What's in a Name?

It's Monday! Time for some True Confessions: I stink at titles.

I'm also not so great at naming characters either, but that's a different post. I was able to name my two daughters, but that's where my naming abilities took a powder. I didn't even name the cat.

Some of you guys, however, are just the opposite. You pop out creative, snappy titles... just like that!

I'd share one a bloggy friend off-handedly told me over the weekend, but I don't know if she's keeping it a secret for now. But it's fantastic. I want to steal it and write my own book around it!

A writer-friend from way back who lived in New York and worked with Hollywood types told me how he'd written a screenplay about a pedophile stalking a kid using the Internet.

It was a thriller in which the villain set up a fake email account and was slowly closing in on his victim. The title? You've Got Mail. And he envisioned that old voice-greeting becoming the sound of intense, paralyzing, scream-smothering fear... 

He later sold it to Warner Bros. for something like $20,000 so they could use it for a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan joint. Isn't that fun?

The point: Titles matter.

Some of you are so good, you even title all your chapters! That thought makes me shudder.

Remember the game about finding your stripper name? Take the name of your childhood pet and combine it with the street you grew up on...

Mine's Rusty Amerest.

And that's about how I feel about titles--Rusty.

Last year, when I was shopping my YA romcom, I can't tell you how many times I was told, "You should fix that title. It sounds paranormal."

What was it? Shadow Falls. (It was the town where the story occurred!)

I started going through titles of very popular books or stories. Romeo & Juliet is just the name of the two main characters. And Twilight? It's just a time of day. Even Carrie. Again, main character's name. Harry Potter?

OK, "The Deathly Hallows" is pretty good. Even "The Order of the Phoenix." But hey--those are just places in the story. (Like Shadow Falls!)

Can anybody help a sistah out? Any title games you play or exercises to get you in a titular kind of mood? Spill! I'm in need of assistance.

Have a great week, reader- and writer-friends! Til Thursday~ <3

But what about Vincent?

Ah, L O S T. (This is a non-spoiler post!)

I know, overseas readers are still leading up to the finale, but over here.... well, we're still discussing it. My hotmail account is smokin, and not because it's possessed by unLocke. Last week, everyone was lamenting how much they were going to miss our weekly email debates.

LTM: Umm... guys? We're still debating.

So I have many questions. All of which I will take off the blog to avoid spoiling--except for my title, of course.

JRM reads all the spoiler sites, but I personally hate them. I don't want to know! I want to enjoy the journey.

(What? Did I just say that after harshing on Ms. Meyer for being so long-winded? I did! I am not a read-the-last-page-of-the-book-first girl. I like seeing how the story unfolds. I just prefer if it doesn't require 799 pages. OK, if it's working, I can deal. But I do get irritable if I have to skim. All those words have to be there for a reason... don't they?)

As for today's blog, a reader-friend told me the Lagniappe ran a feature Sunday on all the silly names we've got running for office around here. Not keeping up with Mobile County politics, I was not aware they have a Young Boozer running for treasurer across the bay.

My friend was giggling as she told me this saying how she supposed that made his dad Old Boozer. And concluded that he most likely came from a long line of Boozers...

LTM: They're invited to the party.

Today was awards day at the elementary school. It was great seeing so many smiling faces, but by far the smile that made me happiest was on the face of little Anne Claire Dismukes. She was there (looking like nothing ever happened) to get her set of first-grade achievement awards, and as I watched her bounce across the gym and noticed all the faces in the audience smiling back at her, I thought, "She belongs to all of us a little bit now."

Miracle girl.

So wow. Summer's here, and the family's all in town. This has been one long, trippy school year. My "boss" at the school board commented, "I'll be happy to close the book on SY2009-10."

I don't know. No doubt, it was a challenging year. But being the eternal optimist, I can't help thinking about how much we've learned and grown together.

Yeah, that's all fine and good, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to an amazing summer in which little girls stay healthy, oil spills are cleaned and plugged, and dogs aren't...  (poof! L O S T logo.)

What's in a Name?

As if to reinforce my belief that all natives of this area are descended from folks "on the lam," we have a Twinkle running for county commissioner.

Add that to the Pickle that ran for mayor, the Duck in my church choir, the Clouds we bought our house from, the other Pickle in my church choir, the Koors who live across the street, the Ronks who used to live next door, the Barefoots who live down the way, the Outlaw I used to work with, and my friend-neighbor who liked her last name so much, she married a guy with the same last name.

JRM: She's like Sirhan Sirhan.
LTM: Only without all the killing.

So I'm shopping Brand New Novel, right? Well, before I pitched it to agents, I let some of my reader friends take a look. As usual, they've been so helpful in providing feedback--Kindles for all if/when it sells. One pointed out that I'd called a main character the wrong name in a certain spot.

Can I just say (again) I really am terrible when it comes to names?

When I'm meeting folks at a party or whatever, I chalk it up to my being a "visual learner." Somebody told me that once (they shared my affliction), and I thought it was a fabulous excuse for why I'll forget a name two seconds after I've heard it. I don't know what my excuse is when I'm writing.

One of my brother's friends said I should just do like Lauren Bacall and call everyone Larry. I think he said Lauren Bacall... Heck, now that I'm trying to remember it, the standard name might not've even been Larry...

See?

It's really embarrassing to me, but it does make for some funny stories. My mom's favorite is from when I was an (undergrad) editorial assistant at the ECCB. (See debut post.)

In addition to being general editor, Dr. Borck was also Director of Graduate Studies for the English dept., and he was very proud to have recruited Dr. Bob Becker from the history dept. to come over and join our editorial staff. Apparently "Becker" as they all called him was very renowned.

We were planning a little reception to welcome him that Friday, and I was determined not to forget his name. All week I'd done that name-association thing to help me remember. "Boris Becker, Boris Becker, Boris Becker" I'd told myself.

So there they all were, standing around welcoming our newest member when I entered the room and with my most welcoming smile, announced, "You must be Boris!"

Silence.

It's funny how ancient college professors really are masters of the withering glare.

My face couldn't have been hotter, and I was trying to remember if I'd said "Boris" or "Becker." Scott Peeples, the graduate student I worked with most, jumped in and saved my life by giggling, which caused Dr. Borck to do his Letterman laugh.

The tension was broken, but Becker never smiled. I slunked off to get my little glass of champagne and chat with Steve who was also in the doghouse for leaving the tearsheets in his car with the window cracked during a rainstorm, thus ruining them all.

Becker stayed on the duration of my time at the ECCB, but I never saw him again. I'd like to believe it was because we had different schedules. I did get one little communique from him before I left that asked me to do somethingorother. It was the only indication that we were cool. He signed it "Boris."

I later worked for his wife Carolyn at the LSU Bookstore before I went back to graduate school. She was very nice and never once called me Loris.

So unfortunately, I sent out BNN with a main character's name incorrect in one place. I'd like to imagine agent-readers will give me a pass--or heck, not even notice. The names are pretty close. They're practically interchangeable, really.

And there you have it. That's got to be my problem...

I don't know. If I hadn't always been this way, I'd be worried. Anybody got any good tricks? I'd be happy to try one, although at this point, I feel like I've tried everything. My favorite technique is Michael Scott's from the Office. I'd just never remember the name for trying to understand the technique. I'll give you a link if I can find one.

So have a great weekend, whatever your name is!

Not the Nickleback Pickle

OK, kids, so Richard thinks my blog title is dorky.

He didn't come right out and say, "Your blog title is dorky." No, he's more subtle than that. He simply started walking around the house using his Fred Willard voice to say the following:

"That's write!" and
"I don't think so!" and
"I can't do my work!"

The benefit of knowing someone since you were teens is you can tell when that person is ridiculing you.

I know, I know. Ignore that one. But earlier in the day, my news buddy Kerry pointed out that while my blog is cool and all, it'll never catch up with that pickle that beat Nickelback for the most fans on Facebook.

LTM: Hahahahaha... oh.

Can I just say that as a fan, pickles are really hard to beat?

Well, except that one that ran for Spanish Fort mayor a few years ago. He lost pretty handily. (Richard pointed out he was one of those crazy Pineda Island Pickles, and upon reflection, I agreed. That probably was his undoing.)

We actually have a really nice Timber Creek Pickle in our church choir. There's also a Duck. And a few houses down from us live the Barefoots. (They're not Am. Indians. I asked.) Across the street are the Koors. Everyone likes to congregate at their house around 5 p.m. to unwind, discuss the day, world events...

So I'm going with the whole "can't beat 'em, join 'em" philosophy. If the title changes, it's going to be a Pickle. But perhaps I should distinguish myself. I could be the Laid-back Pickle. Or the nerdy, Has-Trouble-Coming-Up-With-Names Pickle.

I don't know.

What do you guys think? Is my blog title dorky? If so, some of you creative types send me some suggestions. I don't want it to be just my silly ole name.

P.S.
My favorite eaterie in Shreveport was The Real Pickle. Oh, and here's that Fred Willard bit.