Q: With such an original novel concept and structure, how did you come up with The Names?
I think it grew quite organically out of my own interests. I’ve always been fascinated by the things that shape us as people and a name, which we’re given at birth and then carry out into the world with us, seems like it has the potential to have a profound impact on that. Either because of the associations we bring to it ourselves, or through those drawn by others.
Q: Can you walk us through your creative process in crafting The Names? And how did you find the characters evolved during the writing process?
Early on in the writing process I had a sense of who this boy might be in each version of his life, as his mother’s choice of name has such an instant effect on his upbringing and the role his domineering father will play. The trickier thing was deciding who each would become by the end of the novel, if they were to transition to nuanced, flawed, relatable, fully rounded adults, where the reader could truly understand and believe in their motivations. I spent a long time thinking these things over and, as I felt my way towards an answer of sorts, I filled in the plot points that might act as the stepping stones to help each of my characters reach that place.
Q: In your book, names hold deep symbolic significance leading our main character to three quite contrasting lives, as well as impacting the lives of those around him. How do you see the role of names in the broader cultural or societal context?
Although I find the traditional meanings of names interesting, I’m more fascinated by the subconscious associations we bring to them, and how these might influence us. When we learn someone’s name, we naturally make certain assumptions, often before ever meeting them face-to-face. We hear their name – Brenda, Dolly, Tarquin, Mohammed, Sunday, Boris, Fern, Riz – and form an idea of how approachable, professional, or friendly they’re likely to be. It might cause us to make unwitting assumptions around age, class, culture, race, gender. Or perhaps our opinion might be coloured by a name that reminds us of an old classmate, a favourite grandparent, someone in the public eye. These things have the potential to affect how a job application might be received, or whether we’ll cross paths with a potential partner. Although in many ways, this seems an odd thing – because a name is most often something of our parents’ choosing, rather than our own. But it’s impossible to unpick where our name ends and we begin, when we’re all the product of our upbringing.
Q: Did you intentionally choose these names for your character to represent certain traits or themes? What led you to choose Bear, Gordon and Julian?
Yes, these names were there pretty much from the start. In one version of this boy’s life, I wanted him to have a name handed down through the generations. I settled on Gordon, which feels suitably traditional, and then quickly imagined the pull this young boy might feel towards a bottle of gin bearing his own name. In another narrative, I wanted a name that felt larger than life, to explore how it might feel if this boy were, contrastingly, given the opportunity to spread out and really become his name. And then there is Julian. At least at first, this name treads the middle ground between these two. It means sky father, ostensibly a tribute, but is actually given in the hope he might transcend his troubled earth father.
Q: With the three separate timelines following Bear, Gordon and Julian, did you face any particular challenges in terms of pacing or narrative structure when writing The Names? How did you work through them?
By accident, rather than design, the structure of this novel offered me a relatively safe place to work from as a writer. We revisit in turn each version of this boy’s life every seven years, and once I’d established that, it provided a very clear roadmap to follow.
Q: Are there any other books, music, or movies that you feel influenced you or helped during your writing process for The Names?
Yes, I love this question. I think everything we read, watch or listen to probably alters our perspective a little. But if forced to pick out a few, I’d say: the plot and pace of Kiley Reid’s Such a Fun Age; the psychological insight of Stephen Grosz’s The Examined Life; the warmth, nostalgia, and character development of the television series, This is Us; a particularly horrifying painting by Goya; those lyrics from the Bruce Springsteen track Dancing in the Dark, where he sings: ‘I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face’. I think Julian feels this sentiment deeply during one particular scene in my novel. Although it also seems to speak more generally, to what it is to wonder who we might be if we could break free of the confines of our own self. And yes, perhaps even our own names.
Q: If there’s one key message or takeaway you hope readers get from The Names, what would it be?
Hope. My novel explores what it is to be shaped by our circumstances – our name, our upbringing, the people around us. By fate and chance, too. But what I hope readers will also feel is that, as Bear, Julian, and Gordon move into adulthood, each gains a sense of his own autonomy and, within the context of the hand he’s been dealt, does ultimately get to decide the person who he wants to be in the world. To me, this feels a profoundly hopeful thing.
