Using a famous name in a title is tricky. On the one hand, you draw readers in automatically: the weight of the known quantity kicks in and distinguishes your book from the rest. On the other, you are inviting comparison with a singularly gifted and enduring author whose accomplishment you cannot hope to equal. I always feel, too, that it’s not quite fair; you are piggy-backing on somebody else’s wholly created world and characters rather than going to the trouble of making your own.
BECOMING JANE EYRE, fortunately, isn’t one of those postmodern pastiches that mingles Jane Austen with zombies and sea mons