Saturday, 20 August 2005

Home at last. While I was away I managed to write a little over 9,000 words of the great masterpiece and even came up with a title:
The Bridekirk Behemoth
You see, I have my mind on a sequel already, and where there is Behemoth there is usually also Leviathan (particularly in Job xl 15-24 and xli 1-34). The greater scheme of things would be thus: having scored a succès d'estime with The Bridekirk Behemoth I would achieve a succès fou with its kickass sequel, The Limehouse Leviathan. Seeing as trilogies are still all the rage I would then miss a few deadlines before coming up with the difficult third volume, the one with the unicorn in the title. Hey, if it worked for Mervyn Peake (not the unicorn, but the difficult third volume)...

However Mrs Wenlock is of the view (and is probably right to be so) that publishers will look askance at the word "Behemoth" on the grounds that they may not be sure how it should be pronounced (answer: "behemoth"). Further thought was necessary and my by now wilting brain produced:
Lord Alexander's Cipher
This is a bit dull, and would be somewhat at risk if I change the name of my hero. Lord Cedric's Cipher sounds silly.

But then I thought, why not combine the two and have one of those long titles that were fashionable in the early 19th Century (eg The Tourifications of Malachi Meldrum Esq. of Meldrum-Hall, or The Castle of Villeroy or the Bandit Chief). So the working title is currently:
Lord Alexander's Cipher or the Bridekirk Behemoth
The sequel, which has no plot as yet, is currently pencilled in as Lady Cardington's Folly or the Limehouse Leviathan.


Mags said...

I like long psuedo-Victorian titles. Of course, you may get people wondering if the behemoth is Lord Alexander's, er, equipment...

Anonymous said...

From Harriet did not bat, whom blogger is refusing to allow to select an identity:

"Behemoth" is one of our Indian correspondent's favourite words, usually applied to the Indian railways. I have noticed that many words survive in Indian English, or at least Indian newspaper English, after withering here; for instance, when Hindu extremists tried to dig up a pitch to sabotage a tour by Pakistan, the charming headline was "Miscreants queer the pitch".