Well, it’s official. My new novel, due for release in July next year, is to be renamed. Currently called Firewater, this is how the Penguin publishing team broke the news to me this week.

‘The current title isn’t doing the job you want it to do. Almost universally, those coming fresh to the book, without any previous knowledge of the plot, associated the word ‘firewater’ with high-proof alcohol, or moonshine!’

Fond as I am of the original name, I can see Penguin’s point. The novel is most definitely not about illegally distilled alcohol. So, the search for a new title begins!

The title of a novel will often alter by publication date. There is a proud history of name changes. The baffling working title of Tolstoy’s War and Peace was ’All’s Well That Ends Well’. Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men was equally inexplicably called ’Something That Happened’. ’A Jewish Patient Begins His Analysis,’ became Portnoy’s Complaint. ‘First Impressions,’ became Pride and Prejudice. ‘Incident At West Egg’? – The Great Gatsby. ‘Private Fleming; His Various Battles’? – The Red Badge Of Courage. ‘The Dead UnDead’? – Dracula.

Title scribblings for Light Years by James Salter

These early title drafts seem so absurd to readers now, partly because they already know and love the book under its final name. Likewise, it can be difficult for authors to give up the title they’ve grown used to. But my publisher is the expert, and I respect her judgement. Meanwhile, I’m writing my new novel, with a working title I won’t get too attached to. Can’t wait to announce the new title for Firewater, once it’s finalised. Looking down the fascinating list of renamed classics, I must admit the publishers invariably got it right. That’s why I’m trusting mine.