So, as you may have gathered, I write.
I write a bunch of different things. Sometimes, it’s assignment sheets for my students. Others, example essays that we can dissect together. I even write actual essays for my own coursework – things that I still get (gulp) graded on.
But I don’t write those things for me. Those are purpose written documents. They’re things that I’ve been trained to write methodically, quickly, and without much pleasure.
The act of writing, however, still brings me pleasure. I love watching my brain explode onto the page. The spattering of thoughts hitting the blankness entrances me. And there’s been a lot of brain goop hitting the page in recent months.
But those specks and smudges of thoughts are hilariously terrible when they’re taken out of context. See, I have a contemporary young adult novel in the works. I’ve spent the last while revising it – tweaking it based on industry advice, some of which I picked up during a LitReactor course I took over the summer.
During this course, I met the wonderful Shannon M. Parker, whose debut novel is being released in spring 2016 – which is stupid exciting. But today, Shannon threw down. She tagged me in a challenge: the #8TerribleTitles challenge.
And I’m so up for it.
Basically, I got to scroll through my current manuscript (tentatively titled SPUN AROUND) and brainstorm some new, erm, interesting working titles. Wherever my cursor was hanging out when I stopped scrolling, well, that’s my new possible title. And, let me tell you, SPUN AROUND is looking pretty damn good in comparison to these gems. If, you know, “gem” means the horribly gaudy costume jewelry you’d find in a Value Village display case.
So, here they are. #8TerribleTitles from my contemporary YA novel, SPUN AROUND:
1. Nibbling on his lip
2. Release the weed
3. Perfectly overgrown
4. Singing over the quiet rumble
5. She just keeps pulling at her sock
6. Hovering in the air between us
7. Some kind of health hazard
8. A defeated man with no ambition
Ready to play?
Molly Dean Stevens
Tag. You’re it.