Entitlement Or The Lack Thereof

AKA: Title? Title? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Title.

My editor and I have fallen into quite a comfy pattern. I email her 88 different title possibilities (generally one title with an additional 87 variations) and she emails back to say No 88 times (generally one time with  an additional 87 variations).

I then email her a whole new title with only 37 variations (notice, all these variations are prime numbers- I love prime numbers), and she emails back 3 possible titles with 5 variations each, which is, of course, her way of saying No!

So I email back No! 15 times (which is my way of saying No!) and send her a few new, even more splendid title possibilities, and I never hear from her again.

It's funny. For years and years and dozens and dozens of versions, the fourth moon book was known as The Shade Of The Moon. Then my editor expressed some reservations about the title, and the next thing I knew I was hosting a poll on what version of Shade/Shadow you all preferred.

Then I began begging you to come up with a title for me. Then I started coming up with titles on my own.

The next thing I knew I was no longer hearing from my editor.

This morning, while exercycling, I came up with a perfectly wonderful title that has nothing to do with the book so it's of no use to me, but one of you might like it for something you're writing:

When We In Death Awaken

Isn't that gorgeous?  I liked it so much, I wrote a poem:

When we in death awaken
To the smell of burning bacon

Here's what might happen with The Great Untitled:

My editor and I figure out a title we both like.

We call it The Shade Of The Moon and forget this whole business.

For lack of a title, the book never gets published, but I get to keep the money anyway (not that I've seen the money, but a girl can dream)

We go the Robert Benchley route:


With all that volcanic ash floating around, 50 Shades Of Grey would work just fine!