My Little Adventure with Race Names
So, I was working on this thing, right? A personal project, pouring my heart into it. And you know how it goes, you think you’ve got all the big stuff figured out, then something tiny just trips you up. For me, it was coming up with names for the different races in my world. Seemed easy. Spoiler: it wasn’t.
I thought, “Okay, a couple of cool-sounding words, maybe mix some letters, done in an hour.” Oh, the sweet innocence. Turns out, trying to make something sound unique, fitting for the race’s vibe, and, you know, actually pronounceable by a human being is a nightmare. It’s like that feeling when you look at a big company, and you hear they’re using ten different programming languages for everything. Sounds impressive from afar, but then you wonder how they get anything done without it all turning into a giant knot.
The “Process,” or How I Wasted a Week
My brilliant process started with what I thought was a genius move. I dived deep. I’m talking etymology websites, ancient language dictionaries, mythology books. My browser had more tabs open than I have brain cells on a Monday morning. I was looking for that “authentic” feel, you know?
- First, I tried to be all historical. That just led to names nobody could spell or say.
- Then, I hit up the online name generators. Oh boy. Most of what they spat out sounded like either a new medication with terrible side effects or a piece of IKEA furniture I’d definitely assemble wrong.
- I even tried to be clever, mashing up existing words. Like, “Shadow” and “Kith” became “Shath”? Or “Kadow”? It was getting ugly. My notes looked like a madman’s scribblings.
Seriously, my entire project stalled. Not because of some game-breaking bug. Not because of writer’s block on the main story. Nope. It was because I couldn’t decide if the ‘Xyltharians’ sounded more like wise ancient beings or angry space beetles. And trying to make them all sound different but part of the same world? Forget about it. I had a list of names that all felt like they were auditioning for the same B-movie alien role.
The Big “Whatever” Moment
I was getting so frustrated. All this effort, all this pressure to be original. It felt like I was building this incredibly complicated system, for what? Just names! It reminded me of stories you hear about projects where everyone is trying to reinvent the wheel for every little component, and nothing ever actually ships. You know, like trying to build a custom solution for everything when a simple, existing tool would do.
Then, I kind of just… stopped. I looked at some of my favorite old games and books. Their race names? Orcs. Elves. Goblins. Stuff like that. Simple. Effective. Nobody ever complained their elves weren’t called ‘Aethel’flarions of the Whispering Shade.’
So, I scrapped most of my convoluted, “unique” names. I went for simpler, more evocative words, or just things that sounded good without needing a PhD in linguistics to decipher. Some I kept, the ones that actually worked, but I cut out all the fancy nonsense.
What I Figured Out
My big takeaway from this whole “race name” saga? Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good, especially for stuff that, in the grand scheme of things, might not be as critical as you think. It’s easy to get lost in the details and overcomplicate things. I see it happen all the time. People try to make everything super unique, super complex, and they just end up with a tangled mess that’s hard to manage and doesn’t really add much value. My race names are simpler now. And you know what? The world feels just as rich. And I actually got back to, you know, making the actual thing.
Sometimes, just getting the job done with something straightforward is way better than aiming for some mythical level of perfection that just stalls you out. That’s my two cents, anyway, from my little dive into the naming rabbit hole.
