<sound of keys clattering>
Answer: no. The end. You can go enjoy a beer at your friendly local something2. Oh, more of a response needed? Ok, here goes...
Both pubs and fantasy authors attempt to find creative, interest-piquing, harmonious combinations of words hinting at what's inside. But pub owners have a significantly broader canvas to paint on. Their only limitations are “noun” and... that's it. Just noun. It is a conjunction of two nouns of any phyla, breed, or species, nothing more. Fantasy authors, however, are dealing with a significantly smaller canvas. The somethings must somehow link to story/world. It's natural then, that the limits of creativity in this area are more quickly discovered. To make this clear, let's look at a few recent fantasy titles. Tell me if they do not feel... limited after a dozen or so.
A Heart of Blood and Ashes by Milla Vane
The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo
House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin Craig
Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust
A Curse of Ash and Iron by Christine Norris
A Curse of Stone and Moonlight by Ashley Maker
The Garden of Promises and Lies by Paula Brackston
The Labyrinth of Scions and Sorcery by Curtis Craddock
Conspiracy of Blood and Smoke by Anne Blankman
Daughter of Lies and Ruin by Jo Spurrier
Curse of Gold and Ashes by Ashley Hay
Curse of Ash and Blood by Lou Wilham
A Court of Thorn and Roses by Sarah Maas
Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi
Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor
A Cathedral of Myth and Bone by Kat Howard
Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan
Sisters of Sword and Song by Rebecca Ross
Shades of Milk and Honey by Mary Robinette Kowal
A Touch of Stone and Snow by Milla Vane
A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire by Jennifer Armentrout
And yes, A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin
In case you missed it, that's a fair amount of alliteration and 4 bloods, 3 bones, 4 fires, 2 snows, 4 curses, 2 girls, 4 ashes, 2 lies, and 1 sword. (Go figure, 1 sword. Who would have thought???) Regardless, the titles sound samey, yes? Thought so. Fantasy, despite the infinite freedom inherent to the word, is, in fact, limited when something3 is the title strategy.
But the more important question: Does that list excite you to read? Do you want to jump in and taste the flavors the way you do coming to an ice cream truck? Still unsure? Let's see what else can be gleaned from the pattern.
One observation is that the authors seem to feel the need to impress upon would-be readers some sense of visceral existence—that the story waiting behind these covers will touch the roots of life in dramatic, animal fashion. Blood, bone, ash, iron, fire, blah, blah, blah. Get ready for an in-your-face story about the exigencies and vicissitudes of life!, they say. But is that really the case? Are the hard realities of life laid bare in these books? Or is it a case of: I say the sky is purple, therefore it is purple? We need to go deeper.
Another observation is that a band wagon seems to have formed. Put wheels and headboard on that list, add a couple banjos, jugs, and washboards and voila! More and more authors are hopping onboard, hoping for a ride to Profitsville. George R.R. Martin did it with a Song of Ice and Fire, why not me? And indeed, why not you? For every bandwagon writer, there must be thousands of bandwagon readers, yes?
And the third observation, one to get me in hot water with certain groups, is that the majority of the authors who subscribe to the something3 methodology appear to be women. Why? I don't know. But I'm sure there are psychologists and sociology experts out there who can answer.
Women writers, trendiness, and pretensions to Serious Literature. Those are the observable points of the pattern. Save the women writers, it doesn't look so appetizing when laid bare like that, does it?
Looking at the evidence, we have a choice: either A) the significant number of titles with said pattern is a true phenomenon, i.e. happening randomly and entirely independent of every other occurrence, or B) it's not random, i.e. it has a source, a reason, or set of reasons. Which do you think? Mother Mary's face in a tortilla, or just dots on a piece of baked cornflower?
For once, I side with the Mother Mary crowd. (Feels strange.) It didn't just happen. It's by semi-design. People see something popular and try to do the same, hoping for the same popularity. It's recognizable human behavior—just like mullets, 90s garbage bag coats, bell bottoms, and any other bit of fashion you want to cite. Which means, something3 will also disappear someday. People will say: “Oh yeah, I remember you! You were one of the something3 writers!” Did you, dear reader, catch that? The person didn't say “Oh yeah, you were the author of X.” Instead, they referenced a fad. You were blended with a group. Yes, you had a mullet.
Which means the blurring happens a second time. Not only do those titles blue together here in this article, but they also blur together in the future. Twenty years from now thinking back to reviews, awards nominees, book shelves, e-reader lists, goodreads, etc. people will get confused. Was it Children of Blood and Buckets? Tribes of Sea and Salt? Whiskers of Peacock and Jelly? Crumbs of Authenticity and Fortitude? Such titles are the poetry equivalent of 'Roses are red, violets are blue...”. Functional but lacking soul, blurring into an intro line...
Such titles also smack of market saturation. In a lean market there is less room for conformity. But in our market today, one flooded with fantasy books, mediocre efforts at titling can become a noticeable subset. There is a place for such a phenomenon to develop and sustain itself. Until it can't. Once the market starts pivoting back toward lean, this will dry up. (And the rats will fight over the crumbs, again.<cue evil laugh>)
Looking at the situation from another angle, I get that there is a chunk of literary fiction which is pretentious. But if there is one thing most literary authors feel keenly, it's the desire to create something unique, to take an obtuse angle and use it to present or explore a specific facet of existence. In short, to be Art. In case you were unaware, proper art usually keeps its distance from bandwagons. Yeah, yeah, Van Gogh is now on coffee cups and Picasso's name is a running joke. (What are you drawing there, Picasso?”) But my assumption is those painters are rolling in their graves, just as Mary Shelley is upset at the idea her monster has become a Herman Munster plushie. Writers and artists who want their names to be remembered in history try to break molds, not conform to them. And taking this one step further, such writers would try to express their vision and representation of the “exigencies and vicissitudes of life” in more indirect, subtler terms. Rather than slapping you in the face with blood and bones, they would try to show these concepts in more poetic or metaphoric ways. Again, not all literary writers, but most.
I realize I'm coming across as elitist and condescending. But a spade needs to be called a spade. When an author puts medium effort into titling their year-or-more's worth of storytelling, I have medium desire to read their storytelling. I understand creating a title is hard, especially in a saturated market. I know Jimmy Page stole all the good riffs. But have some self-respect. Art is individual. If you can't think of a proper title for your book, at least fail trying. Readers are more likely to remember a shitty title than a conformist one twenty years from now... Shrill and Beak? Duds and Bongle? Sugar and Booger? Fats and Swing? Chat GPT, help me!!!
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