Everyone says that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but of course we all do. Presented with an overwhelming array of options, a reader has limited ways to figure out which book on the shelf is worth $20+ – not to mention hours of precious time. The best covers, I think, reveal much about the tenor and style of the book while stimulating the browser’s curiosity. (Recent covers that spring to mind include Lush Life, by Richard Price; Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert; The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski; and memoirist and book designer Julie Metz’s cover for her own book, Perfection.)
Some of my own book covers have been more successful than others. “Cover consultation” is a standard part of most writers’ book contracts, which means, essentially, that the publisher presents the writer with one or two options, and if the writer strenuously objects they may be willing to try again. Ultimately, though, the publisher usually makes the final decision, saying – with justification – that they have more experience, understand the market better, and are, after all, in the business of selling books. With my own covers, I won some and lost some; usually there was some kind of compromise. (You can see the covers here and judge for yourself. Which ones work best?)
When my editor and I began talking about the cover of Bird in Hand, I didn’t have a specific thought in mind. We’d recently changed the title, and I was still stuck on ideas that had to do with metaphorical representations of a four-way stop. So without any input from me, they came up with this option:
Isn’t this a beautiful image? The saturated colors are lovely; the typeface is strong but simple, and the picture is arresting. But I felt that it was too, well, female – and perhaps a bit literal (yep, those birds are indeed in her hands). My editor wrote, “Our sales force likes this jacket very much; they feel that, as a marketing tool, as a way to catch people’s attention and get them to pick it up from tables at bookstores, it’s very effective.” And I completely understood that. But I still didn’t think it was right for this book. Bird in Hand is about four people with complex and clashing emotions, and I wanted the image to convey unrest. The sales force disagreed, but my editor was willing to go back to the drawing board. (This image is now the cover of the international edition.)
The next three covers they sent were wrong for all different reasons:
I understood what they were doing here: four characters, four relationships, crossed wires. But as a friend asked, “Is this book about a concentration camp?” Here’s the next one:
My novel takes place in New York and its suburbs. To me, this looks like a bucolic Midwestern building in a field. And then there’s this:
Which I admit is a bit better. The problem, ultimately, was that these covers struck me as generic. They didn’t convey anything in particular about my novel.
What often happens is that the writer may not have a clear idea of what she wants at first, but being presented with ideas that don’t seem right clarifies her opinion. (This is, of course, no fun for any art director.) So after getting all these options, I put some hard work into figuring out what I did want, as opposed to what I didn’t. Bird in Hand is about the dissolution of a marriage (among other things), so I wanted to picture a domestic scene with something slightly awry. I envisioned a marital bed in the foreground—but with an unsettling component, something “off.” I imagined a window with a surprising view or an odd picture on the wall.
I was inspired by two paintings that hang on the walls in my study: “Beginning” by Laura Tryon Jennings, a rendering of the room I stay in at my parents’ house in Bass Harbor, Maine, in the summer – and “Rumpled Sheets” by Jessica Dunne, which depicts a bed at the VCCA, the artists’ colony where I met this wonderful artist. (She did this painting while we were there.)
After discussing all of this with my editor, she went to the art director. Several weeks later, they came back with this:
I knew immediately that this was the one. It retains the color palette and typeface of the first cover but has a whole different feel. I love the bed, with its carefully folded back covers, as if someone got up and out. These sheets clearly aren’t rumpled in passion. I love the odd little Audubon-like photo-realist picture high on the wall. (What’s it doing there?) I love the juxtaposition of the soft orange blanket with the cool, shadowed sheets. This cover, to me, has mystery and drama and strangeness, and perfectly conveys the mood of my novel.
But what do you think? I’d love to know!
I agree with most everything you’ve said. I’ve looked at the international cover on Amazon before and remarked to myself how, while I like the color palette and the general tone, it did seem a little literal and not *quite* right. I love the cover for BiH. It’s understated and clean.
You’re also completely right, of course, that a good cover can do wonders for book sales (and vice-versa). Case(s) in point: the one and only reason I first picked up Max Barry’s wildly underrated “Jennifer Government” is because it’s got one of the most arresting–and just plain coolest–covers I’ve ever seen; as it turns out, It’s also a fabulous read. On the flip side, I didn’t read David Sedaris’ “Me Talk Pretty One Day” until I found a remaindered copy, because I couldn’t stand to hold the roughly textured cover in my hands.
the first cover suggests pregnancy and choices to me.
the next three are just nothingy.
i really like the one they finally came up with, it reminds me of edward hopper, which seems to me to be a relevant visual reference.
I know we’re not supposed to judge a book but with so many books to choose from it’s hard not to. But I’m not just looking for a book to be lovely, I expect that it’s telling me something about the story as well.
I love this post! I like seeing the evolution of the covers and thinking about the relationship between graphic design, marketing and written content.
While the first cover is pretty, I agree that it looks too feminine. There’s something about the white dress and holding a nest that also seems really youthful. If I were at a bookstore, I would assume that a book with that cover were about childhood innocence.
The wire covers are a little boring. The last cover is by far the best. The blue looks so fresh, the bedding awry but not violently so. The rumpled covers suggest movement. It’s as if things are happening before I even open the book. I also like the sensible typeface…such a different feel than the loud or squiggly fonts greeting me when I step into Borders!
Christina, great post because you’re opening up the process to your readers, and that is captures the imagination of readers and book lovers. Imagine if publishers did more of this!!!!!! It would be great for them. Terrific post. Great jacket.
It’s so challenging to try to sum up so many pages with one image. Thanks for exploring this process from the author’s side…I have been on both sides of the project–I do think you ended up with a cover that is engaging for the bookstore or amazon browser!
Christina,
I simply love your blog posts. Book jackets intrigue me because I am also a photographer and former choreographer. I do believe the jacket is very, very important. What first strikes me about yours are the colors. Beautifully balanced. I admit I love the international cover even though it is indeed “literal.” Your ultimate cover works perfectly. Working from the art pieces as inspiration was a great idea. Thank you so much for sharing your journey with all of us. Much appreciated. I feel as if you are sitting in the room with me. Best to you,
Julie Maloney
You ended up with the right cover. I love seeing this sort of process- especially when it has the perfect resolution! The final cover blows the other ones away. While it might have felt awkward sticking to your guns, you totally, completely, did the right thing 🙂
I LOVE the BiH cover, Christina! And I admire so much your turning down that first cover with the nest — it’s absolutely lovely, which makes it so great that you stuck with your gut about it not being right.
I know so well the feeling of not knowing what you want, but knowing very well what you DON’T — indeed, a thing that drives art directors crazy, understandably…
For the year before my book came out I was the editor of a trade magazine and had a terrible relationship with the art director — we had very different sensibilities, and every month was a tug-o-war between them. Because of that experience, I had very low hopes for my cover — never in a million years did I expect to like it, nevermind be thrilled with it, on the first pass. What a miracle! The stars aligned for me and I got designer who somehow has exactly my taste.
I guess it’s exactly what you said — we win some, we lose some. So thrilled to see you winning this round!
As a bookseller, I can tell you how mightily important the correct cover is to the sales of your book. I immediately liked the cover with the bed.
What a fascinating glimpse into the evolution of your book cover. The final is beautiful–promises just enough mystery to make me want to crack it open. Will have to check this one out!