Imagine, if you will, a small but rapidly growing southern town in the 1890's. A young man, his nine-fingered girlfriend and an angry black man team up to wreak havoc on a local group of tough guys - only to find that sci fi weirdness awaits.
Sound awesomely awesome, right? Well, slightly lamer than awesome. But still, at least it's a story - and a finished one. So I'm doing final edits on it so I can send it out to be rejected and it dawns on me... I don't have a title. No problem, I'll just slap a name on it and I'm done. I'll call it:
Er, aside from the fact that there is no one named Buster in the story, and no one is really seeking revenge, well, maybe in a general "I'm mad at the world" kind of way, but not specifically. I'm not sure it's appropriate. No biggie, I'll come up with something else.
The Cursed Coin of Caine Comes Calling
I love alliteration, probably because I can tell folks when I'm stuttering that I just enjoying alliterating. But again, who's Caine? Actually, it's pretty stupid. Even if there was a Caine in the story I would hate it. Forget that one.
Bang! That was my Gun... and It Shot You...With a Bullet
Ugh. And that's before alcohol got involved. I think I came up with around a dozen titles, each worse than the last. So, ah, not to imposition anyone or anything, but if anyone has an idea of a title I wouldn't be against using it.
Dead Men Don't Live... Unless They Do!
Oh god, someone please help me.