How To Title A Romance Novel

Titling a fantasy novel is like casting a spell—it needs to grab attention and hint at the magic inside. I love when titles balance mystery and clarity, like 'The Name of the Wind' or 'Mistborn'. They evoke curiosity without giving too much away. A strong title often uses poetic language or unique phrases, like 'The Fifth Season' or 'The Priory of the Orange Tree'. I’m drawn to titles that feel like they belong to another world, with a touch of grandeur or whimsy. Alliteration can work wonders, like 'The Lies of Locke Lamora', or even juxtaposing opposites, like 'A Darker Shade of Magic'. The best titles linger in your mind long after you’ve closed the book.

The title 'Before We Were Yours' carries a profound weight, reflecting the heartbreaking reality of the Foss children’s lives. It’s a reminder of the identity they were stripped of when they were taken from their parents and sold into adoption. The 'before' signifies the life they once knew—a life of love, family, and belonging. The 'yours' points to the new, forced identity they were given, one that erased their past and reshaped their future. This title also underscores the theme of stolen childhoods and the resilience of the human spirit. It’s a haunting echo of the question, 'Who were we before we became someone else’s property?' The novel delves into the pain of lost heritage and the search for truth, showing how the past can never truly be erased. The title is a call to remember those who were wronged and to honor their stories. Moreover, it’s a testament to the power of memory and identity. Even as the Foss children were forced into new lives, their true selves lingered beneath the surface, waiting to be reclaimed. The title encapsulates the journey of rediscovery, both for the characters and for the readers, who are invited to reflect on the importance of knowing where we come from.

The title 'Aztec' isn't just a name dropped for exotic flair—it's the backbone of the novel's entire identity. This book digs into the raw, unfiltered soul of the Aztec civilization, weaving its myths, brutality, and grandeur into every chapter. The title screams immediacy, like you're stepping into Tenochtitlan's blood-stacked temples or hearing the war drums echo across Lake Texcoco. It’s a signal that this isn’t some sanitized history lesson; it’s a plunge into a world where gods demand hearts and gold paves roads to power. The novel uses the Aztec lens to explore themes that still claw at us today: the cost of empire, the hunger for belief, and the way beauty and horror can coil together like serpents. The title ties everything to that civilization’s duality—their astronomical genius and their sacrificial knives, their poetic hymns and their conquests. When characters invoke 'Aztec,' it’s not nostalgia; it’s a reckoning. The title becomes a mirror, forcing readers to ask how much of that ancient ferocity lingers in modern ambition. It’s gutsy, unapologetic, and as monumental as a pyramid under a desert sun. What’s brilliant is how the title doesn’t just anchor the setting—it infects the prose. Descriptions carry the weight of obsidian, dialogue crackles with the urgency of a priest predicting doom. Even the love stories feel like they’re etched in codex pages. 'Aztec' isn’t a label; it’s a pulse. The novel earns that name by making you taste the smoke of burning copal and feel the dread before a flint knife falls. No other title could’ve held this story’s spine straight.

The title 'The Bostonians' is deeply symbolic, reflecting the novel's exploration of societal and cultural shifts in post-Civil War Boston. It’s not just about the city but the people who embody its ideals, struggles, and contradictions. The story revolves around Olive Chancellor, a staunch feminist, and Basil Ransom, a conservative southerner, who clash over the future of Verena Tarrant, a young woman with a gift for public speaking. The title captures the essence of this ideological battle, as Boston becomes a microcosm of America’s broader tensions—tradition versus progress, North versus South, and individual freedom versus societal expectations. What makes the title so poignant is how it ties the characters to their environment. Olive represents the progressive, intellectual elite of Boston, while Basil embodies the old guard resisting change. Verena, caught between them, symbolizes the uncertain future of a nation in transition. The title isn’t just a geographical marker; it’s a lens through which we see the complexities of identity, ambition, and power. It’s a reminder that the personal is political, and the struggles of these 'Bostonians' are emblematic of a society grappling with its own evolution.

The title 'Night' in the novel holds profound significance as it symbolizes the darkness and despair that envelops the characters' lives during the Holocaust. The night is not just a time of day but a metaphor for the loss of faith, hope, and humanity. It represents the endless suffering and the void that consumes their existence. The novel delves into how the characters navigate through this perpetual night, struggling to find meaning and light amidst the overwhelming darkness. The title encapsulates the essence of their journey, highlighting the resilience and the enduring spirit to survive against all odds. Moreover, 'Night' also reflects the author's personal experience and the collective memory of those who endured the Holocaust. It serves as a stark reminder of the atrocities committed and the importance of remembering history to prevent such horrors from recurring. The title is a powerful testament to the human capacity for endurance and the quest for redemption in the face of unimaginable suffering.

The title 'Homegoing' is deeply symbolic, reflecting the novel's exploration of ancestry, identity, and the concept of 'home' across generations. The story follows two half-sisters from Ghana and their descendants, tracing their paths through slavery, colonialism, and modern-day struggles. 'Homegoing' isn’t just about physical return but the emotional and spiritual journey of reconnecting with one’s roots. For the characters, home is both a place and a state of being—a reclaiming of identity lost to history’s brutality. The title also hints at the cyclical nature of history and the idea of returning to one’s origins. Each generation grapples with the legacy of their ancestors, seeking to understand their place in the world. The novel’s structure, alternating between the two family lines, mirrors this journey of discovery. 'Homegoing' is a poignant reminder that home isn’t just a destination but a process of healing and understanding the past to move forward.

The title 'The Namesake' is deeply symbolic, reflecting the protagonist’s struggle with identity and belonging. Gogol Ganguli, named after the Russian author Nikolai Gogol, spends much of his life grappling with the weight of this name. It’s not just a label; it’s a bridge between his Bengali heritage and his American upbringing. The novel explores how names can shape our sense of self, often carrying cultural, familial, and historical baggage. Gogol’s journey to understand and eventually embrace his name mirrors his journey to reconcile his dual identity. The title isn’t just about Gogol; it’s a universal exploration of how we navigate the names we’re given and the identities we choose. What makes the title so poignant is its dual meaning. On one hand, it refers to Gogol’s literal namesake—the author his father admired. On the other, it speaks to the broader theme of legacy and inheritance. Gogol’s name becomes a metaphor for the immigrant experience, where one is constantly torn between honoring the past and forging a new future. The title encapsulates the tension between tradition and modernity, a theme that resonates throughout the novel. It’s a reminder that our names are more than words; they’re stories, histories, and identities woven into the fabric of who we are.

The title 'Birdsong' carries profound symbolism in the novel, intertwining themes of beauty, fragility, and resilience. Birdsong represents fleeting moments of peace amid the chaos of war, a stark contrast to the relentless brutality of trench warfare. The protagonist, Stephen, clings to these brief, melodic respites as reminders of humanity and hope. Their songs echo his lost love and the natural world he once knew, now shattered by violence. The birds also serve as silent witnesses to history, their songs unchanged by human conflict, underscoring the indifference of nature to our struggles. The title hints at the duality of life—how something as delicate as a bird’s call can persist even in the darkest times. It’s a metaphor for endurance, art, and the unbreakable spirit that survives against all odds.