Sometimes I write that amazing story and come up with a perfect title right away. Everything just falls into place; the title fits my story and its characters as if the writing gods themselves chose it especially for me. But most of the time, I don't.
Most of the time I struggle for hours to find a title, going through ones so stupid that they can't even be mentioned in this blog post. Sometimes finding a perfect title is like finding something to rhyme with orange: it's impossible (unless, of course, I make up a word).
But all the frustration, heartache, and tears suddenly become worth it when THE title comes to my brain. I could be walking to class or talking to a friend when it hits me, sudden and hard like a punch to chest. THE title.
And like that, my story is finished. Not neatly, of course, because I hate when writers wrap everything in a neat little bow. Please feel free to kick me if I ever do that. And not perfectly. Just finished.
Then I can breathe. Until I write another story and it begins all over again.