TITLES GOOD AND BAD

titles good and bad

TITLES GOOD AND BAD

Too often the novice considers the title of his story a matter of no

import. He looks upon it as a mere handle, the result of some happy

afterthought, affixed to the completed story for convenience or

reference, just as numbers are placed on the books in a library. The

title is really a fair test of what it introduces, and many a story has

been justly condemned by its title alone; for the editor knows that a

poor title usually means a poor story. Think, too, how often you

yourself pass a story by with but a casual glance, because its title

does not interest you: experience has shown you that you seldom enjoy

reading a story which bears an unattractive title.

"A book's name often has an astonishing influence on its first sale. A

title that piques curiosity or suggests excitement or emotion will draw

a crowd of readers the moment it appears, while a book soberly named

must force its merits on the public. The former has all the advantage of

a pretty girl over a plain one; it is given an instantaneous chance to

prove itself worthwhile. A middle aged, unalluring title ('In Search of

Quiet, ' for instance) may frighten people away from what proves to be a

mine of wit and human interest. A book headed by a man's name unmodified

and uncommented upon--such as 'Horace Chase'--is apt to have a dreary,

unprepossessing air, unless the name is an incisive one that suggests an

interesting personality. Fragments of proverbs and poems are always

attractive, as well as Biblical phrases and colloquial expressions, but

the magic title is the one that excites and baffles curiosity. The

publishers of a recent 'Primer of Evolution' received a sudden flood of

orders for the book simply on account of a review which had spoken of it

under the sobriquet, 'From Gas to Genius. ' Many copies were indignantly

returned when the true title was revealed. An auther gave

to the press a volume entitled 'The Planetary and Stellar Worlds. ' The

book fell dead from the press. The publisher complained bitterly of this

to a friend, saying, 'I have not sold a single copy. ' 'Well, ' was the

reply, 'you have killed the book by its title. Why not call it "The

Orbs of Heaven"?' The hint was accepted and acted upon, and 6, 000 copies

were sold in a month. "

The title might almost be called the "text" of the story; it should be

logically deduced from the plot; so a poor title usually indicates a

poor plot and a poor story. This name line should grow out of the phase

of the plot, rather than the basic theme, else it will be too abstract

and general. It is so closely allied to the plot that they should be

born synchronously--or if anything the title should precede the plot;

for the story is built up around the central thought that the title

expresses, much as Poe said he wrote "The Raven" about the word

"nevermore. " At least, the title should be definitely fixed long before

the story is completed, and often before it has taken definite form in

the writer's mind. That this is the practice of professional writers may

be proved by a glance at the literary column of any periodical, where

coming books are announced by title when scarcely a word of them has

been written. So if you have difficulty in finding an appropriate title

for your story, first examine your plot, and make sure that the cause

does not lie there. In case you are unable to decide among a number of

possible titles, anyone of which might do, you may find that your plot

lacks the definiteness of impression; but a

fertile intellect may suggest a number of good titles, from which your

only difficulty is to select the best.

A good story may be given a bad title by its author, and so started

toward failure. Novices are peculiarly liable to this fault, usually

through allowing themselves to be too easily satisfied. They go to

infinite pains to make the story itself fresh and individual, and then

cap it with a commonplace phrase that is worse than no title at all. A

good title is apt, specific, attractive, new, and short.

A title is apt if it is an outgrowth of the plot--a text, as I have

said. It stands definitely for that particular story, and gives a

suggestion of what is to come--but only a suggestion, lest it should

anticipate the denouement and so satisfy the curiosity of the reader too

soon. An apt title excites and piques the curiosity almost as much as

does the story itself. Examples: Hawthorne's "The Wedding Knell;" Poe's

"'Thou Art the Man!'" Wilkins' "The Revolt of Mother. " Each of these

titles conveys an idea, though a vague one, of the theme of the story,

and so its aptness is apparent; but frequently the relevancy of the

title is evident only after the story has been read, as in the case of

James' "The Real Thing" and "The Lesson of the Master. " Such a title is

almost ideal. This suspension of aptness, carried to the extreme,

produces such vague and weak titles as:

"Happiness Won. "

"Almost Too Late. "

"After All. "

"Reorganized. "

The title must be specific or it is seldom apt. It is in this particular

that the novice generally fails. He deduces his title rather from the

original plot, or even from the theme, than from the particular phase

which he presents; but its title should distinguish his story from the

host of tales builded upon the same basic plot, just as the first

name of a man distinguishes him from the rest of the family of

which he is a member. Thus we have such titles as the following, which

are more appropriate for essays in psychology, moral philosophy, or some

kindred subject, than for fiction:

"How Dreams Come True. "

"Moral Vision. "

"Sorrow and Joy. "

"The Straight Path. "

More often the unspecific title is simply a vague reference to the

general style of the story:

"A Wedding in a Texas Jail. "

"A Frightful Night Ride. "

"A Unique Rescue. "

"A Lynching Incident. "

"Nature's Freaks. "

"A Valuable Discovery. "

"The Widow. "

"A Valued Relic. "

"A Strange Case. "

"The Old Clock. "

"The Office Boy. "

None of these titles represents any definite idea, and in nearly every

case it served to introduce a story which was equally vague, ordinary,

and uninteresting. Several of them, too--notably the first four--were

not stories at all, but were simply bits of Description by narrative,

as their titles would suggest.

In general a phrase, otherwise indefinite, becomes specific when united

with the name of a character, as in Hawthorne's "Howe's Masquerade" and

"Lady Eleanor's Mantle;" but such titles are usually ordinary and

unattractive. Some words frequently found in these compound titles are

so vague in meaning or so worn from use that their total avoidance is

the only safe course. Such are "Christmas, " "Adventure, " "Romance, "

"Story, " "Vision, " and "Dream. " A "Dream" or a "Vision" is usually the

relation of some commonplace incident with absurd adornments; and an

"Adventure" is more often a piece of Description than of narration. I

know that these words may be found in combination in many happy titles,

but it is best that the novice let them severely alone. That such titles

are really a serious impediment to the success of their stories is shown

by the action of the Chicago _Record_. For some years it was the custom

of the _Record_ to offer substantial cash prizes for the best Christmas

stories written by school children; and prominent among the rules

governing the competition was the announcement that stories bearing

such titles as "Johnnie's Christmas, " "Nellie's Christmas, " "Mary's

Christmas, " would not even be read. The following titles show how

fond is the novice of these objectionable words in their baldest

combinations:

"Sarah's Christmas Present. "

"Adventures with a Bear. "

"Nettie's Romance. "

"Lee's Romance. "

"A Woman's Love Story. "

"The Captain's Story. "

"A True Story. "

"The Story of a Vision. "

"The Dream at Sea. "

"Viola's Dream. "

"Mabel's Dream. "

"Eleanor's Dream. "

The title should be attractive because it will be the test of the

story, and it must be sufficiently interesting to arouse at a glance

the curiosity of the reader, and induce in him a desire to peruse the

narrative that it offers. Commonplaceness is the chief cause of the

unattractive title, and that fault is usually traceable to the plot

itself. It may, however, be due to a conventional expression of the

dominant idea of the story, as in the list just given; and also in

the following:

"How Amy Won the Prize. "

"Fred Norton, the Artist. "

Or it may be unattractive through comprising only the name of the chief

character:

"Lucy Bonneville. "

"Lester Rice. "

The use of a name for a title is a matter which it is difficult to

settle. If the story is dominated by one character, and particularly if

it is a genuine _Character Study_, the writer naturally feels that he

cannot do better than to name it after the character it depicts; and he

has good authority for so doing in the example of Poe ("Berenice, "

"Elenora, " "Morella"), Hawthorne ("Sylph Etherege, " "Ethan Brand, "

"Wakefield"), Irving ("Wolfert Webber, " "Rip Van Winkle"), James ("Sir

Dominic Ferrand, " "Nona Vincent, " "Greville Fane"), Stevenson ("Olalla, "

"Thrawn Janet, " "Markheim"), Wilkins ("Louisa"), Davis ("Gallegher, "

"Cinderella"), Kipling ("Lispeth, " "Namgay Doola"), etc., etc. A good

rule to observe would be this: If the name of the chief personage gives

a hint of character, or if it is sufficiently unusual to attract

attention, it may be used as a title; but in general it will be stronger

if used in combination.

That a title should be new is so obvious that offenses against this

rule are usually unconscious; yet in some cases stories have been

capped with stolen headings, where the theft was so apparently

intentional that it seemed as if the writer wished to fail. Lapses in

this regard are usually due to the writer's ignorance of the value of

a title; or to the too ready use of the abstract theme, as mentioned

before. Of such titles are "All's Well that Ends Well, " "Love's Labor

Lost, " and "The Irony of Fate, " all of which are great favorites with

the beginner. Like charity, they will cover a multitude of sins, but

they constitute so great a literary sin in themselves that they

should be rigorously eschewed.

To illustrate further these several points I introduce here a few good

titles used by successful short story writers. They are roughly divided

into three classes according to their derivation. The title may be the

text of the story:

Edgeworth: "Murad the Unlucky. "

Hawthorne: "The Wedding Knell;" "The Prophetic Pictures. "

James: "The Real Thing;" "The Lesson of the Master. "

Poe: "The Masque of the Red Death;" "'Thou Art the Man!'"

Stockton: "The Transferred Ghost. "

Wilkins: "The Revolt of Mother;" "Two Old Lovers. "

The title may represent the principal character by name or by some apt

appellation:

Davis: "Gallegher. "

Hawthorne: "The Ambitious Guest;" "Feathertop. "

Irving: "The Spectre Bridegroom;" "Rip Van Winkle. "

Poe: "Morella;" "Ligeia. "

Stevenson: "Markheim. "

Wilkins: "A Modern Dragon;" "A Kitchen Colonel. "

The title may mention the principal object:

Adee: "The Life Magnet. "

Burnett: "The Spider's Eye. "

Hawthorne: "The Great Stone Face;" "The Great Carbuncle. "

James: "The Aspern Papers. "

Kipling: "The Phantom Rickshaw. "

Poe: "The Black Cat;" "The Gold Bug. "

Stevenson: "The Bottle Imp. "