Sorry, I'm Just So Bad With Names
Why you should stop saying this, especially if you want to read my novel...
My friend’s dad still recalls the first and last name of the woman who registered him for the draft during the Vietnam War.
When my 95-year-old Grandpa tells stories, he starts with, “In 1972, I worked with a person named…” and recalls every detail about who, what, where, when.
Matthew Makley prefaces his book The Small Shall Be Strong: A History of Lake Tahoe’s Washoe Indians with:
“I recall interviewing Washoe Tribal chair Brian Wallace as an eager doctoral student. I was transcribing everything he said. At one point he commented, ‘You know, in Washoe country we think when you write something down, you intend to forget it.’ I wrote that down. After a moment I stopped writing and listened.”
My generation blames smart phones and the internet for our inability to commit important information to memory. Why bother remembering anything when we have tiny computers in our pockets? Who among us can give directions using actual street names anymore?
But forgetting a person’s name the moment after they say it?
Our lethargy knows no bounds. Names are tied deeply to human identity. To say, “Sorry, I’m so bad with names,” is an excuse for not trying. It’s like saying, “Sorry your existence, your essence, your identity is not really that important to me. I’m so busy and fragile and overwhelmed that I won’t bother putting even an iota of effort into remembering the most foundational thing about you.”
Choosing Character Names
As a writer, I search for character names often. It’s an important process. Sometimes they appear immediately, sometimes I have to work for them. Here’s a sample of character names from my book-in-progress:
Joshua Shipp
Frederick Holst
Arthur Hackett
Giusseppe
Damaguyayugi
DewéɁi
Some of these names I borrowed from kids I coached in track (a promise given nearly a decade ago). Some came to me while waitressing, rearranging customer names (which gave me one of my favorites: Wild Carl). Some have been gifted to me by members of the Wašiw Nation.
What’s in a Wašiw Name?
When I approached members of the Wašiw Nation asking for help with my historical novel, one of the earliest decisions was about names. In Wašiw tradition, names are never reused or spoken after a person’s death, which means my characters needed their own unique names based on their own unique personalities. I couldn’t simply pick a common name like Tom or Bob because that concept doesn’t exist in Wašiw culture.
Generously, volunteers took my character list with descriptions and invented suitable names I could use.
To Simplify or Risk Discomfort?
We all gloss over words, reading sentences rather than letters. Writers try to make it easy by giving each character only one name and keeping names visually unique. A story with Derek, Desere, Darius, and Daphne is too confusing because the reader catches the first letter and skims the rest.
Yuo’ve ll sene tihgns lkie tihs taht poerv we dno’t rllaey nede seplling, rhgit?
So what about this list of names?
Dahamugayugi
DewéɁi
MileɁigiɁi
Pros and Cons of Names I Can’t Pronounce
I’ve debated this at length: Do I choose easy-to-pronounce names for my English-reading audience? Do I risk making non-Wašiw-speakers uncomfortable by adding super long names in a language I myself can barely pronounce? (Yes, I’m practicing my pronunciation a lot to say these names right.) I’ve even wondered if a publisher will accept the financial cost of printing a 1.5-inch-long name with unique characters hundreds of times throughout a novel.
Plus, there’s the ever-present white person’s question: Should I even be having this discussion with myself (and now with you)?
Oh yeah, the Pros and Cons
Here’s what I’ve decided:
The risk is alienating non-Wašiw-speaking readers with hard-to-pronounce names (aka will readers bother to try?)
What’s at stake? Further erasing a culture that has already been severely abused by our colonial past, present, and future (yes, I said future…we’re not out of this yet)
What is there to gain? Honoring Wašiw culture by portraying a more full history of the Lake Tahoe region and broadening readers’ understanding of how language is irrevocably tied to culture, land, and identity.
What is there to lose? Maybe some readers will be turned off by my language choices. Maybe an editor will hate it. Maybe I’ll lose readers, get bad reviews, never get published…
I’m So Good at Remembering Names
They say that to understand the history of the land, one must start with the language. Including Wašiw names and words in my novel is a business decision I am making, a creative choice. I am choosig to honor the full history of Tahoe as best I can. Now, I’m asking you now to start practicing as well.
Consider a person’s name as their most important key. As if they just told you the winning lottery numbers or the combination to a million-dollar safe. Consider it a courtesy.
Whatever trick you use, go ahead and try. And if that sounds scary, here’s what I do:
4 Tricks to Remembering Names
Listen (that old hack learned from our parents and grandparents).
Repeat their name back. “Brian, it’s nice to meet you.” Sometimes I can feel their name’s not sticking, so I repeat it quietly in my head a dozen times. “Brian, Brian, Brian, Brian…”
If that doesn’t work, I ask “How do you spell that?” Seriously, I do this. Or I’ll say, “Is that Brian with an i or a y?” which gifts me time and visualization. Sometimes they’ll say, “With a y, obviously. That’s the best way to spell it…” which launches us into conversation and tells me more about their personality (bonus!).
Two months later, when I regrettably forget (which does happen, I know), I say, “I’m so sorry, please tell me your name again?” Or my favorite (go in guns blazing) “Jeannie, it’s so good to see you again!” And they say, “It’s Jan.” And then I grovel… and start back at step 1.
I’m not perfect, but this system works for me. And I really do spend the time trying to remember. It’s the least I can do.
Be Prepared to Read My Book
Start practicing so you’ll be that much more prepared to read my book(s). I’ve chosen my character names for a reason. Names are little keys that unlock our identities, gifted by parents, friends, or ourselves. Names matter. Your name matters. The names of my characters matter.
Maybe the publishing industry will hate my choices here. Maybe I’ll have to fight for this and learn where I really stand. But this is my novel, and my resolve. I don’t know what others will think, but hey… when I finally do get published, I’ll tell you all about here.
Do you have a friend who always says, “I’m so bad with names!” Send them this newsletter. I’m happy to be the one to tell them to get their sh*t together!
Brilliant article about names. As a resident of the upper seventies I have increasing problems with names. Like,where are my keys, where is my phone, did I lose my glasses again or have you seen my wallet? And by the way, who am I talking to and where do I make that turn to get home?
Great article Meghan! I will work on it!