My debut novel, slated for spring 2022 publication by Lanternfish Press, needs a new title. As a small press publisher, I’ve been on the other side of the equation many times, telling authors their working titles won’t connect with enough people, or aren’t quite right for what’s actually on the page.
Usually, with the novels I acquire, I know right away. I love the manuscript, but not the title, I tell some authors during the onboarding process, usually before we sign the contract. Often, they say, I don’t love it either, but I didn’t know what else to call it.
When Lanternfish staff let me know we’d be announcing with THE BRIGHT SIDE as a working title, I understood my novel would likely be getting a new identity.
The project, a nineteenth-century French fable about a family of barrel organ makers, had two previous titles before I sold it as THE BRIGHT SIDE. In a really early version, there was a magical blizzard of lost letters, so I called it LOST NOTES, referring to the correspondence while also referring to the pins that can fall off the cylinder of a music box. Each pin opens the pipe to air from the bellows, making sound, so a missing pin means a musical note that is absent. That was, admittedly, something most people wouldn’t know until they read the book. Plus the blizzard of letters didn’t end up fitting into the story.
After that, I started calling it THE SERINETTE, named after the particular kind of barrel organ my protagonist’s family makes in their small magical village. A serinette is a barrel organ intended to train canaries how to sing popular songs. While the word sounded French, historical, and delightful, my agent decided this title wouldn’t sell the book, because of the word’s obscurity. She pointed out that readers wouldn’t get a deep emotional feeling from a word they didn’t recognize. They might be curious, but not moved enough to pick up the book.
Together, we decided on THE BRIGHT SIDE. Part of the fable setup of this project is the incessant sunniness of the village where my characters make serinettes. It’s also a whimsical, uplifting book, although as you might imagine, the village isn’t as bright or perfect as it seems.

After signing the contract and doing the official announcement, I received the official Lanternfish request to make a list of alternate titles in advance of the first marketing meeting about my novel. An assignment! (I really, really love assignments.) I went through the manuscript, puzzling out ideas, listing words about birds and music and lace and nineteenth-century villages, all while considering the way I wanted readers to feel when they heard my title.
During that investigation, I compiled several pages of terrible ideas, knowing they might lead me to something interesting. This is a technique I’ve used often when helping authors find new names for their works. I’ve been working the soil in our raised garden beds, pounding and raking to loosen what’s there so I can mix compost and new soil in. That’s kind of the idea behind a really big list. Especially after calling a manuscript by one name for so long, it can be hard to get out of that habit. To get unstuck. The messier the mix of ideas, the more likely something new and interesting will grow out of it. One piece of language might plant a seed you didn’t even see before. There’s something exciting and generative about a messy list. And vulnerable.
But it’s the vulnerability that allows for new growth, I think. (Don’t you?)
Once I completed that title-gathering exercise and pulled a few favorites out of the mess, I sent those options to a few writer friends. I sent the resulting shortlist to my editor, Christine, who didn’t get excited about any of them.
This happens. I had felt so certain one of those ideas would work, so then I panicked for a little while, before her response sparked off a whole new set of ideas more focused on the canary training. One of them, HOW TO TUNE A SONGBIRD, I’ve already rejected for sounding too glib and modern, but my agent pointed out it could make a great essay title. So that one will go in a file.
Publishing is a team effort, and without these conversations with the Lanternfish team and the input from my writer-friends, I would have never generated this new list:
WHEN THE CANARIES LEARNED TO SING
HENRI AND THE CANARIES
CANARY SONG
THE MECHANICS OF BIRDSONG
I love this list, especially THE MECHANICS OF BIRDSONG, because mechanics refers to my protagonist Henri and his father, the makers of the barrel organs. They’re making the barrel organs that will teach canaries how to sing. But there are also chapters where we see canaries being trained.
I’m worried and unsettled about sharing this list, because none of these may resonate with my editor. They may fall away. (More cyber dust like my protagonist’s brother, who I wrote out of the book five years ago.) But sharing the process from the middle feels important, especially since so many of you—my dear newsletter subscribers—are writers too. Being in the middle is scary. Having an answer—a title—puts a sweet little bow on the process of finding the right words. And I don’t have that quite yet. Maybe, just maybe, Christine will love my current favorite. But it’s likely that we’ll work through other iterations, maybe even circle back to an earlier list or spin off in a completely different direction.
Eventually, if not immediately, we will have a great title. I have full faith in the Lanternfish team, and the patience to wait through the next steps.
Meanwhile, as far as a newsletter title, THE BRIGHT SIDE suits me; it matches the feeling of coming out of the hardest, most grief-stricken times I’ve ever experienced, which happened to coincide with a devastating pandemic. My daily life has been rewritten. Made simpler. More precious.
YOUR BRIGHT SIDE INVITATION: Look at your bookshelf and think about the titles that stand out to you. Why and how do they resonate? If you’re a writer, you can use these insights in considering the title of your work-in-progress. Make your own messy list! Don’t be afraid to jot down really, really bad ideas, because a new seed might grow. If you’re a reader, what can you learn about your taste in books from considering the titles separately from the covers, descriptions, and blurbs? Have you ever purchased a book just because of the title?
Feel free to leave a comment! I started this newsletter to create an intimate but accessible conversation space about creativity, grief, and the societal reset that the pandemic has offered creatives like us. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Especially about which—if any—of these titles speaks to you and why. (Just don’t get too attached! I’m doing my best to acknowledge these are options, not decisions.) You can reply to this email to have a conversation just with me, or you can comment on the post to connect with other readers. You’re also welcome to forward this to any friends who might like it.
For those of you who are new: Thanks for joining my newsletter community! I publish new pieces twice a month. Being transparent about publishing is my jam—as a publisher and now as an author—and I’m equally passionate about building creativity into everyday life. If you have any questions or topics you’d like me to address in future issues, feel free to drop me a note. I’d love to make this space as interactive as possible.
I love hearing about this process. I know you will end up loving whatever the title will be (and so will we all, because it will be the title of *your* book!!!)
Personally, I love How to Tune a Songbird and The Mechanics of Birdsong. They make me most interested in picking the book up to see what it's about and if I'd like it.
What good ideas for finding just the right title for your book. My working title has received both yeas and nays; I expect to be on the hunt, too and will use your method of doing the research, making the list and throwing everything against the wall and seeing what sticks. PS My favorite of your suggested: THE MECHANICS OF BIRDSONG.