It seems everything. I read this blog post: 'What's in a Name?' by the lovely Liane Spicer months ago about the power of name. Now, I acknowledge that power too, but in a different way. My sexy, intelligent, too-good-looking-for-his-own-good first love, Oliver, died tragically young. I don't write fiction about my life or anyone else’s because it inhibits my writing, but I thought I would name the male protagonist in Envy after him, in remembrance.
The story is not autobiographical (I would have beaten any woman who messed with him...just kidding!), but perhaps using his name is inhibiting me in some way. Maybe because I know that he was the bees' knees and so hot he sizzled, I’m not doing enough to convey this character's stellar qualities to reader—his gentleness, his drop-dead gorgeousness, his to-kill-for hotness. Maybe I should rewrite the story and call him Paul or Simon. Maybe.
