Author Blog

Introducing Glasshalfull

For years, my family has complained about my positive nature. I am always pointing out the brighter side of things which they do not always appreciate. But I can’t help it. It is either that or be a grouch. And there are enough of those in the world already. Nine years ago, I began a series of posts called Glasshalfull on my Facebook page. My intent was to talk about things I was grateful for and to point out the positive side of negative events. Little did I know how much I’d need that outlet in the dark days to come.

In late October, early November 2020, my husband and I contracted Covid 19. As a way to cope, I began writing about our experiences. I have compiled those blogs here in the Glasshalful, Covid Edition category.

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Notice the creative single-word title of this entry? I’ve been thinking a lot about how so many books have mono titles these days. This has made me wonder, would my book find a home faster with a one-word name? I mean we know lots of books by one word even if they have a longer moniker. Lassie did it (Lassie, Come Home) and Toby/Bailey/Ellie/Buddy in A Dog’s Purpose…eventually.

So, why not Hotdog? I guess I could keep Hotdog since I and everyone else in workshops with me have referred to it as that since its inception. Still, Hotdog doesn’t really TELL what the book is about. But do any of the mono titles, really? Or are they only meant to hint at what’s inside? To tease at the plot, the character, the theme? WebCharlotte—Friendship




Ironically, coming up with one word is asking a lot of me considering I was the over-achieving sophomore in Leavenworth High who penciled three pages, single-spaced when our English teacher challenged us to compose the longest prepositional phrase. And as a junior I rewrote Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales based on Woodstock (the New York music festival, not Snoopy’s bird). Oh, and I can’t forget the endless notes I passed between classes with my best friend, Jaymee, in middle school, before texts were even a twinkle in any techie’s eye.  

Where does this title trend come from then? Is it a backlash to the word salad we face these days? Our cry for help in the verbiage avalanche? Our way of coping with mass media madness?

Whatever. I’m willing to give it a go. But how do authors come up with one-word wonders? Do they start like a grocery list?




That can’t be right. A grocery list is what you’re out of, not what already stocks the shelves. A title list would have to be what the book is full of, wouldn’t it? Or… uh… maybe not. Naming that might tricky with some books depending on the topic, the genre…the quality. Don’t get me wrong. I applaud anyone who’s had the guts to write a book, to see it through to publication. Even to a first draft! But I do want to keep this blog middle-grade geared, so I won’t go there. (Although, it would be an interesting discussion elsewhere.)

It can’t be as generic as milk, eggs, or tp either. Is it whole, 2%, almond? Brown, free-range, extra-large? Ultra, quilted, mega-roll? Name choice must be focused to plot, character, theme, of course, but even more so because characters come as casts and themes are intertwined. So, is it possible to isolate so much with a single word? It must be because… well… there’s Holes, Pax, HAMILTON!  It must be descriptive yet succinct. But it won’t be easy. I’m willing to try, though, even if it takes 366 tries. So, here goes.

Hotdog title‒Take 1…. ROADTRIP

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I’m terrible at it. Case in point, the time I was at least twelve months pregnant with our third baby. I was jealous of the hens as I gathered their eggs. Resented the cows with their calves in the pasture. I even growled at the barn cats nursing their kittens. It was MY turn already! But Mother Nature, that old hag, had different ideas.

Then, as I was waddling back to the house, my ornery father-in-law drove up in his pickup and leaned out the window. Twinkle in his eye, he nodded toward the beach ball my maternity tent failed to hide and offered to hook up the cattle trailer, give me a lift to the hospital. I glared, then stared, then belly laughed. It was either that or cry. And, as they say, laughter is the best medicine, because a few days later we welcomed Baby Number Three.

Now, Three is in his thirties and I’m…not. But I am waiting again. This time for my book to find a home. It gestated forever but finally, FINALLY, it was time to query. Now I’m pacing and feeling envious again‒of acquisitions and launches and happy book birthdays. But I’m determined to stay busy, to refill the think tank, to start something new. Yes, waiting is as hard as ever. But it’s not the worst. That would be failing because I didn’t try.

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