Jules Older
Getting
rich from writing appears not to be
my destiny. So, having published one ebook and lost money on it, of course, I
wanted to repeat the exercise.
With SKIING THE EDGE still in the red, I
decided that second book would be my wildest, funniest travel tales. I've had
plenty of them, from New England to New Zealand, on snow and at sea, in wild
woods and in gay Paree.
All I
needed was a title.
All I still need is a title.
That’s
where you come in.
I
originally called the book:
GOING TO EXTREMES
Intense Travel Tales
from All Over
Trouble
was, “extreme” travel has its own definition, usually involving rappelling down
cliffs or facing down lions, and I make a point of honor never to do either.
The other
trouble was there are about half a dozen books with the same title.
So I gave
the ebook-in-eprogress a name nobody else would ever use:
LOSER IN LEUKERBAD
And Other Hazards of
Travel Writing
Turns
out, the reasons nobody would ever use it were:
1. because nobody liked it, and
2. because nobody but me knew that
Leukerbad is a miniscule spa town in the Swiss Alps.
So,
forget that.
But I
liked using one of the recurring themes of the book, my propensity to lose my belongings
and to get lost, myself. Here's a sample:
Some people
travel so easily. They walk lightly on the earth. They exude peace and harmony.
They hold onto their belongings.
I envy
these people. I'm the traveler who loses his wallet, loses his guide, loses his
way. I'm a loser.
Thus, the
next title:
LOSER
Traveling With Incompetence
Well,
that was cool… except almost no one who read the title knew it was a humorous
travel book. Sounds kind of a downer, eh?
Onward!
One of
the chapters dealt with… well, dealt with this:
And
then, there’s the incident I regard as la
grande souffle of debonair deportment.
It’s
the first night of a gastronomic tour for food writers only. Let me say that
again. For food writers only. One of
the gourmets sits down to a seafood dinner, picks up a soup spoon, grabs the
table’s bowl of tartar sauce, and…to the silent amazement of all, without a
word of apology or explanation, proceeds to gobble the whole thing down.
It’s
a table of eight.
A
bowl for eight.
That’s
a lot of sauce.
Therefore,
I renamed the book:
DEATH BY TARTAR
Travel Writing’s Dark
Secrets
Only, friends
pointed out that it now sounds like either a crime novel or an exposé or a
conflation of both. When it’s actually, uh, neither.
And,
Effin pointed out that ‘tartar’ sounds more like raw steak than a
mayonnaise-based sauce.
Thus came:
DEATH BY TARTAR
SAUCE
To which
I added a Victorian-sounding subtitle:
or
A Travel Writer’s
Encounters with Cunning Condiments, Snaggle-Toothed Reptiles, Petrified Shark,
Lost Skis, Lost Luggage, True Love, and Embarrassing Children
That may
have been a wee bit long, even for Victorians. So I re-subbed it:
DEATH BY TARTAR
SAUCE
A Travel Writer’s
Encounters with Murderous Mayonnaise, Repulsive Reptiles, Irksome Offspring, Lost Luggage and
True Love
Or, I
wondered, would it be better to modify the syntax to:
DEATH BY TARTAR
SAUCE
A Travel Writer
Encounters Repulsive Reptiles, Irksome
Offspring, Lost Luggage, Murderous Mayonnaise, and True Love
Either
way, some found the ‘repulsive’ thing a bit off-putting. Therefore, I modified
it slightly:
DEATH BY TARTAR SAUCE
A Travel Writer’s
Encounters with Gargantuan Gators, Irksome Offspring, Lost Luggage, Murderous
Mayonnaise, and
True Love
And, as
Effin and I finish the editing process, and ponder what the cover will look
like, that’s where the title stands today.
And that’s
where you come in.
I'd be
pleased if you'd tell me:
— I like it.
— I don’t like it.
— Here's something I think is better: ______
I promise
to let you know how it comes out in the end.
Many
thanks,
Jules
Older, jules@julesolder.com
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