Here’s a secret that readers may not know: coming up with the perfect title can be more agonizing for an author than writing the entire book.
Titles matter. A good title hits the sweet spot between the reliable and the mysterious. On the one hand, it serves as a kind of shorthand, using familiar-sounding phrases to signal that this book will be like other books with similar titles; if I liked them, I’ll like this one too. At the same time, a title needs to offer something new and unknown, enticing the reader to read this book and no other so she can find out more.
Each of my book titles has gone through its own journey—from “working title” to “final title,” with stops in-between. And each time, just when I thought I would never find the right title, there was an AHA moment that came in a way I never would have expected.
For my latest novel, Roll the Sun Across the Sky, the saga had an extra twist or two.
I loved my original title. But, as often happens, another book came out with the nearly-identical title, and I had to start over. I mulled over ideas on long walks, in the shower, in that liminal space between sleep and awakening. Nothing felt right.
Meanwhile, my publisher asked me to fill out a cover design questionnaire, so I began to think about visual images. I immediately thought of the scarab beetle, which appears in the early chapters of the book that are set in Luxor, Egypt, where Arden (the protagonist) meets the man who will have such a major influence on her life. He tells her:
In ancient Egypt, the scarab represented rebirth. It was associated with Khepri, God of the rising sun. Just as Khepri reappears each morning—from darkness, as if from nowhere—to roll the sun across the heavens … the scarab beetle rolls its eggs in its own dung and pushes the ball across the ground, just as Khepri rolls the sun across the sky. Then, when it’s time, the little ones crawl out and new life begins—transformed, resurrected—from what seemed ugly and useless.

The ugly little dung beetle—an unlikely symbol of renewal, rebirth, and the possibility of rising again toward the light—was, in fact, the perfect image for my protagonist’s narrative arc. Arden does some reckless, harmful, even cruel things in her youth. Yet she never stops longing to be good, elusive as that “goodness” may seem. She asks herself, as the story invites readers to ask themselves: “Which acts define a person? Can someone be better than her worst acts?”
The more I thought about it, the more the scarab beetle seemed like the perfect image for the story, the perfect thread to weave through the stages of Arden’s life. With that in mind, I went back and incorporated small references into many of the key scenes.
(Fun scavenger hunt when you read the book: How many references to the scarab can you find, some overt and others more subtle?)

She thought of the scarab beetle, revered by the ancient Egyptians, and how its eggs lay buried in dung until new life was ready to emerge. Nourished by the dung itself, slowly transforming, until it was time to wake up, walk out. Survivors, like her.
That said, we did not use the image of a dung beetle for the cover! The rolling sun provided a far more appealing visual representation, as I think you’ll agree!

In fact, I settled on the photograph that we adapted for the cover long before I settled on the title. The title needed one more transformation, from a static image (scarab, sun) to a phrase that conveyed movement, agency, and renewal. In other words: a story.
I almost called the book Rolling the Sun Across the Sky, which seemed to convey a process over a span of time. That seemed to fit the thirty-five-year time frame of the novel. Yet it felt like the title of a Western novel, which this clearly is not. Then a friend suggested that I change Rolling to Roll: a call to action. The final tweak!
As my book “rolls out” into the world, I find myself loving the title more than ever. Even without the analogy of the scarab beetle (which a reader can’t know about, until she reads the book) the title is an evocation of dawn, of renewal and hope.
I can’t think of anything more meaningful right now.


For fans of dual-timeline, mother-daughter novels like The Paper Palace and Tom Lake, a compelling contemporary novel about a woman’s struggle to face her reckless history, with its trail of damage and deception, and her quest for the redemption that might still be possible.
From the ruins of Egypt to the privileged life of Manhattan’s Upper West Side, the story of a woman’s odyssey through the maze of love, loyalty, recklessness, and remorse, as the consequences of her acts ripple through the generations.
Approaching a milestone birthday, Arden Rice has seen it all: three marriages, hardship and wealth, choices she both regrets and defends, all fueled by the same fierce desire—to give her daughter the best possible life. At least, that’s what Arden tells herself.
But nothing is simple. Arden is haunted by her impetuous history, with its trail of damage and deception. Yet she’s finally made a life where she can be her best self—until the unthinkable happens, and a train engineer’s lapse in attention throws that life into chaos.
Secrets begin to unravel, and Arden finds herself questioning everything she thought she knew—along with her own role in shaping the disturbing person her daughter has become. As the stakes increase, especially for the vulnerable granddaughter who’s now in her care, Arden must face questions she’s spent a lifetime avoiding: Which acts define a person? Can someone be better than her worst acts?
For fans of dual-timeline and mother-daughter novels, a compelling story about a woman’s struggle to face her reckless history, with its trail of damage and deception, and her quest for the redemption that might still be possible.
Women's Fiction Family Life [She Writes Press, On Sale: May 13, 2025, Paperback / e-Book , ISBN: 9781647428990 / eISBN: 9781647429010]
Barbara Linn Probst is an award-winning author of contemporary women’s fiction living on an historic dirt road in New York’s Hudson Valley. Her acclaimed novels QUEEN OF THE OWLS (2020) and THE SOUND BETWEEN THE NOTES (2021) were Gold and Silver medalists for prestigious national awards, and THE SOUND BETWEEN THE NOTES was selected by Kirkus Reviews as one of the Best Indie Books of 2021. Barbara has also published over fifty essays on the craft of writing for sites such as Jane Friedman and Writer Unboxed, along with two nonfiction books. Her third novel THE COLOR OF ICE will be released in October 2022.
No comments posted.