A young writer once came to a great old writer and asked him, "How do you come up with such marvelous titles? You see, I have written a novel of my own, but I cannot come up with a title for it."
The old writer stroked his beard and nodded his head for a few minutes, then finally asked, "Are there any bells in your novel?"
The young writer thought about it, and said, "No, no bells, sir."
"Ahhh....." said the old writer, nodding again, stroking his beard again. "Are there any trumpets?"
The young writer pondered again, and finally said, "No. No sir, there are no trumpets either."
"Haha!" laughed the old writer. "There's your title... 'No Bells, No Trumpets.'" |
