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Domain Names

Every good .com is taken. Here is what actually works.

12 min readUpdated

You have a word. It describes what you are building, you like saying it, and it has been registered since 1998 by someone who has never built anything with it. This happens to everyone, and it is not a sign that you picked badly. It is arithmetic.

There are only so many pronounceable English words, and .com has been open for registration since 1985. Every common noun went years ago. Most two-word combinations of common nouns went too. What is left is not the leftovers of a bad search — it is a different category of name, and finding it means searching differently rather than searching harder.

This guide is the whole path: why the obvious variations are gone, how to build candidates that are not obvious, and how to tell the difference between a name that is merely free and a name worth owning.

Why searching harder does not work

The usual response to a taken domain is to try variations by hand. You add 'get', you add 'app', you try the plural, you try it with 'HQ' on the end. Twenty minutes later you have checked maybe thirty names and taken all of them.

The problem is not effort. It is that human variation is predictable, and predictable variations were registered first. 'getX.com' and 'Xapp.com' are the first things everybody tries, which is exactly why they are gone. You are walking the most crowded part of the space.

The names that remain available share a property: nobody thought of them, because they are not obvious derivations of a word anybody was looking for. That sounds like a dead end. It is actually the whole strategy.

First, decide what you actually liked about the word

Before you replace a name, work out why you wanted it. Suppose the word was 'Luma'. Maybe it is short. Maybe the 'lu' sound feels bright. Maybe two syllables are easy to say. Maybe it hints at light without describing the product. Those properties are what you are attached to. The four specific letters are not.

Write down three to five qualities you want to keep — something like: two or three syllables, obvious in English, soft rather than corporate, no hyphens or digits, broad enough to survive the product growing. Five lines of that is a naming brief, and a brief is searchable in a way that one unavailable string is not.

It also settles arguments later. When you are choosing between two candidates at the end and everyone in the room has a different instinct, the brief is the thing that says which instinct you agreed to follow.

The shape of a name that is still free

Look at names that were coined rather than found — Stripe, Vercel, Notion, Zapier, Figma. Some are real words used sideways. Others are constructed: a fragment of something meaningful, plus letters that make it say-able. None of them were found by typing a description of the product into a search box.

Constructed names have an enormous practical advantage. The space of real words is finite and exhausted. The space of pronounceable constructions is not. If you take a five-letter stem and add two letters on either side, you have thousands of candidates, and the overwhelming majority of them have never been registered by anyone.

The catch is that most of those thousands are unusable. 'Xkthrq' is available and always will be. So the real problem is not availability — it is generating constructions that a human can pronounce, spell after hearing once, and not feel embarrassed saying in a meeting. That is a question about what makes an invented name sayable, and it is worth answering before you check a single domain.

Start from a word you already care about

Pure random generation produces names with no anchor. They are available and forgettable. The better method keeps a word that means something to you and builds around it.

Say you are building something around the idea of 'place'. 'Place.com' is long gone. But the stem survives inside names that are not:

  • Prefix: a fragment before the word — 'unplace', 'displace' feel like real words because those prefixes carry meaning.
  • Suffix: letters after — 'placery', 'placeo', 'placent'. The stem stays legible and the ending gives it a shape.
  • Both: a small amount either side — 'aplacey'. Riskier, because two seams give two chances to sound wrong.

In each case the reader still hears 'place'. That is the point. A constructed name that contains a recognisable stem is remembered like a word, not like a licence plate. Which end the letters belong on is a real decision with different failure modes, covered in prefix, suffix, or both.

Change one sound at a time

Large jumps make it impossible to learn anything. If 'Navo' becomes 'Quenthar', you cannot tell which change helped. Small controlled moves are legible: alter the first consonant, then the final vowel, then one middle consonant, then the syllable count, then the ending.

Walk a root through a short sequence — Navo, Navio, Navora, Navexa, Enavo — and you can hear which direction keeps the personality of the original and which loses it. That is the difference between exploring and flailing.

Move one level away from the product

If every candidate is a synonym for what you sell, you are competing for the same handful of stems as everyone else in your category. Step outward: name the outcome instead of the function, or the metaphor instead of the mechanism. Invoicing software does not have to be named after invoices.

The other cheap expansion is syllables. Almost every two-syllable construction of common stems is gone; three-syllable constructions are a far emptier space and are no harder to say, provided the rhythm is regular. Adding a syllable usually costs less memorability than adding a hyphen.

The seam is where names go wrong

Join two fragments and the interesting thing happens at the join. Inside a real word, awkward letter runs are fine — 'functionality' contains 'nct' and nobody stumbles, because the word is familiar as a unit. At a seam, the same run is a wall.

Three rules cover most of it:

  1. Do not collide vowels across a join. 'a' + 'eventi' gives 'aeventi', which nobody can spell after hearing it.
  2. Do not stack more than two consonants at the join. Inside a word your ear forgives it; at a seam it stops the name dead.
  3. Do not repeat the same letter across the join unless the doubling is a pattern English already has. 'll' and 'ss' read fine; 'kk' does not.

These are not aesthetic preferences. They decide whether somebody can hear your name in a podcast and type it correctly, which is the only test that matters commercially.

A modifier is a real option, with a real cost

Sometimes the cleanest answer is not an invented word at all. A short modifier keeps your brand name intact and produces an address that is available: get-, try-, use-, join- in front, or -labs, -studio, -works, -hq behind.

This works best when the brand matters more than the address — an early product whose customers will arrive from a link rather than by typing. Plenty of well-known companies launched this way.

The cost is permanent and worth naming. If people come to know you as 'Navo', some of them will type navo.com, and navo.com belongs to somebody else. You will lose a fraction of your direct traffic forever, you will spell the address out on every phone call, and if the company succeeds you will one day be negotiating to buy the name you skipped. None of that is fatal. It is simply the price, and it should be a decision rather than an accident.

Do not solve availability by making the name painful

When a checker keeps returning red, there is a temptation to keep adding things until it finally turns green. That produces a predictable set of names: very long phrases, clever misspellings, a doubled letter with no reason to be doubled, a digit standing in for a word, two hyphens.

ICANN's own materials describe what an ordinary domain label may contain — letters, digits and hyphens. That tells you what the system permits, not what a customer can carry in their head. Registerable and memorable are different standards, and only one of them shows up in your traffic.

The test to apply is narrow: can somebody hear the whole address once, in a sentence, and type it correctly? Every hyphen, every digit and every unexpected spelling is one more instruction the listener has to remember. A name that needs a spelling correction is a name that costs you something every day it exists.

Change the brand, or change the address?

There are only two ways out of a taken domain, and it helps to see them side by side rather than drifting into one of them.

ApproachWhat you keepWhat it costs
Modify the brandAn exact-match address; one identity everywhereThe original word, and whatever attachment you had to it
Modify the addressThe brand name you wantedDirect traffic, spoken clarity, and a purchase you may make later

Neither wins universally. A distinctive brand with a clean exact-match .com is the strongest combination available, so if a small change to the word buys you that, it is usually the better trade. If the word is genuinely load-bearing — a personal name, an established reputation, a term your customers already use for you — then keeping it and accepting a modifier is the rational choice.

Check availability properly, or you will fall in love with a taken name

There is a specific kind of heartbreak where you settle on a name, design a logo, and discover on registration day that it was never free. It usually comes from checking availability the fast, wrong way.

A DNS lookup tells you whether a domain resolves to a server. That is not the same question. Plenty of registered domains do not resolve: parked names, names held by investors, names whose owner never set them up. Ask DNS and every one of those looks free.

The authoritative answer comes from the registry itself, over RDAP — the protocol that replaced WHOIS. It answers the actual question: does a registration record exist. Anything that reports availability without consulting the registry is guessing, and it guesses in the direction that disappoints you later. What a domain checker actually knows goes through the three answers a tool can give and how much each is worth.

Compare a shortlist instead of hoping about one name

Checking names individually invites you to get attached. You type one in, it is free, and you have already started imagining the logo before you have seen the alternatives.

Generating a hundred at once and checking the batch changes the psychology. You are picking from a shortlist rather than hoping about a single candidate. Names that felt clever in isolation look ordinary next to forty siblings, which is useful information you cannot get any other way.

Once five to ten candidates survive, compare them on the same axes rather than one at a time, and write the scores down. What you are looking for is not the candidate with one brilliant quality — it is the candidate you do not have to make excuses for.

Score each survivor

  • Can a stranger pronounce it from the spelling?
  • Can a stranger spell it from hearing it?
  • Is it still in your head tomorrow morning?
  • Does it fit the personality you wrote in the brief?
  • Does it still work if the product grows past its first feature?
  • Could it be confused with an existing company in your market?

It also means you keep a second and third choice. When the trademark search kills your favourite — and sometimes it does — you are not starting over.

Timing: late enough to think, early enough to avoid wasted work

There are two bad extremes. Checking availability after every single idea turns the exercise into a slot machine: you end up optimising for what is free rather than deciding what is good. Checking nothing until the logo is drawn and the name is announced is worse.

The order that wastes least: choose a direction, generate a large candidate set, throw out everything unpronounceable, then check what survives. Availability belongs late enough that it is a filter on quality rather than a substitute for it.

When to stop defending the original word

Keeping a word you like is a good default, not a rule. There is a point where the original idea stops generating options and starts constraining them, and it is recognisable: every remaining variation is worse than the last, you are defending candidates rather than liking them, and the honest description of your favourite is 'the least bad one that was free'.

There is a second signal worth taking seriously. If the exact .com belongs to an active company doing something adjacent to what you do, the domain is the smaller problem — you would be building a brand that competes for its own name in search results. That is a reason to change direction rather than to keep hunting for a spelling that squeezes past.

If neither of those is true, the constraint is doing its job. Working inside it is how most good names get made.

Before you register, three checks that are not availability

The domain being free is necessary and not sufficient. Three things routinely sink an available name:

  • Trademark. A free domain says nothing about whether somebody owns the mark. Search your own jurisdiction's register and the EUIPO or USPTO before committing.
  • The say-it-out-loud test. Read it to somebody over the phone and have them type it. If you say 'no, one L', the name will cost you traffic every day it exists.
  • What it means elsewhere. A constructed name is a fresh string in every language on earth, and occasionally it is a rude one. A search takes a minute.

None of the three takes long, and each of them is cheaper now than after the packaging is printed. From shortlist to registered works through them properly, including what a trademark search can and cannot tell you.

In short

The available names are not worse names. They are differently shaped names, and the ones worth having are constructions that keep a stem you care about, join cleanly, and survive being read aloud.

Frequently asked questions

Is it a bad sign that my first-choice .com is taken?

No. Common English words went in the 1990s, and most two-word combinations of common words went shortly after. A taken first choice is the normal starting condition, not evidence that you chose badly.

Should I add a hyphen or a number to get the .com I want?

Both work technically, and both move a decision onto the customer: they now have to remember where the hyphen went, or whether the number was a digit or a word. Compare the hyphenated version against a clean invented variation before settling.

Is a longer available name worse than a short taken one?

Not on length alone. A seven-letter name with two obvious syllables is easier to say and type than a five-letter abbreviation nobody can pronounce.

Should I just use a different extension instead?

It is a legitimate answer, and for some businesses the right one. It is also a pricing decision rather than a prestige one, because several popular alternatives cost multiples of .com to renew — see .com, .io, or something else.

How quickly should I register a name once it comes back free?

Once you have done the checks you consider necessary, immediately. An availability result is a snapshot rather than a reservation, and waiting buys you nothing.

Sources

These support factual background only. The guide itself is original writing, and nothing here should be read as legal advice.

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