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Names are important to me. Note: Please refer to the chapter entitled ‘Numerous Names’ in this book. Our names define us and naming characters is something I take quite seriously. Sometimes a character will walk right up and introduce him/herself to me. “Hi there, glad to meet ya.” Those are the easy ones. It’s the ones I have to find names for that can set me to hours of searching baby-names-and-their-meanings websites. (It’s another great way of procrastinating too.) Note: Please refer to the chapter entitled ‘Procrastination Problems’ located in this book. As you can tell from my real name … oh wait … you don’t know my real name. As you can tell from some of my pseudonyms and characters (if you’ve read the books) I come from a long line of strange names and think everyone else should too.
What a name means is also important. (Several ex-boyfriends have run screaming into the night when I whip out the … baby name book.) Note: Please refer to the chapter entitled ‘Real Relationships’ located in this book and not in volume two … in hopes that there is a volume two. For example: John Colaw (in ‘Hunter of the Law’) means masculine lawman and he’s the chief of police.
Never name your character something you don’t like to type (or can’t spell). I wore the V button (and my finger) out on the laptop by the time I got through ‘The Adventures of V’. The female lead calls him V though the entire book and the sequel (if I ever get it finished), while everybody else calls him Marshal Verge. Trying to keep track of all those V’s through two hundred pages just about did me in.
In ‘Stealing Spirit’ everyone’s name except for the witches is a mishmash of all the people I work with. Apparently, none of them ever read the book because I never received any complaints (or compliments). I made the mistake of naming all four generations of witches ‘Bridget’ (a good old fashion pagan name) so I had to go back and give them each a type of tree as a middle name so readers (and I) could tell them apart.
Ex-boyfriends’ and ex-husbands’ names work well for victims or bad guys. When desperate and nothing is working, I have been known to open the phone book (that’s that big yellow thing they kill several forests with by printing it then dump it on your front porch where it gets rained on and you stick it on a shelf and never look at it again until the shelf sags from years of accumulated weight and I don’t even have a house phone) at a random page to find a first name or last name. Ah … don’t use the whole real name. Careful. This activity can lead to procrastination. Note: Please refer to the chapter titled ‘Procrastination Problems’ located in this book which counts as procrastination because your searching and reading instead of writing. (“What was his mother thinking naming him Richard? Now his name is Dick Comer.” or “Didn’t she realize her name would sound like a sexual position after she married him and took his last name? Now her name is Layla Bedstrom.”)
And just when you think you’ve master the talent of naming characters, just remember there are pets and towns and street names and body parts, but that is a whole different chapter.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Numerous Names
(Five … count em … Five Pennames)
“Why can’t you just write under your own name?” It’s one of the biggest complaints I get and my number one answer is, ah … there are explicit sex scenes in the stories and I don’t want some weirdo hunting me down. My real-legal-first-name is not your typical female first name and ditto, I don’t want some whacko finding out where I live. My real-legal-last-name is my ex-husband’s and I really don’t want him to get any of the credit when I finally hit the New York Times Bestseller List.
Then comes the next question and it’s always the same one. “I can understand not wanting to write under your real name but why can’t you just write under one penname?” One thing I hate as a reader is following an author through a series, then pick up their next book and it’s something completely different. But if you buy a J. D. Robb book you know it’s an Eve Dallas novel and not a Nora Roberts. An author’s name link with the character of their series is a good selling tool. I have several series thus several names. Another reason is two out of my three publishers are competitors in the same market and separate nom-de-plumes solved that problem before blood was shed. Also, each of my others has their own distinct personalities and writing styles.
“Such as?” I had never really considered this until a reporter asked what each of the girls would be like if she were interviewing them (instead of me which was confusing because … I am them … they are me … we all live in the same head and share a bathroom, a really tiny bathroom) and where did their names come from. It’s the best question a reporter has ever asked me.
Grace Thomas was born first. Grace was my father’s mother’s name. She is the professional writer of the bunch. She wouldn’t think of entering her book-lined office unless fully dressed in a power suit, hair done, made up and nails sharpened to sit at the mahogany desk in her faux leather chair drinking strong black French roast coffee. She brooks no nonsense from the other girls and can be a tad overbearing.
Teresa Thomas started life out as Mozella but a publisher thought that sounded too much like cheese and baptized her Teresa. (Which I hated because anytime I have been called from a waiting room, they have called me Teresa and that is not my name.) That’s all right. She lived through the trauma and came out a better person. She’s the dreamer who sits by the open window looking out over fields of flowers, dressed in gauzy flowing scarves sipping lemonade and writing spy novels from the twenties on a typewriter.
Mozella Thomas (not to be confused with cheese unless it’s Swiss with lots of holes in it) is named after my mother’s mother. Her main character has multiple personalities and amnesia so she has a lot of people and plot twists to keep up with and holes to fill in. Moze is normally found wandering around my apartment dressed in tattered jeans and cigarette-sparks-sprinkled holey sweatshirts, muttering to herself, trailing cigarette ashes, Post-it© Notes and empty coffee cups in her wake.
Tinker Thomas is the mean and bossy one. Tinker was my childhood nickname. Maybe she’s so mean because she doesn’t have a series but anything I write that won’t fit into one of the other story lines, falls to her to take care of and tinker with until it becomes a book. She’s also the cop and scheduler and hall monitor of the group so she dresses in a police uniform complete with badge, boots, belt, radio, gun, Taser, cell phone, nightstick and whip. (Hey … wait a minute. Whip? Maybe she’s started a side business I should check up on.)
And poor Paige Endover, the ugly step-sister. Her name came about when I was having fun (yeah right) with an editor. This editor kept sending the manuscript back to me over and over until even I couldn’t stand the sight of my own work, the sex scenes wouldn’t arouse a nymphomaniac and I didn’t care who-done-it as long as they hurried up and got it done. As I tried to keep my blood pressure down, wake my numb butt up from sitting in the chair for days and keep my emotions in check as she hacked up my book, I finally said, “Last time, last page, the end, over and done with. Hey, wait. That would make a great name.” Paige is sort of dark gothic from her troubled birth but a Pagan New Ager in her ways of handling the world. (And no, she is not the one responsible for the curse on a certain editor.) I felt so sorry for her, I gave her own PlotsbyPaige@blogspot.com page.
Occasionally, someone named Bobbi Snow sneaks out onto the page. But she writes ghost stories and we’ve never been properly introduced. She’s sort of buried in the cold, dark, unused portions of my brain and only bobs up every once in awhile.
(I just realized none of the ladies have middle names. I’ll have to work on that one.)
ThomasNovels, Mysteries with Fire. Thomas because that is my family name and no matter how many exes I have … and because I want to carry on the family name (right up there on the New York Times Bestseller List). Novels because … ah … they’re novels. Mysteries with Fire because there’s a lot of hot sizzling sex in there, don’t ya know.
“Why can’t you just write under your own name?” It’s one of the biggest complaints I get and my number one answer is, ah … there are explicit sex scenes in the stories and I don’t want some weirdo hunting me down. My real-legal-first-name is not your typical female first name and ditto, I don’t want some whacko finding out where I live. My real-legal-last-name is my ex-husband’s and I really don’t want him to get any of the credit when I finally hit the New York Times Bestseller List.
Then comes the next question and it’s always the same one. “I can understand not wanting to write under your real name but why can’t you just write under one penname?” One thing I hate as a reader is following an author through a series, then pick up their next book and it’s something completely different. But if you buy a J. D. Robb book you know it’s an Eve Dallas novel and not a Nora Roberts. An author’s name link with the character of their series is a good selling tool. I have several series thus several names. Another reason is two out of my three publishers are competitors in the same market and separate nom-de-plumes solved that problem before blood was shed. Also, each of my others has their own distinct personalities and writing styles.
“Such as?” I had never really considered this until a reporter asked what each of the girls would be like if she were interviewing them (instead of me which was confusing because … I am them … they are me … we all live in the same head and share a bathroom, a really tiny bathroom) and where did their names come from. It’s the best question a reporter has ever asked me.
Grace Thomas was born first. Grace was my father’s mother’s name. She is the professional writer of the bunch. She wouldn’t think of entering her book-lined office unless fully dressed in a power suit, hair done, made up and nails sharpened to sit at the mahogany desk in her faux leather chair drinking strong black French roast coffee. She brooks no nonsense from the other girls and can be a tad overbearing.
Teresa Thomas started life out as Mozella but a publisher thought that sounded too much like cheese and baptized her Teresa. (Which I hated because anytime I have been called from a waiting room, they have called me Teresa and that is not my name.) That’s all right. She lived through the trauma and came out a better person. She’s the dreamer who sits by the open window looking out over fields of flowers, dressed in gauzy flowing scarves sipping lemonade and writing spy novels from the twenties on a typewriter.
Mozella Thomas (not to be confused with cheese unless it’s Swiss with lots of holes in it) is named after my mother’s mother. Her main character has multiple personalities and amnesia so she has a lot of people and plot twists to keep up with and holes to fill in. Moze is normally found wandering around my apartment dressed in tattered jeans and cigarette-sparks-sprinkled holey sweatshirts, muttering to herself, trailing cigarette ashes, Post-it© Notes and empty coffee cups in her wake.
Tinker Thomas is the mean and bossy one. Tinker was my childhood nickname. Maybe she’s so mean because she doesn’t have a series but anything I write that won’t fit into one of the other story lines, falls to her to take care of and tinker with until it becomes a book. She’s also the cop and scheduler and hall monitor of the group so she dresses in a police uniform complete with badge, boots, belt, radio, gun, Taser, cell phone, nightstick and whip. (Hey … wait a minute. Whip? Maybe she’s started a side business I should check up on.)
And poor Paige Endover, the ugly step-sister. Her name came about when I was having fun (yeah right) with an editor. This editor kept sending the manuscript back to me over and over until even I couldn’t stand the sight of my own work, the sex scenes wouldn’t arouse a nymphomaniac and I didn’t care who-done-it as long as they hurried up and got it done. As I tried to keep my blood pressure down, wake my numb butt up from sitting in the chair for days and keep my emotions in check as she hacked up my book, I finally said, “Last time, last page, the end, over and done with. Hey, wait. That would make a great name.” Paige is sort of dark gothic from her troubled birth but a Pagan New Ager in her ways of handling the world. (And no, she is not the one responsible for the curse on a certain editor.) I felt so sorry for her, I gave her own PlotsbyPaige@blogspot.com page.
Occasionally, someone named Bobbi Snow sneaks out onto the page. But she writes ghost stories and we’ve never been properly introduced. She’s sort of buried in the cold, dark, unused portions of my brain and only bobs up every once in awhile.
(I just realized none of the ladies have middle names. I’ll have to work on that one.)
ThomasNovels, Mysteries with Fire. Thomas because that is my family name and no matter how many exes I have … and because I want to carry on the family name (right up there on the New York Times Bestseller List). Novels because … ah … they’re novels. Mysteries with Fire because there’s a lot of hot sizzling sex in there, don’t ya know.
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