Unfashionable thinking

I was over in the US late September, working on my book. There was a group of us authors-to-be and one topic was about choosing the right title. And that's where it all started to horribly wrong. Imagine, if you will, that you have had an idea for a book for several years. You've talked about it, skirted round the edges of it. actually seen people write stuff that's roughly in your area but without your 'edge' (oh, the vanity!). Finally, driven to action by endless queries of 'how's the book going?', I got it down - well, almost down.

The title should encapsulate the content, I thought. Mine had the word 'work' in it, but not in the sense of avoiding it, only doing 4 hours of it a week or even mircaulously finding a way of making all the money you need without doing any of it. Oh no.

Mine is about the joy of and necessity of work, for our growth, well being and souls just as much (if not more) as for paying the mortgage. It's about creating work you love and accepting that you always love all of it. It's about working like a grown up with grown ups and refusing to accept the 'reality' of the economy - by working.

Frankly, you would have thought I'd suggested we all start eating our own children for the reaction my suggestion elicited. Apparently, no-on wants to work any more. We all want freedom from work. And, if I go with my title, people will recoil in horror.

So I thought about it carefully. Very carefully. Then I thought 'sod it'.

So, Built to Work it is. Subtitle to come.

Sometimes you just have to say what needs to be said.