What's in a Name?

Hi, Anne Gracie, here. I was taking a little break from a mad whirl of blogging and writing and I picked up Jessica Hart's Secret Princess. I hit page 9 and suddenly I was TOTALLY distracted!

Raoul the Wolf...

It's just a name without so much as a shadow, a throwaway line, a distant ancestor, of the heroine, but what a name! I want him.

I want to write his story.

I know nothing about him, but ... sigh....

Why do I have to fall for the heroine's ancestor?

I haven't even met the grumpy Scottish hero and I'm sure he'll be fabulous but oh, Raoul the Wolf.

Is it the fault of Mary Stewart, do you think, that I imprinted on Raouls young? Ascribing heroic qualities to all Raouls? 

Wolves, too, though that's not her fault — I've always been a dog person.

Anyway, to me, the combination of Raoul and wolf is irresistible.

It helps that I have never met a real live Raoul. Or a wolf, for that matter.

Still, I yearn for Raoul the Wolf.

I wrote a Dominic Wolfe once, but still, Rrraoul... that growly French sound.;)

Shakespeare said, "that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet" and that might be right, but I don't think roses would be nearly as romantic by any other name — spikethorns, or babiesbottoms, for instance, or even indefatigables,  because roses are strong plants that can endure a great deal of neglect. In the Australian bush you'll often see an old, abandoned farmhouse where all that remains is ruined stone chimney and a rose bush or two, planted no doubt by some pioneer woman who wanted a bit of beauty in her hard life.

It's the same with writing. Names matter, and naming characters is harder than you might think. You might know exactly what your story is about, some exciting idea that you know is going to be fabulous, and you start writing... and it's flat and dead. All the elements are there, but for some reason your hero or heroine hasn't sprung to life; they're just going through the motions, sulking, refusing to be heroic, or even interesting.

Silly as it sounds, often the reason is you've given them the wrong name. I once started a book with a heroine called Serena — she was smug and dull and I hated her. I renamed her Tallie and she sprang to life and the story was off and running.

I've tried to name a hero Adam on several occasions. I have no luck with Adams. They invariably turn out to be Nicholas or Sebastian or someone, and I once tried to write a Francis but he declared he was a Hugo. Names are important.

In my new book, BRIDE BY MISTAKE, it was the heroine who was stubborn about her name. She insisted she was Isabella, even though I didn't want her to be — the name Isabella is already taken by a very special member of my family. I tried other names on her, but no, she refused to budge on it: she was Isabella, or Bella.

I should have known then she'd be a handful. It doesn't take Luke, my hero, long to discover that either. He'd married her eight years before, during wartime, when he was a young Lieutenant of nineteen — tall, dark and beautiful as an angel, a warrior angel. Isabella was only thirteen, in desperate peril and fleeing a hateful, forced marriage. Luke saved her by marrying her himself. He didn't think anything of it — he didn't expect to survive the war, you see. (That's my hero in the pic — well it's Rufus Sewell, but he's also my Luke.) 

But the war is over, and Luke's application for an annulment was refused. Now he must return to Spain and fetch the bride he had almost forgotten. At least, he thinks, after eight years in a convent, she will be docile and obedient. . .

Background to the excerpt: Luke and Bella are leaving the convent. Luke, expecting Bella to have a lot of luggage, had brought a donkey but it's not needed.

         

            "What are you going to do with the donkey?" she asked.

            Luke mounted his own horse. "Miguel can take him."

            The boy, hearing his name, looked up. "Take him where, señor?"

            "Wherever you like. I don't need the donkey after all."

            The boy's eyes widened.  He clutched the donkey's lead in his grubby fist and glanced from Luke to Isabella and back at Luke. "How much?"

            "Nothing. It's a gift," Luke told him.

            "A gift ?" The boy's eyes gleamed then the excitement faded. "Señor, my mother would not allow such a gift. You paid her already, most generously."

            "They may be poor but they have their pride," Isabella said softly to Luke. She said something in the boy's language and Miguel turned to Luke in surprise. "Is true, señor?"

            "Tell him it's true, Lord Ripton," Isabella said with a hint of a smile.

            "It's true," Luke said, hoping it was.

            Miguel's face split in a brilliant grin. "What a place England must be! Thank you señor, may you have many fine sons, many fine sons!" he told Luke enthusiastically. "My mother will be so happy. With a donkey I can collect more wood for winter. With a donkey we can carry goods to market."

            They set off, the convent community clustered in the gateway calling last goodbyes and waving. Miguel and the donkey ran along beside them for a short while, waving, whooping and wishing them even more fine sons, until Isabella shouted a final goodbye to Miguel and urged her horse into a canter.  She had an excellent seat

            Luke followed, and in a few minutes they were alone on the narrow, winding road, heading down the mountain, leaving the convent and the village far behind.

            After a while the track broadened and Isabella slowed to a walk. Luke brought his mount alongside her mare so that the horses were walking side by side.

            "Not finding it too tiring?"

            She gave him a surprised look. "Not at all." 

            He pulled out a flask of cold spring water and passed it to her. She unstoppered it, drank and handed it back to him with a murmured thanks.

            He was about to drink, when a question occurred to him. "What did you tell Miguel about the donkey?" 

            "Just that it is an English tradition for a bridegroom to give a male donkey as a gift." She added with a glimmer of mischief, "To ensure a son, you understand, donkeys being... well endowed."

            Luke, in the act of drinking from his flask, choked. She gave a gurgle of laughter and rode ahead. His demure convent bride.

So Bella is a handful, and she leads Luke a merry dance, which is exactly what Luke needs. I loved writing this book and I hope you enjoy Luke and Bella's romance as much as I did.

Now, returning to Raoul the Wolf. Who is he, do you think? Portray him in 10 words or less. I'll give a copy of BRIDE BY MISTAKE to the most fun portrayal — as long as you remember he's mine, all miiiine. (Or Jessica Hart's.)

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***Eli Yanti is the winner of BRIDE BY MISTAKE! Congrats, Eli!!  Please send an email to totebag@authorsoundrelations.com with your full name and mailing address so we can get the book to you!
Thanks to all for stopping by!***