Post #165 April 15, 2019

“Making Up New Words: Why, When and How?”

One of the joys (and responsibilities) of every writer, especially storytellers in fiction, is making up new words.  This is especially prevalent in science fiction and fantasy…think of Harry Potter and muggles as an example.  In order to bring this off effectively, writers should adhere to some commonsense practices, so as not to drive their readers away or leave them scratching their heads.

1.  Why make up a new word?
    
   Writers make up new words for several reasons.  One is to drive home a point or to emphasize something.  One of my favorite examples comes again from the world of Harry Potter.  In London, when young Harry has to shop for brooms and wands, Hagrid takes him to a place called Diagon Alley…see the play on the word ‘diagonally’?  What’s being emphasized here is that this is a different kind of place, but somehow related to normal human places.  It’s a place of witches and warlocks and magic.  Diagonal means an at angle to, or slightly out of whack or off-kilter.  In one of my Time Jumpers stories, I’ve got a moon called Outtawhack.  The name emphasizes that it’s a place that’s just a little out of the ordinary.
    
   Another reason to make up a new word is to display or reveal character.  In my Farpool stories, I use a plot device called an echopod.  Among other things, it’s a sort of translation device.  Often, when something said by a Seomish person can’t be translated, or they’re very emotional about something, the echopod translates it as “Kkkqquuuqq—”  Seems like a nonsense syllable.  But in context, I’m trying to have all these consonants illustrate something like annoyance, or disgust, or confusion.  Not really a word, but you get the idea.
    
   A third reason to make up a word is to show details of setting, perhaps in the local language of its inhabitants.  In my Farpool stories, I often refer to tribal (kel) homes by their city names: Ponk’t, Omt’or, Sk’ort, where these habitat names are intended to be read and sound like something a marine creature would utter.  If I did my job right, such names would add to their reader’s sense that this is truly an alien (and marine) world.
    
2. When to make up a new word?
    
   Writers should not make up a new word when a normal word will do, unless some local color is needed.  See above.  Or maybe you want to inject a little realism into the story.  In a short story I recently wrote (not yet published), entitled ‘The Rain Queen of K-World,” I give the time frame of the story as 2 ½ C-79 (month of Half-Crescent, Midtober, 2779CE). In doing this, I wanted to convey that the people of K-World keep time a little differently from us.  They’re humans, like us, but they live on a world orbiting another sun.  The normal conventions of human timekeeping don’t apply there.  I used the word ‘Midtober’ to give a sense of alien-ness but not too much to put off a reader.  It gives the reader a sense of being grounded but also a sense that things are little different here. 
    
   Obviously, you can get carried away with this.  A little goes a long way, when making up new words.  I once read (or tried to read) Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange, which is filled with futuristic English criminal and gang slang.  It was difficult to get through…too many new words.
    
3. How to make up new words?
    
   Any new word you concoct has to sound right.  It needs to be pronounceable, at some level.  This was an issue I faced in The Farpool Stories, where I had actually made up the rudiments of a full language.  The tribal leader of a given clan was called the Metah, short for Metahshooklet.  I implied that this was translated as ‘The One Who Gives Love,’ indicating that the Seomish were sort of promiscuous sexually.  Say what you want about the pronounceability of the word, but I was consistent in how I used it.
    
   One way to make up new words and have them be understood is to ensure that the meaning is clear in context.  J.K. Rowling does this well in the Harry Potter stories.  Here, she is mostly dealing with slight variations in the English language, like Diagon Alley. 
    
   Or in my Farpool Stories, the name of the oceanic planet is Seome, which I derived from the words ‘sea’ and ‘home’.  The word sounds like what it is.  Another example from the same stories is ‘seamother.’  What’s a seamother?  It’s dragon-like beast, a fearsome carnivorous creature, but the very words ‘sea and ‘mother’ convey something opposite.  The context is negative here.  That tells you a little about the Seomish people, that they both fear and venerate this creature at the same time.
    
   Any time you make up a new word, pay attention to etymology…how words came to be.  Another example from Harry Potter: Harry’s nemesis at the Hogwarts school is a fellow Draco Malfoy.  I love that last name…trying saying it: mal…foy.  See the etymology?  It’s derived from many English words that have bad connotations: mal-function, mal-ware, malign, mal-feasance.  The name alone tells you, in a sort of subconscious way, that Draco is bad news.
    
   Making up new words is at the same time a right, a privilege and a responsibility for any writer.  But you shouldn’t do it without some care for how it will be perceived, how it will be read by your readers.  Done right, making up new words can add a powerful new dimension to your story, resonating with readers below their level of consciousness.  And that always makes a great story.

   
   

   The next post to The Word Shed comes on April 22.
   
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   See you then.
    
   Phil B.