…not Inigo Montoya.
As a reader of fantasy and science fiction, I often run across character names I cannot figure out how to pronounce. As a writer of these genres, I am also guilty of occasionally liking the way a name looks without considering how it should sound. Take, for example, ‘Chavali’. This is the main character in The Greatest Sin, and it’s based on the patterns used for Basque names. Is it ‘CHA-vah-lee’, ‘cha-VAH-lie’, ‘SHA-vay-lie’, ‘shay-VAH-lee’, or something else? (For the record, it’s ‘cha-VAH-lee’ with a soft ‘ch’.)
For some reason, when things are alien from the writer’s perspective, they need weird names. Some time ago, I began purposely using ordinary names when I play RPGs. Betsy. Marie. Braiden. Mouse. John. Jason. Anna. Molly. It’s easier to say “Matt uses his sword to eviscerate the orc” than “S’shisse’a casts Bless on the party”.
When I turned to writing as a serious endeavor instead of a hobby, I used some alien names for elves (count your lucky stars that you will never, ever see that first novel). Then I stepped back and thought about it. The first time I encounter these names, I have to stop, think about it, and assign some kind of sound to it in my head, whether it matches all the letters or not. It seems reasonable to suspect that others do the same thing.
Although this is generally a bad thing (the reader losing immersion is undesirable), for some reason, nonhuman or foreign characters demand unusual, brain-stopping names. When the elf is named ‘Bob’ or the Klingon is named ‘Barbara’, it feels like a betrayal. The alien must be alien, or it risks becoming too familiar to resonate as alien.
Lee French has published several fantasy and science fiction novels, and is a member of the Edgewise Words Inn staff