From Loretta:
You may be asking yourself, “What’s she doing here again? Isn’t this Sunday? Doesn't she know what day it is? Or did I sleep through the week? If so, I want some more of those drugs. What day does she post, anyway?”
I’m still the new Thursday girl but today Edith is Otherwise Engaged, and I volunteered to step in, because for some reason, I seem to have more than usual to say this week and hardly had to steal any ideas at all, except from the perfectly legitimate Commenters Question Compendium.
To continue the discussion about naming things...
Maggie Robinson asked:
<<I have a question about book titles. How successful are you in naming your own books, or must you submit to editors' titles? Is it a group consensus thing? Have you ever had a title assigned to you that you absolutely hated? And since you Wenches are so prolific, can you remember all your titles? *g* >>
Titles can be another banging-your-head-against-the-wall experience.
It was easier in the beginning, as so much was. Ignorance--in this case, of commercial/marketing concerns--is bliss.
My sense now is that there was more leeway in titling the traditional Regencies, though this may have had more to do with my publisher at the time than the genre. My first two books, Isabella and The English Witch, came out under the original titles. The third, Viscount Vagabond, involved some discussion with my editor, as I recall. It may have started out as The Vagabond Viscount. But the last three, The Devil’s Delilah, Knaves’ Wager, and The Sandalwood Princess, appeared in the names I’d given them.
Things changed when I moved into historical romance. My original title for The Lion’s Daughter was The Black Queen. Because the plot revolved around this chess piece, see? That title idea was squelched on several counts, including its not “sounding like” a historical romance and the possible racial overtones (???!). I soon realized that the editor was absolutely right (she always was, actually), and racial overtones or not, the title would conjure a host of wrong meanings for potential book buyers.
I learned some funny things during the process of renaming. For one, the publisher liked titles with possessives. So titles containing an apostrophe s or an “of” had a better chance than those that didn’t. Titles focusing on the hero were preferred ...but not always. Captives of the Night started out as The Golden Prince. Well, that sounded to editors like a fantasy novel, so it was back to the drawing board, or baptismal font or whatever. And once we’d settled on Captives, I was delighted. It remains one of my favorite titles.
Lord of Scoundrels involved no discussions. The title, like the story, came to me without struggle, and proves that things that come easy aren’t necessarily inferior, because this book has proved popular.
The Last Hellion--another title I quite like--was not the original. It was Prince of Rogues. As I recall, at the time, the publisher wasn’t liking titles with the word “Prince” (see The Golden Prince, above). I am not sure whether this
had to do with the Artist Formerly Known as Prince and Is He Again? or a worry that readers would expect a medieval, or associate the name with large canines, but “Prince” wasn’t acceptable.
My first three Carsington books were with a different publisher. Either this or an improved naming ability may explain why they were published under the original titles, all of which I really liked, especially Mr. Impossible.
The naming ability petered out when it came to the book now known as Not Quite a Lady. I had a dozen titles, none of which satisfied me or anyone else. Example: The Truth About Charlotte. My agent suggested Not Quite a Lady, and this worked for everybody, even me...except for one little qualm. In 19th C England, either you’re a lady or you’re not. Lady Charlotte Hayward is a lady, and if she opened a bawdy house or took to highway robbery tomorrow, she’d still be a lady. But for American readers, “lady” has a different meaning, denoting behavior rather than a position in the social hierarchy. I did not raise this issue with those involved in the title discussion because I knew they would only groan (inwardly if not outwardly) at my excessive nerdiness. And it is a good title, suggesting exactly what it needs to suggest.
(So does the cover, I think--and anyone who’d like a free, signed cover flat need only send me a SASE. For details, please email me at Author@LorettaChase.com )
So in answer to your question, it’s mostly a group consensus thing, except when you nail it the first time. And sometimes the things that worry the editor or marketing department make you scratch your head. But I have found that in this case, as in, say, revisions and even--sometimes--the copy edit, it pays to listen and ponder even the suggestions that seem completely deranged. Once the Temperamental Artistic Ego simmers down, one sees the rhyme and reason. At the moment I can’t think of a time when editorial suggestions didn’t make for a better title or a better book. So the idea of “submitting” to an editorial or marketing command is alien to me. There is definitely a collaborative effort in the making of a book, and with very, very few exceptions, I’ve benefited from the wisdom of other members of the team.
Oh, and not being prolific, I can remember all the titles with no effort whatsoever.
Do titles matter to you when you’re choosing books? Have you ever bought one solely because the title was irresistible? Have you a favorite title? Are there books you’d re-title if you could?