Should You Make Up Names for Your Fantasy Book? Maybe Not. Try the ATM Model Instead.
Izaic Yorks

Let's talk names.
In fantasy, names carry weight. They can whisper ancient power, hint at a forgotten lineage, or make your reader pause and think, yeah, this world is different. Think Frodo. Gandalf. Daenerys. All distinct. All invented.
But unless you moonlight as a linguist—or you’re secretly Tolkien reincarnated—creating fantasy names from scratch can get messy.
The question is: do you need to invent names to write a great fantasy story?
You can. That’s not in doubt. But there's a smarter, more grounded way to give your characters and places names that feel rich and real—without building a language from scratch. I call it the ATM Model: Arc, Tradition, Meaning.
Stick with me. It’s simple. It’s powerful. And yes, it still leaves plenty of room for creativity.
What’s So Hard About Made-Up Names?
Creating names from thin air feels like a rite of passage for fantasy authors. And sometimes, yeah—it works. A unique name can set the tone fast: otherworldly, mysterious, untouchable. It drops the reader into a universe that isn’t Earth, and that’s part of the genre’s charm.
But here’s what I’ve seen happen again and again (and have 100% done myself in early drafts):
The names get clunky. Strings of consonants and apostrophes. Xz’kthar. L’truunj. They look alien—but they’re also hard to say. Readers skip them or dread seeing them pop up again.
They lack emotional weight. Sure, “Zevrynthal” sounds cool. But what does it mean?
They’re time-sinks. Inventing a consistent naming system takes effort—effort that might be better spent refining your plot or writing that next chapter.
Unless you're deeply invested in conlanging (constructed language creation), made-up names can end up feeling flat or even—let’s be real—kind of cringe.
Tolkien pulled it off because he spent decades as a philologist. He didn’t just invent names—he invented the grammar that birthed those names. For most of us, that’s just... not the move.
The ATM Model: A Naming Framework That Actually Works
The ATM Model isn’t about throwing out creativity. It’s about focusing it. It helps you name characters (or even cities and spells) in a way that’s pronounceable, rooted in meaning, and tied to the emotional heartbeat of your story.
Here’s the breakdown:
Arc
What’s your character’s journey? Are they a coward who becomes a hero? A prince who loses everything? A warrior who chooses peace? A name that mirrors or foreshadows that arc instantly adds narrative weight.
Tradition
Choose a real-world culture, language family, or historical era that fits your world’s tone. If your setting has a Viking vibe, dig into Norse or Old English. If it's desert-based, Arabic or Persian names might align. The point isn’t to copy—it’s to borrow textures.
Meaning
Names should mean something. If your hero is all about rebirth, find a name that means “phoenix” or “dawn.” If your antagonist sees themselves as justice incarnate, maybe look for names meaning “balance” or “sword.”
When all three layers align—arc, tradition, meaning—the result is a name that feels inevitable, like it could only belong to that character.
A Real Example (Because Theory Is Boring Alone)
Let’s say you’re writing a story about a quiet academic who’s forced into leadership after a war wipes out the old guard. Their story is about courage, stepping up, and carrying the weight of others.
Arc: From timid scholar to courageous leader
Tradition: Anglo-Saxon—fits a gritty, trad medieval setting.
Meaning: “Bold friend”
A quick search yields Baldwin. It rolls off the tongue. It’s grounded.
Want to make it more fantasy-ish? You tweak it: Baldwyn, Baldan, Baelwyn. A subtle change. Now it sounds unique and meaningful.
Why This Approach Wins (Over and Over Again)
It sounds real. Readers pick up on rhythm, even subconsciously. A name like “Eirik” or “Sahar” carries an echo of real culture. It feels lived-in, even if the world is made up.
It’s easier to pronounce. That means less stumbling. Less skipping. More immersion.
It adds subtext. Readers who look up your character’s name meaning? Easter egg unlocked. That kind of layering builds loyalty.
It saves you time. You can spend hours inventing names—or you can research and find something grounded in an afternoon, then tweak it.
It avoids the cringe trap. No one wants their epic villain sounding like a rejected Pokémon evolution. The ATM model helps avoid that.
Let’s Be Honest: You’re Not Tolkien (And That’s Fine)
Tolkien was a one-in-a-century worldbuilder. His background in languages shaped every name he crafted. Galadriel didn’t just sound elegant—it meant “maiden crowned with a radiant garland” in a language he built from scratch.
If that excites you? Go nuts. But most writers I know don’t have five years to construct a language family tree before naming their protagonist.
The ATM model gives you similar depth, without requiring a linguistics degree.
How to Actually Use the ATM Model (Quick Guide
Sketch your character’s arc. Boil it down to a sentence. “They go from to?")
Pick a cultural flavor. What tradition fits your world or tone? Slavic? Celtic? Berber?
Research real names. Sites like Behind the Name are gold mines. Look for meanings that reflect your arc.
Say it out loud. Seriously. Some names look cool and sound awful. Don’t skip this step.
Modify it if needed. Tweak spelling. Merge two names. Cut a syllable. Make it yours.
And you’re done. You’ve got a name that sings.
Final Thoughts
Should you make up names? Sure. If you love it, go for it. But if you’re struggling—if every new name sounds like a bad Scrabble hand—the ATM model could be your best friend.
Start with meaning. Anchor it in tradition. Tie it to your character’s arc.
You’ll end up with names that aren’t just cool but fit just right.
And your readers?
They’ll feel it, even if they don’t know why.
