Destination Appellation

A Lighthearted, medium-budget British television show that would run 3 seasons but gain a small cult following. The premise: something like Lost in Austen, but in reverse, wherein each episode would feature a character or two from Dickens suddenly appearing in 21st c. London.

The characters’ appearance would always be presaged by something eerily anachronistic—but small—occurring to a contemporary character: a section of street torn up and so rough as to be almost impassable, pocked with little mud puddles and mysterious shadows; a tiny old woman in tattered lace is spied weeping to herself in a train station—etc. Our hapless modern Londoner bustles out of the rain into a charming coffee shop and apologizes for his/her lateness to waiting friends by describing (animatedly) what was just seen and exclaiming humorously, “it was downright Dickensian!” Then BLAMO! there’s Little Nell. Or Cousin Joe. Or Martha Cratchit. 

Given the number of Dickens characters, this series could obviously continue much longer than its fated 3 seasons.

I do not care if this has been the punchline of a really corny joke since time immemorial: it’s a humdinger of a good title. And the Lady Authoress was nice to me on Twitter, so everything’s settled.

Located in the upstairs of an inn on a shaded lane just outside of the college town. Frequented by only the most serious PhD candidates in the Arts and Humanities who gather here to drink, peer through the gloom, and of course, problematize. Doing this in a garret space makes it all feel especially legitimate.

According to Google there is already at least one “Wrapture” that is in the same industry as mine. HOWEVER. Wrapture as I envision it is distinct in its “take-away” capacity. You bring the gifts; we wrap them with more speed and flair than you knew was possible, according to your specifications.

Most importantly, you get to leave speedily. Since that’s what the Rapture will be like. Whenever it actually happens.

A new approach to vegetarian cookery, wherein traditional (and arbitrary) dividing lines between fruits and vegetables are exploded, giving birth to revolutionary and transformative cuisine. A self-published Kindle Edition.

First, the data:

I’m Over All That: And Other Confessions by Shirley MacLaine

Hot tips on naming a periodical from a solicitous little brochure kindly sent me by the Library of Congress this afternoon. My personal favorite is the existentially dire warning that with a name-change, “Your hard-earned identity may be lost.”

“What Should I Consider in Choosing a Title?
Your title should:
• Be unique to avoid confusion with other publications
• Be distinctive
• Be concise
• Have important identifying words at the beginning to help readers find your title
in large files and catalogs
• Avoid words indicating frequency, since frequency can change
• Avoid initialisms or acronyms; their filing location is unpredictable

How Should I Present My Title?:
• Use unambiguous typography
• Clearly separate any logos from the title
• Place the organization’s name in a different location from your title
• Clearly distinguish your title from any subtitles
• Present your title in the same way everywhere on an issue and from one issue to
another
• Do not modify your title in any way unless you intend a deliberate title change. (A change of typography or addition of cover wording may be misinterpreted by a
library as a title change.)

Why are Title Changes a Problem?
• Your hard-earned identity may be lost
• Title changes cost libraries money to re-catalog and re-shelve the title
• In collections which are shelved by title, your publication may be split up among
its various titles
• By calling attention to your title, a title change may trigger a library to reevaluate its need for your serial

(excerpted from “What’s In a Name?”, US ISSN Center)

Discovered in a Shelf Awareness from last week, Mable’s Fable’s is about as perfect as they come: short, rhyming, evocative of all things cozy. Also: named after a cat (pictured very proprietarily above).

On the Main Street of a small Vermont town: A relaxed coffeehouse hang-out that is equal parts comfortable and stimulating. Feminist reading group hosted twice-monthly; occasional, but always rousing, quiz nights.

This one’s pretty obvious: a very literary erotica quarterly.