I've spoken before about how I'm having trouble concentrating on writing fiction. This has yet to change, although I'm going to try writing outside somewhere, in the hopes that might help. No internet, Kingdom Hearts, or suchlike might make this easier.
That said, I have given a reasonable amount of time over the past three days to the problem. Not enough, not by a long shot, but some. So, have I made progress?
Not exactly, if progress is supposed to have anything to do with actually writing a story. I sort of took something off the back-burner over the past three days, and tried to see if I could get that stew to boil. Not really working, although in my defense, it's a difficult task.
What task? Oh, creating a language.
No, not the whole language. Just enough to get by. Names are a difficult thing to deal with, especially when you're dealing with historical times. If you have a story set in the modern times with a Kunta, a Sam, and a Lloyd, no one would bat an eye at the names, because all traditions of names have converged into one big Baby Names Book. But in the past, names are to a real degree intertwined with history, language, and location. If Carlos, Saladin, Ehud, and Nguyen were walking around Chaucer's England, they'd generate confusion that they wouldn't if they were hanging out at the National Gallery.
So, if you want to create a sense of place, one of the simplest ways (in theory) to make it distinct from the rest of the world is to come up with the names that define it.
Let me repeat that, if I may, with text: In theory.
So, I created a
naming language. Or, at least, I tried. I've got the results in a spreadsheet: 858 sylables (the total amount that the language system I came up with can hold: each syllable starts with one of ten consonants (or none, if the word feels up for it) , has one of six vowel sounds (including "ar"), and then ends with one of thirteen consonants). And then, after taking the list of root words from the guide (words which are common in European names, like "rose" and "arrow" and "bear-like"), as well as a few which would be more important for the story (Debt, which is a religious foundation), I began to play Adam's role, naming the dogs and the wolves and the lion-likes and the earnests using only those syllables which I had seen must suffice. Occasionally, when I was being clever, I'd combine words to reinforce concepts; Leader, for example, is literally "Wise-debt". Which makes sense to me, and the reader presumably wouldn't know.
At last, it was done. And so, I tried creating some likely names for people and places.
Does Tiketatshaib sound like a name to you? How about Shadshaim? Kwibegike? Minebaig?
Now, none of these are names which are difficult to pronounce. No, they're not; the only confusion (before I added a couple e's) might be whether it was a long or short i sound, because I couldn't figure out what to use to remind myself that it's a long i (or a short o). But just because they're pronounceable doesn't mean they seem like names. Would you follow someone named "Minbaig"? Acually, that's a bad example, given "Minbaig" means "Laughing fish", and thus probably shouldn't be a leader in general. But how about Gotbeht? It means "Famous chief." It sounds like "Question asked by your bookie".
Now, here's the kicker: the story takes place in a loose confederacy of ten kingdoms, which are more or less autonomous but whose Lords are very keen on having the King be from their own kingdom. (Now that I consider, it might be interesting if one of the Lords, and the person they sent, didn't actually care, and sent a person/was sent by the Lord as a pure matter of form. I shall keep that in mind...) And, originally, I'd wanted it to be somewhat clear (in my own mind) that no, that person is clearly from Ipov, not Ursteno, they're on opposite sides of the map, can't you tell just by the name?
And the guide to making languages has suggested rules for linguistic drift. Simple ones, ones which can easily make John into a a Jean into a Juan into a Giovanni into a Yohan. John, though. That's a good, solid name. You can trust a John. Can you trust a Bine?
Again, you probably shouldn't, since Bine means "dog". But how about Barm, his brother? Would you put his life in his hands? Even if his name was Parm or Varm or Farm or Gwarm (common places for B to drift into), is this still a name you can trust to hit a target with an arrow at fifty paces? I know their names all mean "bow", and I don't trust any of them much more than I do Bine. They just don't sound... namey.
Maybe it's just a sort of Indo-European bias. But I don't know if that's it. I believe in
Kunta Kinte,
Ho Chi Minh, and
Chiang Kai-shek. Heck, I believe in
Bilbo Baggins,
Ged, and (Thih Tolgais (that is, God Debt-Lord) protect me),
Moist Von Lipwig. And I believe in Elya Faren, Amyr Jaylen, Gat Jakpa, and Emerit Host. Can I believe in them with new names? Would Gatnehr Shairnahl be the same person as Gat Jakpa? Would she even be recognizable as a person, a young woman who cares for her invalid brother and sews for her living without complaint, but want someone to love before she grows old, no matter how fleetingly?
Right now, I think the names I handcrafted are reasonably consistent. But I don't know how long that can last. I relaunched this task after wondering what to name a innkeeper; I could just give him a quick name, or no name at all, and that would be the end of it. But inevitably, I'd end up with something that doesn't work. Even if every person's name works, the place names. If I had an easy list I could go to, say "Water-bearer Red-fish... Ah. That's a good name", and move on, that would be nifty. And I have such a list, but Markaifshaib Shahdbaig isn't exactly Martin Smith in terms of comphrehensibility.
I'm so tempted to just go back to my original plan, say "Fuck it! Shane is Germany and Caledone is Wales", and go get a bloody baby names book. Probably, though, I'll just wipe the spreadsheet, and start again.
The other three names at the top? Crown-Defender, Red-River, and Protecting-Gate.