CompoundNouns

If the names are infrequent they don't bother me. If there are tons of them, it begins to grate on me after a while.

I think having a few is realistic: after all, Plexiglass, Kleenex and Hoover are all brand names that are now so common they are the default name for any item of the type, or in the case of "Hoover" it has become a verb (at least in the UK-- I'm not sure if it's used that way in the US).

Aerial

I agree with Aerial as long as its not overused (cyberpunk is famous for this conceit) than it is fine. It is common for English to create new words by the use of compound nouns (ebook, Ipad etc.). For me, the habit of fantasy novels to have names that are twenty-six letters long is far more annoying.

Compound terms can be overused, but they are a device I've seen going back to 1950's fiction from Andre Norton and other classic writers. If they fit the story and don't parse awkwardly, I'm fine with them.

I wonder if the aversion to long names in fantasy is mostly limited to English speakers? Dare I say it, to English speakers from cultural backgrounds accustomed to short proper names for people and places? In real life-reading of French, Dutch, German, Japanese and many other languages, I'm exposed to long compound-syllable names, and those doesn't bother me.

Names with apostrophes stuck randomly between syllables -- now that grinds my gears.

YES. Compound words in SF/fantasy drive me batty, even when they're not brand names. A "credchip" is just as bad as a "CredChip."

Part of what's so annoying about it is that it lacks verisimilitude. In the real (English-speaking*) world, people don't use complex compound words with the frequency they're used in fiction. We abbreviate. "CredChip" becomes a simple "chip," "NanoLenses" become "lenses" or "nanos" or whatever, and so on.

Which isn't to say that all compound words should be reduced to single words. No one calls microwaves "micros" or sunglasses "suns" or "glasses." Some words, for various reasons, resist truncation. Sometimes the description is necessary; many people wear regular glasses, and sunglasses have a discrete function. We even designate "prescription sunglasses" to indicate that they perform two functions.

It's important to think of common use, which would weed out redundant or unnecessarily descriptive compound terms like "credchip." Is there another type of currency, or any type of chip used in similar transactions with which we might confuse this?

And while some name brands do get irrevocably associated with products (e.g. Dumpster), we also often call a thing by its function. Look at the netbook: originally they were called "subcompact laptops," "subnotebooks," etc., but they became so intrinsically associated with their function that the company that originally trademarked the term "netbook" finally gave it up due to popular demand.

Where SF/fantasy authors often fail, IMO, is in moderating the amount of compound terms in use and in postulating realistic usage patterns. When they get it wrong, it's obvious—it rings false and stands out. There's also the matter of choosing when to use a term because it adds to understanding the otherness of a world, enriches the narrative, etc., or when to simply describe a function.

The type of prose that rarely works for me: "I paid for it with my CredChip™. The clerk winked at me, and her eyes were so blue I wondered if they were enhanced by NanoLenses™."

It reeks of tourism, showiness, artificiality. The otherness is over-described and given undue focus. Unless NanoLenses are a plot point, the description is excessive.

Contrast: "I paid for it. The clerk winked at me, and her eyes were so blue I wondered if they were real."

This narrator has internalized concepts like nano enhancement. They don't need to remind themselves of the difference between nature and nanotech, because it's something they encounter on a daily basis. To me, this reads much more believably; it's a lived-in universe without the unpleasant tourist flavor.

* I'm curious if this holds true for other languages.

I don't think this is only an SF issue. I think it's a good-writing issue.

Future manufacturers are not all going to use compound names for their products any more than manufacturers do now. Some will, no doubt, and more will not.

Future humans will do as we do now, reference brand names only when they matter to us. Some become generic terms, like Popsicles, Legos, and Kleenex are now, although whether they'd remain proper nouns, who knows? Others which were or are generic terms won't be any more. (My youngest beta, mid-20s, noted that Levi's is no longer considered the generic term for all blue denim jeans, and to let my characters just call them jeans, for cryin' out loud.)

Some brand names will be shortened for convenience by those saying it (think AmEx for American Express) or out of fondness (Mickey D's for McDonald's).

But most brand names in the future will be like brand names now, rarely thought of or mentioned, just a part of life's background.

Maryn, thinking Leah nailed it

Xelebes said:

Hoover in North America refers to a type of sound - the arcing sweeps of a rough-sounding string-horn.

ala the track "Dominator"

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Really? When you say "North America", what regions are you refering to? Or is this something specific to a certain musical subculture?

The only meaning I'm familiar with is the vacuuming verb, although that's not everyday speech for anyone I know.

Torgo said:

Is it just me who is allergic to this? More broadly, does anyone else find that bad brand / gadget names in SF bother them?

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It's annoying, and amateur.

It's one of the things I've heard writers ranging from Charlie Stross to Bill Gibson say Don't Do.

Medievalist said:

It's annoying, and amateur.

It's one of the things I've heard writers ranging from Charlie Stross to Bill Gibson say Don't Do.

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It depends on the feel of the book, for me. In some cyberpunk novels, it makes complete sense. But in other SF, it can be really annoying.