A wise English teacher once gave me some good advice about creative writing. He told me that the most important parts of a work are the title, the first line, and the last line. That is what the (casual) reader is going to remember. (If he is right, I am already 2/3 of the way through the most important part of this blog entry.) In this post, I want to focus on the first aspect of that triumvirate: the title.
During my time as an editor at Polyphony, I have encountered many a good work that was encumbered by an unworthy title. In the case of a shorter piece, or one whose meaning is otherwise ambiguous, a lackluster title can even be the difference between a successful overall piece and one that falls short. But what makes a good title? I believe that the power of a title really comes down to two things: its pertinence and its creativity.
A good title should reveal something important about the piece. It is not appropriate to add an abstractly good title to a piece simply because you always wanted to name your story “the son and the moon.” If the exciting/witty title has no discernible connection to the piece, it should not be used no matter how clever. Similarly, it is not advisable to reference a minute aspect of the piece in the title. Just because you think it makes the work should more interesting. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is a perfect example of a failure to adhere to this rule. “The Goblet of Fire” does sound more intriguing than the correct title of the book (in my opinion, based on how Rowling named all the other books), “The Tri-Wizard Tournament.” Naming the book “The Goblet of Fire” is like naming the first book in the series, “Harry Potter and the Sorting Hat.” The title should apply to the piece in some way, preferably illuminating or highlighting the main idea. (Who is to say how many more books Rowling would have sold had she named them all properly?!)
A good title will not just reference a key portion of the work; it will expand upon it in a surprising or insightful manner. “Treasure Island” is pertinent but does not add much to a reader’s understanding or enjoyment of the piece. We know from reading the book that it has to do with a journey to Treasure Island. The title does not provide a deeper insight or a clever phrasing of what is contained within. Titles that break the second rule can work, but they cannot be great. Shakespeare was a big fan of rule one; not so much of rule two. “Hamlet” is about, well, Hamlet. “King Lear” is about King Lear.
From the above, it might appear as though the search for a great title is a hopeless quest. If Rowling and Shakespeare cannot pick a good name, you have to ask yourself, “are there any titles that ARE good?” I am here to tell you that although it is certainly a heady task, great titles have been achieved before. “Infinite Jest”, by David Foster Wallace, is a great title. It works on multiple levels. Most superficially, it refers to one of the main plot points of the novel, the search for the video titled “Infinite Jest.” One level above this, it connects the book itself with the contents of the tape. Furthermore, in an even higher realm outside of the work, it references the incredibly long length of the book and the less-than-conclusive ending at the end of those 1200 pages. “Gravity’s Rainbow,” by Thomas Pynchon, is another great title. It references the importance of missiles in the book itself as well as providing a unique and intelligent metaphorical phrase.
Although I am graduating and will therefore be unable to experience the Polyphony submissions of the coming years, I will continue to read the publication. I am confident that the level of teen writing will only increase from the excellence I have already encountered. I am sorry that I will not be able to witness first hand this improvement in skill and, hopefully, after this post, titling.
Seth Perlman, outgoing Editor-in-Chief