Tag Archives: Broken Flute Cave

What’s in a Title?

Last week I wrote about the opening lines in a story. But before you read the opening, you read the title. Do you struggle to come up with appropriate, catchy titles for your stories? Read on…

Some writers have no problem with titles. In fact, there are authors who think up a clever title, and write a story to suit it.

On the other hand, some start with a ‘working title,’ intending to come up with a real title later. When that time arrives, they get stuck, unable to create a suitable title. Writing the 5000-word story was no problem, but coming up with just 1-10 words is maddening.

Author Stephen Pressfield offers some great advice in this blogpost. He says to let the theme of your story suggest the title, and he gives some great examples.

In her post on titles, author Lynne Lumsden Green goes a bit further. She says a title should (1) be memorable, (2) encompass the theme of the story, and (3) not give too much away.

I agree, though I don’t think you should agonize over your title. I’d spend more time on the story’s opening and closing lines. Even so, I often brainstorm about 20-30 titles before hitting on the right one.

Be aware, when choosing your title, even words like ‘the’ can be important. That word denotes one particular thing. To take an example from my stories, “Moonset” (from the Re-Terrify anthology) evokes a periodic event that happens daily. “The Moonset” suggests one particular setting of the moon. The one-word version was more appropriate for my story.

Here are some explanations for the titles of my stories:

“Broken Flute Cave” is also the setting of the story, a cavern so-named because a modern discoverer found what looked like broken flutes inside. My story is the origin story, or pourquoi story of the last Native American flute player to occupy that cave.

“Reconnaissance Mission” (in the Not Far From Roswell anthology) has a double meaning in this story. The tale follows Army Sergeant Major Edgar Allan Poe as he participates in a recon mission to Nuevo México. There he finds his is not the only team conducting such a mission.

“The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” (in the Quoth the Raven anthology) is a sequel to Edgar Allan Poe’s story “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.” I could hardly have titled it any other way.  

“Instability” (in the Dark Luminous Wings anthology) is another title with double meanings. A medieval monk builds wings and tries to fly, but can’t control his flight. Moreover, some of the other monks question his sanity.

“Time’s Deformèd Hand” is a phrase from the Shakespeare play “The Comedy of Errors.” My story—in the clockpunk genre—has many references to time, clocks, and calendars, and errors associated with time measurement. The grave accent mark (`) means to pronounce that usually-silent ‘e’ as you would in ‘ranted.’

“Last Vessel of Atlantis” (combined in one volume with “Rallying Cry”) evokes the wonder of that legendary lost continent. The word ‘vessel’ has two meanings in the story—a ship and a container of liquids. In fact, the first published version of that story was titled “The Vessel.”

“The Six Hundred Dollar Man” references the 1970s TV show “The Six Million Dollar Man” but mine is a steampunk version taking place in the American Wild West.

The next time you’re stressing about how to title a story, you’ll remember the profound and timeless advice of the one who titles himself—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 28, 2021Permalink

The Story Behind the Story—Broken Flute Cave

The CHILLFILTR Review just published my short story, “Broken Flute Cave,” and it’s available to read online here. This historical fantasy tale is well outside my normal line, and here is the story behind that story—

Some years ago, a friend of my father shared her interest in Native American flutes with him. Being curious about everything, he became interested himself, particularly with the Anasazi Flute, more aptly named the Ancestral Pueblo Flute. These differ from most other Native American flutes in that they have no ‘fipple’ mouthpiece. An archaeologist named Earl Morris discovered these flutes in 1931, lying in a cave within Prayer Rock Valley in Arizona.

Here is where stories get warped from retelling, often becoming more dramatic and less mundane than the truth. The way I understood the story was that Morris, familiar with standard Native American flutes, saw no fipple on these and concluded they must be missing their mouthpiece, so named the cavern “Broken Flute Cave.”

Later, (again, this may be apocryphal) someone realized the flutes must be intact, but they seemed impossible to play. Decades after their discovery, someone hit on the right way to play the flutes—the proper angle to hold them, the proper way to shape your lips—and the resulting sound seemed haunting and magical.

As a storyteller and a person intrigued by rediscovering lost technologies, I liked this account. I thought about the idea of a musician from a now-forgotten tribe, unable to pass on the techniques of making and playing these flutes, dying in that cave. Only after hundreds of years would they be found, and more decades would pass before their sound would be heard again.

Those thoughts percolated in my mind for years before I wrote “Broken Flute Cave.” My protagonist, Hototo, bears a name meaning ‘warrior spirit who sings.’ For a while, archaeologists called his tribe the Anasazi, but he wouldn’t have called himself that. Anasazi means ‘enemy,’ so that’s the name by which other tribes called them. The flute-making tribe vanished, leaving only their pueblos, flutes, and other artifacts behind.

In writing the story, I sought to link Hototo’s time to ours, and to portray the loss of names, techniques, skills, and civilizations through the failure to properly pass them on. Some may get rediscovered, many will not. Although these losses to time are sad, perhaps we can all learn from Hototo to look on the bright side.

In fact, it’s likely that the archaeologist Morris knew the flutes were intact, but named the cavern Broken Flute Cave because some of the instruments were truly broken. Further, it appears he figured out how to play them right away. However, it did take several decades for Anasazi Flutes to catch on in popularity.

As an interesting sidelight, my dad noticed a similarity between the flutes and common PVC pipe, so he bought some pipe and made his own. That intrigued me, so I made some, too. Pictured is a replica flute, and my four PVC flutes.

On the rare occasions when spirits smile on me, I can get decent sounds from my homemade flutes, but I’d need a lot of practice to produce enjoyable music. There are several good audio clips on YouTube featuring musicians playing ‘Anasazi flutes’ well, and I think you’d like the pure, rich tone they make.

If you’re wondering what such a flute would sound like in a cave, you can read “Broken Flute Cave,” but don’t listen to any PVC pipes played by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 6, 2020Permalink