There, but for Grace…
So as I mentioned, the publisher wants to change the name of my book.
I really like the title The Painted Man. Honestly, I think it is the best title for the story I have written.
But the publisher’s point, which I will concede, if not like, is that the title is a marketing tool as much as it is a capturing of the spirit and soul of the book. As such, its purpose is to entice browsers to pick up and read the book, which works to everyone’s advantage. The publisher makes money, I get more people exposed to my work (and money), and the reader hopefully gets a book they enjoy.
The general feeling was that The Painted Man did not give enough of an impression about what you’d get inside to catch the attention it warrants.
I was a bit upset about it at first. I loved my title and was ready to fight for it. But then I realized that my publishers were investing a LOT of money into my work, and it was only fair for them to try to maximize profits (from which I would also benefit).
It took a couple of days, but I managed to emotionally separate my book from its title. Now I have to think of a new one, and get it past the marketers. That might actually be fun.
But coincidentally, I learned what can happen if you go the other route. A VP at my company called me into his office today, and pointed to the listing for my sale on SFScope.
“Is that you?” he asked.
“Guilty,” I said, and the guy launched into a whole thing about how he was a published author with like 3 books, but had given it up for more lucrative ventures. We talked for like an hour.
I told him about the title thing, and my decision not to fight it. “What, am I going to jeopardize my life’s dream because I won’t budge on a title?” I said. “I’m not going to try and wrap up all my artistic integrity in having my first pick title on the book.”
“You handled it more maturely than I did,” he said.
“Huh?”
“I had two 2-book deals,” he said. “But I only published 3 books. The first two weren’t so good, but the third intoduced a new detective character, and in the fourth book I really perfected him. It was the best thing I ever wrote. I even had the perfect title: The Rape of Ganymede.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“The publisher didn’t like the title,” he said. “I fought and fought, but they wouldn’t budge. So, rather than have them force a new title on it, I took the book back, walking away from the deal. I figured some other publisher would buy it, and let me keep the title.”
He paused a bit. “But I couldn’t,” he said. “And I haven’t sold a book since.”
Yow.