t away, too, or sell it for a song, which is
bad business." Let the title suggest the theme of the story, by all
means; but keep your climax, your "big" scene, safely under cover
until the moment comes to "spring it" upon the spectators and leave
them gasping, as it were, at the very unexpectedness of it. Avoid
titles beginning with "How" or "Why," for they are prone to lead in
this direction. A good exception is the well-known play, "Why Smith
Left Home."

If you use a quotation or a motto for a title, be sure it is not
overworked. Variations of "The Way of the Transgressor," "And a
Little Child Shall Lead Them," "Thou Shalt Not Kill," and "Honesty Is
the Best Policy" are moss-covered.

Avoid baldly alliterative titles, such as "The Deepening of
Desolation," "Elizabeth's Elopement," and "Tom Truxton's Trust." Had
not the three elements mentioned in the title, "Sun, Sand and
Solitude," practically made the story possible, it would never have
been used; even so, it is really too alliterative. Usually, the
over-use of alliteration is artificial and suggests a strained effort
to be original.

For more than one reason, names, as titles for photoplays, are not
very desirable, especially for original stories. To entitle a
photoplay "Andrew Jackson," or "Jane Shore," if the plot is chiefly
concerned with either of those two personages, is, of course, the
proper thing; but the class of historical stories indicated by these
or similar titles is usually turned out by the film company's own
staff of writers. Once in a while, however, it happens that an
original story of modern life is written around one character who so
completely dominates the action that the name constitutes the very
best title that could be given to it. Two good examples of stories
having names as titles are "Mickey," in which Mabel Normand played the
title role, and "Innocent" (the name of the heroine), produced by
Pathe and featuring Fannie Ward.

One-word titles are good only when they are especially apt. Such
titles as "Jealousy," "Retribution," "Chains," "Rivals" and
"Memories" have been worn threadbare.

"Eschew titles that are gloomy, as 'The Sorrow of an Old Convict,'
Loti; or old style, 'Christian Gellert's Last Christmas,' Auerbach; or
trite, 'The Convict's Return,' Harben; or newspapery, 'Rescued by a
Child;' or highly fantastic, 'The Egyptian Fire Eater,' Baumbach; or
anecdotal, 'A Fishing Trip;' or sentimental, 'Hope,' Bremer; or
repellent,