Ketchup

It turns out that the book I've been writing isn't called MIND PLAGUE after all. In fact, I've never written a book that was called what I thought it was called.

PLAGUE YEAR, as you know, began as THE INVISIBLE SEA. It briefly became THE ARCHOS PLAGUE and then DEATHLINE before my editor and the marketing folks at Ace struck on PLAGUE YEAR, which, in the end, is the perfect title.

They wanted to call the second book WAR YEAR but I said, hey, the first book actually covers a span of thirteen months. PLAGUE YEAR makes sense. The second book only covers a few weeks. WAR YEAR is nonsensical. Plus there's one big especially scary afternoon in the story. How about WAR DAY? I said. No, how about PLAGUE WAR? they said.

Meanwhile, I'd originally conceived of the third book as FINAL HOUR. What a lovely countdown that would have been. PLAGUE YEAR. WAR DAY. FINAL HOUR. Maybe it's a bit too cerebral, but, wow, they'd look *great* together on a shelf.

Alas, once we changed the second title, the countdown was out. Also, it's wise indeed to run with a key word. PLAGUE THIS. PLAGUE THAT. I've been thinking MIND PLAGUE all this time. Instead, welcome to PLAGUE ZONE.

It does make for a catchy threesome. YEAR. WAR. ZONE.

Be afraid. :)

Labels: titles and the writing life