Danuta Hinc

When I started writing my first novel, the one that will be published in November this year, I came up with a working title: To Kill the Other.  I have to admit that throughout the many years of working on the novel, the title found a place in my heart and mind. But I always thought of it as temporary.

When the novel was finished, the first comment I received from the publisher reinforced the idea that the title was wrong. “People don’t like the word kill,” I was told. “But don’t worry; your editor will help you to find something more suitable.”

As the manuscript went through all the necessary ablutions in copy editing, I was searching for a new title.  I was determined to come up with something absolutely perfect before my editor saw the manuscript.

What did I do?

I have spent hours on the phone with my friends and, although they were all surprised that I was searching for a new title, they promised to think about it. “What’s wrong with the one you have?” they asked. But hearing the urgent desperation in my voice, they didn’t argue with me too long.

My son, Alex, also didn’t see a reason to change the working title. “I love it!  To Kill the Other is perfect,” he said as he was walking out the room hurriedly. But I couldn’t tell if the statement came from a true conviction or from the fact that sixteen year old people are constantly preoccupied with something and have to rush to attend to the important “stuff” of their daily lives.

I have asked my friends on Facebook to vote on a title and they did.  Some of them even took the time to explain their choices.

Here are the titles that were considered in the course of the copy editing process:

1) In the Name of the Father

2) Killing the Other

3) Altitude

4) Lost

5) Boy

6) Twins

7) Water

8) Fallen Angels

9) Away from Life

10) The Other Twin

11) To Kill the Other

All the titles expressed something about the novel, but none of them said the exact and precise thing that needed to be said. For me, the disturbing discovery was that I — the book’s author — did not seem to know what exactly and precisely needed to be communicated by the title.

And then came the day when Emily, my editor, sent her first changes back to me and said, “I love the title To Kill the Other.“

“Oh, no!”  I said.

“Oh, yes!” Emily said.

Suddenly the impermanence of my working title became irrelevant and the familiar feeling associated with the so-old title swept over me. I felt as if I had just met a friend I hadn’t seen for years and I realized that not only had I missed my friend dearly, but I was also grateful that our relationship had been resurrected.

I also came to a conclusion that I saw my friend, the tentative working title, in a different, more favorable light thanks to the exhausting search through all the possibilities.

This made me think that no journey is ever lost. Even if the trajectory of our travels leads us right back home, to the place of the beginning, we are not the same — nothing is the same. Everything is different, and even though it seems to be familiar, it is changed forever.