A Rose By Any Other Name...

Wouldn't smell as sweet.
My dear sister and I were discussing Shakespeare's Observance, and she didn't agree. She thought that a rose smells wonderful in part because roses are supposed to smell wonderful. She made the impression that their reputations precede them, so whether or not Roses really smell good at all is unimportant. Some one who had never smelt a rose before would expect it to be sweet-smelling because everyone knows roses smell absolutely delicious, so even before their first inhaling, a person would already be expecting a rose to smell sweet.
I'm using this as a reference to the names of Characters in books. I got on the idea of the effect of a character's name on how the reader perceives them after looking up babynames.com in their writers' section. I am a hobbyist writer myself and use Baby Names as a common source for christening characters. They give tips on what you should base names on and having them correct as far as gender, ethnicity, and time period goes, as well as being memorable. Everyone remembers Frodo & Sam. The names just roll off your tongue and stick in your mind like bubble gum in braces.
No one wants to read a name like John or Jane. Eck. Ew. Grody. No. Boring. But names like Katniss, Hermione, Vesper Holly--those are the kind of names you find no where else and remember.
On the flip side, I like to play with normal names given to normal characters: names that are so normal, they're almost abnormal. Or better yet, take a normal name and play with the vowels and consonants till it's completely original.
I once took a regular name e.g. Richard and played with similar consonant sounds until I got something simple, but new, e.g. Wickard.
Names label characters with connotations and stereotypes, just like children on a playground: Chuck sounds simple-minded or overweight; Courtney and Brittany sound like ditsy blond cheerleaders; Jack is edgy or rebellious; Josh is a pretty-boy, while Joshua is either old-fashioned or rich and posh. Visual imagery begins the second a reader hears a character's name.
In short, don't name your kid Eugene.