Friday 12 June 2026
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
Slaughterhouse-Five, or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty-Dance with Death
The Devil Wears Prada.
Catch-22.
The Year of Magical Thinking.
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.
It Was a Long Time Ago, and It Never Happened Anyway: Russia and the Communist Past.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
I could go on.
A book’s title should be memorable, unpretentious, and simple. The more unconventional, the better it represents the work of art; or at least, according to me.
Deciding whether a title “fits” the rest of the manuscript, I always have struggled with naming any piece of writing. Sometimes, titles may sound eccentric, but if it encapsulates or represents the arc of the book—including message, emotion, then the title may not be as quirky as you think.
I could live with an idiosyncratic-sounding book title. In other words, is the book’s title “sexy”? After all, “you can’t judge a book by its cover.” [Let’s avoid the dilemmas of book covers.]
During my post-op recovery period, I evaluated the strengths and weaknesses of my Katyn manuscript’s title: Living With Katyn: A Personal and Literary Odyssey.
Before settling on that title, I considered naming my Katyn manuscript: Remembering Katyn; alas, another writer had beat me to it.
Initially, when King Arthur and I planned to co-write the manuscript, I vaguely remember the working title. I recall its tone was academic, political.
Steve even advised me to call the manuscript, “In Search of Katyn; [something, something]. I didn’t like it. The phrase sounded antiquated, even boring.
I convinced myself that Living With Katyn captured both the historical subject matter (a World War II war crime) and the personal, behind-the-scenes approach. The manuscript isn’t just about “Katyn.” The manuscript also was about me.
When King Arthur suggested I revise the “Living With Katyn” title, he cautioned that “Katyn” may be too unfamiliar to modern readers, thus rendering it obscure.
As the longest serving working title for my book, “Living With Katyn, A Personal and Literary Odyssey” seemed to represent my direct, personal experiences with the subject matter.
I also wrote about the Holocaust. I wrote about how I became a global literature teacher. I wrote about Russian politics. Therefore, “Living With Katyn” was too vague.
With that kind of title, marketing the book might be a challenge.
“What exactly is the book about, again?” I asked myself.
Did the old title work?” I added.
I justified the “Living With Katyn” title as a compromise between sounding “old-fashioned” and “retro, but even “hip.”
King Arthur considered the idea of entitling the manuscript something along the lines of “A Polish-American Ahab’s Quest.” I was intrigued and inspired.
Suddenly, the title appeared before me: Working for Intelligence: A Teacher’s Travel Diary Studying World War II War Crimes.
Yes!
The title was ironic: I wasn’t working for any American intelligence agency. I wasn’t in the military. I was a college professor. I was a civilian. I was a “young” intellectual exploring what it meant to be an “intellectual.” It reminded me about an anthology of Lionell Trilling essays (The Moral Obligation to Be Intelligent).
The new title also echoed another early working title I had developed; I imagined the manuscript as a “travel log.” Steve never liked that possibility. “Your book is more than just a “travel” book,” he would say repeatedly.
What do you, Reader, think of this new working title?