep the different storylines (plots) and each novel’s roster of characters separated, one from the other.

Recently it has become a challenge to keep all these fictional people straight―three of the novels we are reading have characters named Max. The confusion is aggravated by the similar occupations of two of these Maxs. One is a private investigator and one a criminal attorney. Luckily, the third Max is only a minor figure (so far), a friend of a friend.

Don’t get me wrong. Max is a fine name for a fictional character. In fact, I like the name a lot. Max was my father’s middle name, and it is a strong, simple, masculine moniker. Max is easy to read, and it has a decisive sound when spoken. Because Xs are not common in English given names, the X in Max makes it stand out a bit and hints at something ethnic. In the Character Naming Sourcebook, Max is listed as a name with Latin origins, similar to Maximilian or Maximus, all of which mean “the greatest.”

So, Max is a perfect name for a strong, manly character like a PI or a trial lawyer. It’s just confusing when there are too many Maxes in one’s reading life. I have the same problem in my daily life with the name Michelle. I know four Michelles among my friends and relatives, and when they call or text, I find myself asking, “Which Michelle are you?”

In a novel, a reader can even feel confused when there are too many names that begin with the same letter. If characters are named Max, Michelle, Mable, Morrie, and Molly, it can lead to muddling them together.

This brings us to the question of how writers choose names for their many characters. No doubt, the method varies from writer to writer.

Because I write historical novels that stem from true family stories, I made the decision early on to maintain the actual names of my leading characters. Luckily, most of my relatives have no problem with this as the people themselves are no longer living. I can only hope their names suit the story characters as well as they did the real people during their lives.

Once, a reader who didn’t know my writing is grounded on truth questioned my name choice for an important character.

“Why did you name her Mrs. Lang?” the reader asked. “Why not a more Jewish-sounding name? So, we would know without being told that she is Jewish?”

I could only answer that this was the last name of my grandmother, on whom the character is based. And though Lang (sometimes spelled Lange) doesn’t fit the usual concept of a Jewish name, it is indeed the surname of many German Jews, as well as everyday Germans.

Sometimes even characters derived from actual people can present naming problems. For example, should my father be called Friedel or Fred or both? I chose both to show how immigrants sometimes changed their names intentionally.

The stories of my two historical novels overlap and share many characters. Between writing my first novel and my second, I learned that the common German spelling of my grandmother’s given name was Klara, not the Clara by which I had always known her. I considered changing the spelling of her name in Ashes and Ruins, which was written as a standalone―an independent read from Immigrant Soldier. Perhaps, I thought, a different spelling would emphasize the non-series aspect of the new book. Then, I looked at all the documents I had on my grandmother. Her name was consistently spelled with a C. Finally, I decided I would keep the original spelling. Besides it being the true spelling as I knew it, Clara had the benefit of not causing confusion to readers of the earlier novel.

Sometimes I must create a name for one of my truth-based characters because their real name is lost to memory. My grandmother, Clara, told me she fell in love shortly before she fled Germany, but she never mentioned the man’s name. I wanted him to have a German-Jewish last name and a first name that would suit a gentle and educated man. I settled on the name Albert Fiedler. His given name, Albert, linked him to Queen Victoria’s beloved German-born consort—so a good name for a well-loved man. The last name Fiedler is common throughout Germany. Like the name Lang, it exists as an Ashkenazi Jewish surname as well. Best of all, the meaning of Fiedler is “one who plays the fiddle or violin.” Though Albert does not play the violin like Clara, he does excel at the cello. I admit I love this name for my grandmother’s love interest.

Even after establishing what my main characters are called, there are countless totally fictional minor characters who need names.

There are many ways to discover new names. Some writers check baby name books. Others make lists of interesting names they read in the newspaper or hear on TV. When phone books were an everyday thing, I’m sure authors searched the pages for appropriate names.

For me, the previously mentioned book (Writer’s Digest Character Naming Sourcebook by Sherrilyn Kenyon, Hall Blythe, and Charlie Sweet) is usually my starting point. In lists divided into thirty-six ethnic groups, this resource provides given names (and sometimes surnames) along with their meanings. An index makes it possible to locate names a writer may already have in mind.

From the multitude of names listed, I can choose one that reflects the character’s role or personality. Should she be Gerti or Gertrude? Should he be Thor or Theodore? The answer lies in the mood I want to convey.

I also test the spoken sound of any names I consider. I avoid names that are difficult to pronounce or too similar in tone or spelling to another figure in the same story. As an author, I want to make it easy for my readers. I don’t want the people in my books to become those unpronounceable characters referred to as “mumble/mumble” or “What’s her name.”

Sometimes I name my characters after real people I want to honor or commemorate. For example, in Ashes and Ruins the tailor Mr. Mazur was named after one of my grandmother’s friends, and the girl on the ship in the final chapter is called Eva to honor a young woman of Polish ancestry I know.

In one case, I chose a name as a memorial of sorts. In my short story, The Memory of Smells, the English butcher who still loves his late wife is named Mr. Whitacre, in memory of my own late partner. Each time I reread this story, I feel my loss all over again, just as Peter Whitacre feels the loss of his wife whenever he smells sausage cooking.

As a writer, deciding what to call each member of my latest cast of characters goes well beyond finding names I like. Whether I choose Max or Mohan, Rikka or Rebekah, Hakeem or Hobart, I hope the names I bestow on my characters resonate so that readers remember these fictional people long after the book ends.