I have my first fifteen thousand words drafted for Book 4. I’m calling it ‘Book 4’. Catchy title, right? I’ve had two working titles so far: She Sells Seashells, and The Body On The Underwater Road. The problem with the first, is the novel has nothing to do with selling or seashells. In the second title, I’m writing about the concept of theft and redemption, either of which murder would be incidental. So, no.
There are writers out there who do crazy good outlines. Some employ spreadsheets, colour-coded. Others devise, and then impose mathematical structure to their chapters. In both cases, I bet they have titles, but I don’t.
I should worry about this, but I don’t. The title will find me one of these days (or nights). I’ll dream it, or read a line that basically directs me to it. Or my partner, Lois Williams will hand it to me on a silver platter. Hey! I’ll bet my editor will give me something great.