My girl needs a name, I think. Names come hard to me. Names I choose either smack of mediocrity forever, or are those wonderful accidents that years later still hold up. Tunneling was a good name, for our journal. Shiveringnaked was even a good name for the domain, the site in general. This book already has a title, and I don't know why I feel certain enough about it to even name the subdirectory after it. The Liquid.

When we were in high school, we were adamant Indigo Girls fans, and joined a mailing list devoted to other such fans. There we found out about many groups, and found out something else: our favorite artist at the time might have been Melissa Etheridge, but Indigo Girls fans liked what we liked. So we ordered a cd by Melissa Ferrick, based on recommendations.

Or maybe we asked for it for Christmas. I remember it was around Christmas that the words burned into me. The first listen was on random shuffle with everyone else's new music. Her voice struck me, and two days later I had listened to the cd maybe thirty, thirty-five times. I remember I was counting how many times in a row, with no other music, it would go. It was her best cd, and the words said something to me. I eventually settled on a favorite song, Heredity. It was like a prophecy for me, who had never been in relationships really. I'll quote the lyrics.

heredity

she took me to a secret place
not knowing that i had been there before
and i struggle with the memories
already lingering behind the door
deciding in an instant
not to bring it up
i slapped a smile on my face
blocked my tongue with my teeth
to keep it from falling out
and on the bed, well it came to her
all the reasons for getting away
yeah they poured out all over me
they poured out in anger and in rage
and she said well i don't know what it is
why we are falling apart
i only know that i am not happy
not when i know that you're breaking my heart
but i won't lay here and judge you
cause everybody goes through their stuff
but your stuff is drowning us
cause the liquid is killing her
it's washing her away
it's pulling her under a veil of white
and beneath the dead mermaids
all screaming out her name
they're screaming out her name
heredity, yeah yeah yeah...

so brought the conversation
you know that it all came back around
and the out of the one constant evil
that grew in small towns
and she said well why do you do it
why do you let yourself go
and i replied
i have no answer for a question with so many years to go
but the liquid is killing her
it's washing her away
it's pulling her under a veil of white
and beneath the dead mermaids
all screaming out her name
they're screaming out her name
heredity, yeah yeah yeah...

so she left me for a while
in the room that i had known before
and only now do i wonder about
that chances of a beginning and an ending on the same hotel floor
and then i think of her walking
alone in the dark
there were tears of surrender
and with a stomach full of knots
and she's thinking i should have said nothing
cause i'm not ready to let this love go
she thinks she spoke prematurely
she thinks that i don't know
that the liquid is killing her
it's washing her away
it's pulling her under a veil of white
and beneath the dead mermaids
all screaming out her name
they're screaming out her name
said the liquid is killing her
it's washing her away
it's pulling her under a veil of white
and beneath the dead mermaids
all screaming out her name
they're screaming out her name
heredity, yeah yeah yeah...
yeah yeah yeah...

I wrote a short story based on this song, and one of my interpretations. Of course, Melissa was talking about alcoholism, which I know now because I've heard her talk about it, now that she's sober. Heredity, because her father (at least him) before her knew the same struggle. "The liquid" in the song refers to the alcohol; that seems a reasonable assumption.

Alcohol is playing no part in this book, as far as I know. So why The Liquid? I remember listening to this song with tears of recognition and fear rolling down my face. I knew that every one of my relationships would end because I was too fucked-up. I told Dite, when I got together with her, about that fear, and she scoffed. But when I look at all the reasons why we split apart, I think the biggest was just that: my stuff was drowning her. We have learned since then that other people who are equally fucked up provide give and take, understanding, more peace.

But I guess in my head the liquid has always represented the stuff that drowns me, when I'm struggling with the black waves of my depression, my madness. The drowning metaphor has been one that's stuck, and the song is also stuck in me to represent my darkness. Even though my character doesn't have a relationship to wash away. She has those black waves licking over her head, and they are the liquid.

I can't figure out if it's good or cheesy, this title, but I'm happy with it. Titles that try to be too much never are, unless it's the book that holds them up and makes them famous.

So, my girl drowning in her Liquid. (I think there's more connotations behind the title that I haven't caught yet.) She is nameless. And I need a really good name, to write a whole book about her.

But names of people are harder. The names we've really connected with in the past have been taken in our own system, and we didn't know. Now that we know, there's no chance of that. If we used one of our own names, she'd be colored by us.

I'm over at this page that generated names based on US census data. It suggested Merilyn Herrlich for me, just now. Of course the last name should probably not be very foreign (German in this case) because I don't have the knowledge or desire to do a family with a lot of that sort of heritage. My family doesn't have much in the way of "heritage". Mostly it's English and Scottish and suchlike, but I can't think of any ways that's entered my life. As far as religion, our mother is pagan, grandmother is athiest, great-grand-generation is mormon, and I assume the mormons go back. But they don't go back that far, obviously; it's such a new religion. Didn't bring it over from another country. It's the American Religion (tm). And the only way my heritage is Mormon is that my mother goes out of her way to despise them, because she had to grow up with them, living in Utah. Anyway. Tangent. I do that.

Merilyn, let's spin the dice a few more times. Stefanie? So many names are unusable because I know people with that name, but if I have never known anyone with that name I might also avoid it, because it seems too rare or strange. Audrey? spin spin. Clara, Marianne, Rose, Alison, Sylvia, Lynne keeps coming up, that's nice but everyone who read it would think of Lynn in a system we know. Melissa, that's solid and common. Charlotte, Angela, Shannon, Tara, Valerie, names coming out of the walls. Ciara, Lissa, Leda, Gemma, Stella. So many names. Let's look at a site with meaning. Hm, Marianne means bitter. I wonder what else means bitter? Wow, Malia. I think ex girlfriends are not allowed. Also Mara, Marisha, all forms of Marilyn (oh, I guess that's what Merilyn is.... innnteresting.) Marlin is one. Marli, Marlo. Amorite means bitter AND a rebel. Anamari. Imrah - A rebel, waxing bitter, changing. wow. Marian. Meraioth, similar to Imrah. Lorna means alone. Deirdre means sad.

I'm leaning toward the Marianne/Marilyn series. I actually kind of like Merilyn, which was in the first random set we got. I like the meaning for Imrah, but it's not a very good name.

Aeryn pointed out that Merilyn sounds like Merlin, which I didn't even see. Darn it.

Amorite. Rather outlandish. Maybe I'm better off just picking one based on how it sounds...

I don't know, I don't know!

Maybe Dierdre. Aeryn likes that one. I don't know, it sounds too sad and slow and refined to me. I love the name, but i don't know if it's my character.

All right. Valerie. Perhaps we'll go with that. (After asking Aeryn her favorites.) How about Valerie Nesbitt?

It seems so final, to decide. But I have to decide sometime. Valerie means strength. (Nesbitt is apparently my great-grandmother's maiden name.) We'll just go with that. It's not life-or-death, after all.