I've gone on ad nauseum here about names: Whether a title makes a difference; whether a pseudonym is a form of hypocrisy; whether it would have been better had Dan Brown named his book Opus Dei and the Knights.
But getting older (not old, not yet, mind you) makes a person think about the past and the future. And the older you get, the more past you have to think about. Specifically, lately I've flashed on a thought I had as a child, that my name was the very thing an action hero would need. Jeff. Now, that was a real tough guy name.
It's amazing what you can convince yourself when you're eight.
Since then, I have seen countless characters in films, books and television named "Jeff," and each one has been either wimpy, dull, or, worse, when named "Jeffrey" (or, god forbid, "Geoffrey"), stiff and devoid of humor or life.
I like to think I'm none of those things. Except maybe wimpy. I gave up the idea of being an action hero around the time I realized I was shorter than roughly ninety six percent of the population. We'll talk about the fallacies going around about short people another week. Remind me. I also realized I'm roughly as brave as the average bunny rabbit, and more capable of neutralizing the bad guy with a sarcastic remark than with a right cross. I've made my peace with it.
It is also perhaps worth noting that two of the greatest movie stars of all time were named "Clark" and "Humphrey." So what does a name do for you?
When I name characters--by far my least favorite part of the creative process--I think of an attitude first. What kind of person is this going to be. But you have to wonder whether that's a true reflection of life. I remarked to my son the other day that Steve Buscemi does not look like a "Steve" to me, and he pointed out quite accurately that "his parents didn't know what he'd look like when they named him."
So is it a cheat to name a character Agnes Crimball if you want her to be a prude and a nag? Dirk McClan if you want him to be fearless and virile? Billy for a naif? Horace for a stiff? Britney for... well, you get the idea.
After reading my first screenplay (an effort I have spent decades attempting to blot from memory), someone told me years ago that in the history of films, the name most often given to the villain is "Lassiter." The only real-life Lassiter I know is a teacher at my children's high school, and he seems like a very nice guy. Perhaps that means something, but I doubt it.
Would Moby-Dick have been a great novel if the ship had been commanded by Captain Henderson? Suppose the father in To Kill A Mockingbird were named Bob Finch--every other word of the book remains the same. Still a classic?
Sometimes I think character names are the most obvious places to see the author's intentions, and his/her talent. Obvious names are clumsy and take you out of the story; people aren't really named with their destinies in mind. Bland names are, well, bland. They might give you a sense of reality, in that most people don't really have interesting names, but they don't add to the story, either.
This I can tell you with complete assurance: All the names of characters in my books--ALL of them--are desperation moves made by an author who had no idea whatsoever to call these people, and each and every one of them was at some point going to replaced with something better as soon as the author came up with a better alternative.
He never did. Until maybe after publication, when it was too late.
A note to those who miss the LP-to-Digital Conversion Project: Great news! For a totally random occasion that has nothing whatsoever to do with the anniversary of my birth, I have received a new gadget, one which now allow me to convert cassette tapes to Mp3 format. So be watching in the coming weeks as I find even stranger memories from the past and turn them into digital files.
