On the Naming of Things
Normally I’d reveal this kind of news with some extravagant gala event, and a big spinning podium with a curtain drawn all the way around it and booth babes and whatnot. But I loaned my spinning podium to a friend and he hasn’t brought it back yet. And my lady, yyyyeah, she’s not too keen on the booth babes thing.
But anyway, those of you who’ve been following me for a little while will know that I’ve been wrestling with the notion of a series title for, oh, around about eight frackin’ months now. I know it seems to be the norm to just name your series after the first book nowadays, but where’s the masochism in that?
I totally understand why so many people do it – because coming up with titles is hard. Series titles are even worse, because if you screw it up, you’re stuck with it for three, four, twelve books. I mean, just imagine if George R.R Martin had called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ something like ‘Every Single Character You’re Remotely Fond of is Going To Die’. Would it be selling squintillions around the globe? Maybe not. Although Pete Dinklage might have remembered to thank him in his Emmy acceptance speech at least. (Oooooh, wicked burn)
Titles have gravitas. A series title is supposed to say something about every book within it – to sum up tomes that the author in all likelihood hasn’t even written yet. To spell out the meta-plot of your X00,000 word opus in barely a handful. Plus, your editors need to like it too, and they do this word thing for a living and can sometimes be hard to please.
But, we got there. Without further ado, rotating podiums or scantily clad wenches, and because the first thing you probably did after you read the post title was to scroll down to the bright shiny pic at the end anyway, I give you: