The Absolute Madness of Naming Characters

 Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters.

It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only.

See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis.

Let’s walk through the madness.

The Overthinking Spiral of Doom

You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something—

Oh no.

Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. This one reminds you of your third-grade math teacher, and that one was the name of your childhood hamster. There are rules. There are expectations. There are subconscious associations.

You tell yourself, "Just pick something normal!" But then you land on Joe.

Joe.

JOE?

No.

You can’t just name your character Joe. It feels wrong. It feels incomplete. It feels like you’ve given up on life. (Apologies to all the Joes out there. It’s not you; it’s me.)

So you go down a rabbit hole of baby name websites, historical archives, and—if you're me—occasionally yelling, “What’s a good villain name that doesn’t sound like I made it up at 3 AM?!”

The Unexpected Betrayal of Past You

So let’s say you finally name the character. You love it. It’s perfect. You’re a genius. You pat yourself on the back and move on.

Fast-forward six books later. You’re deep into the plot, things are coming together beautifully, and then—you have a horrible realization.

You’ve used this name before.

Not just somewhere—oh no. You’ve used it in book one.

And not for just any character.

For a completely different person with a completely different vibe.

So now you have two options:

1. Go back and rename one of them (which will absolutely break your soul, because now you can’t imagine them as anything else).
2. Pretend it was a fun little Easter egg and hope nobody notices.

(Spoiler: they will notice. They always notice.)

The ‘Oh No, This Name Is Too Cool for a Side Character’ Dilemma

Then, of course, there’s the opposite problem. Sometimes you throw a name at a minor character, thinking they’ll just be in one scene. No big deal. Whatever. And then—BAM.

They take over.

They demand a backstory. They demand a subplot. They have main character energy and suddenly, they’re more interesting than your actual protagonist.

And now you’ve wasted a perfectly good name on someone you originally introduced as “Bartender #2.”

Final Thoughts (and a Warning)

If you ever see an author staring blankly into the distance with dead eyes, don’t ask them if they’re okay. They’re probably just trying to name a character.

And if you’re writing a series, KEEP A LIST OF YOUR CHARACTER NAMES. (I have learned this the hard way. Multiple times.)

Otherwise, you’ll be halfway through your grand finale before you realize your noble hero’s long-lost father has the same name as the guy who ran the bakery in book two.

And at that point?

Just roll with it.

(Or make them long-lost twins. Whatever works.)