Except when it doesn’t. I think I wrote a while back about how coming up with the perfect title energized me to finish up a story I was working on – and it came out pretty good, too. Well, the same thing happened last night.

I’ve been working on a submission for an upcoming anthology called “Sex, Lies, and Private Eyes” and, though I love the idea I came up with, I wasn’t wild about how the story was going. The original title was “Legs”, after the ZZ Top song, then it became “Drop Dead Legs” (a No-Prize prize to the first person who can name the band and album. And hum a few bars…). So, what’s with all the song titles? I dunno. Apparently I’m channeling Jim Winter.

Anyway, I was sort of doodling around in the story, playing with what I’d already written, when I realized that my detective spends half his time shoving pictures in people’s faces. Hey, presto: “Pictures Of Lily” was born, and the female lead became Lily Fish – though she goes by Aimee Hathaway. Wouldn’t you, if you were named Lily Fish?

Now I’m all charged up and ready to roll, which is good since I only have 3 weeks to complete it. Deadlines do wonders for your motivation.