“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
This may be good advice for nearly every aspect of life, but when it comes to actual books, readers rarely follow it. For fiction in particular, cover design is almost as important as the story behind it. In fact, some would argue that when it comes to books the outside is more important that what’s on the inside. They may have a valid point.
The cover is your first impression, your meet-cute in the parlance of romance. It’s Hermione’s raised hand and darting glances saying ‘pick me!’ In a digital world where thumbnails reduce titles to illegible scribbles, it’s the gestalt of the cover that stops the scroll. In the bookstore, it may be a head-tilting title or a big name author on the spine that stays the browsing hand. Once tilted out for a curious peek though, the cover determines whether the book gets pushed back into the rank and file of the shelves or is lifted from check by jowl obscurity for further inspection. Sure, the blurb, some sample pages, and word of mouth might seal the deal, but if the book never gets picked up in the first place, none of these come into play.
“A picture is worth a thousand words.”
But is a thousand words enough to covey all that a cover needs to say in passing? Regardless of search term or shelving, the cover needs to define the book’s genre, subject, and mood. It needs to insinuate the subplots, tease its tropes, and play up the mystery of its motifs. In genre fiction, a story represents a contract with the reader. The cover outlines the terms that the reader will expect the story to deliver.
The cover has to ignite a desire in the prospective reader to know more, and it must do this with no more than a single image, sometimes as little as a single color, and the title. Even the words in the title are part of the image: fonts are pictorial letters that convey meaning beyond what they explicitly spell out. The cover must also walk a tightrope between being consistent with trends in the genre while also finding a way to stand out.
With all this riding on it, creating a book cover is a critical, pressure-filled stage in the birthing of a book. Being an artist as well as an author on a tight budget, I had both the luxury and the torment of creating my own cover for The Guild Master’s Daughter. The process was filled with dead ends and discovery aplenty. In the event that readers and other writers might find the evolution of a cover from concept to completion interesting, I decided to smother my self-consciousness and open my sketchbook. What follows is a guided tour through my sketches and drafts replete with all their flaws, some fixable, some fatal. It truly was an evolution as I discarded elements that seemed inspired at conception but were ultimately untenable, and carried forward the successful bits, including a few happy accidents.
The Evolution- Conception
Setting the scene
The Guild Master’s Daughter is an historical fantasy set in Regency era New York City about an artistically gifted young woman who is denied access to a magical Ink that makes the imaginary come to life. At the highest level, my cover needed to convey clearly the historical setting and the fantastical elements, both as enticement and warning. If I went too heavy on the historical side, I might fail to attract my fantasy audience while simultaneously disappointing more literal readers when they encountered the fantastical elements. And vice versa.
The story features a number of recurring images and symbolic or otherwise significant elements, all of which I considered for the cover in one way or another. One of the most prominent was the book’s commitment to historical artists and their works. My first concept for the cover, and the one most quickly discarded, was to use one of these artworks either in its original form or a self-made reproduction. These were the main contenders:
The upper left image, The Flower Girl, and upper right image, White Plume, were both painted by Charles Ingham, the mentor and love interest in the story. (White Plume is only preserved in an engraving by Durand after the original). Without regard to what art historians might say, I am convinced that both of these paintings feature the same model, a young woman whom the artist found particularly intriguing. Faith’s appearance was based on these pictures. Unfortunately, neither image on its own even whispered fantasy.
The top central image is Woman Clothed as the Sun by Benjamin West. This painting has a cameo in Chapter Two. Here, with the moon, burst of light, angels, and Leviathan snapping at the ascending woman’s feet, there was far more fantasy going on. In fact, this image is a perfect allegory for Faith’s journey in the story and one I was thrilled to discover while researching West. On the other hand, the heavily Biblical tones- it depicts a scene from Revelation- might be consistent with the characters’ lived experience but could mislead a potential reader.
The bottom two paintings in the grid above are by Rachel Ruysch, a Dutch Master who serves as inspiration (and a point of conflict) in the story. (Actually, the painting on the right is both of and by Ruysch: she painted the still life in the background and Michiel van Musscher painted her painting it. This “dual portrait” is a recent acquisition by the Met.) The dark backgrounds and stark lighting of her florals definitely have a tell-me-more mystery that is consistent with fantasy novels and also hint at a historical setting, albeit the wrong era. While I did not discard this idea wholesale, I was discouraged by two things. First, my ability to reproduce her artistry in any respectful way. Second, floral and sword covers were the dominant trend in “romantasy” at the time. I did not want to get lost in the noise, nor did I want to promise the reader things that the book wouldn’t deliver.
Although I toyed with adding a sea serpent to the background of the White Plume to give it that fantasy flare, ultimately I decided not to use historical art for my cover for several reasons. If I were to use one of these paintings in its original form, copyright became an immediate issue. While the originals are old enough to be in the public domain, the photographs of them would likely be under copyright. For an author short of staff and funds, securing those permissions did not feel worth the task. Another issue was confidence in my ability to do justice to any of them in a reproduction.
However, the most important reason that I decided not to use any of these as covers is a critical consideration that too many authors (and publishers) overlook. The cover has to be intriguing before the reader has read the book. These historical works are interesting lore only after you’ve read the story. Before that, they aren’t going to catch your eye unless you are in the market for an art history book or an anthology of historical literature.
Developing a theme
After some brainstorming and endless scrolling to see what was trending for covers in my genre, I started a short list of ideas. In the grid below, you can see my concept thumbnails, including using White Plume, Woman Clothed as the Sun, and a still life, along with designs that play with other scenes and symbols in the story. There are sea serpents and phoenixes, a floating island, and some kind of play on reflections/mirrors. One of my favorite concepts from the beginning was exclusively graphic design. Not only did these kinds of covers catch my own eye, but the scrollwork I envisioned was consistent with the embellishments of the Regency era and would allow me to incorporate easter eggs related to all of the story elements on my list. I was particularly enchanted with the sea serpent-headed arabesque that I imagined underlining the title. Unfortunately, I was convinced it was impossible to hand-draw it without it looking like a wonky mess, and I had no experience with digital art other than some inexpert photo bashing, so I explored other themes.
As you can tell from the early sketches, tea sets, plumed pens, (how much more Regency can you get?) and apples, lots of apples, were my primary focus. You can also tell I was overzealous about incorporating absolutely every symbolic element that came to mind. I had some vague sense of hurting an idea’s feelings by excluding it. I was also very concerned with investing my historical foundations with fantastical appeal and threw the whole lot of incongruent symbols, from swirling seas and flaming feathers, into the mix. Knowing so much about the story behind the cover, I easily lost myself to the thrill of my clever symbolism and insider knowledge. When I considered these sketches from the point of view of the uninitiated, I realized it was an overcomplicated, incomprehensible jumble.
Determined to simplify things- after all, clean, elegant covers also catch my eye- I pared down my concept to one of the core symbols of my story: the apple. These iterations were done in pastel on the limited color range of paper I had available. The resulting compromise in background color would be a critical issue later on. Getting clear, color balanced, evenly lit digital images of hand-drawn art is also problematic, but I would scale that cliff when I got to it.
A single apple signified a great deal to me as the author but conveyed neither Regency nor fantasy, I incrementally complicated the design until, once again, I was approaching chaos. At this time, though, I had one brilliant flash of inspiration: the cover would be a black and white apple, its colors revealed by spilled Ink dripping down its sides and in the apple’s reflection in the pooling Ink below it. While I still think this idea has merit, my execution left a lot to be desired. The best thing to come from that experiment was the switch from a feather to a crystal pen and the sea serpent rising from the Ink.
Although a few of these explorations had promise, none of them felt right. In frustration, I consulted my favorite florist, Barbara. I buy cheap flowers every week (because why not?), and Barbara is an avid fantasy reader who pulls no punches. She confirmed for me what I had secretly feared: apples signal fairytale. Unless I punched it way up with some snake action, the apple was more Snow White than the Garden of Eden I was after. And even if I added a snake, nothing said Regency or magic.
Trying to break new ground, I went in a completely different direction. Two mythical creatures, Leviathan (embodiment of Faith’s fear and self-doubt) and the phoenix (Faith’s hope and power) are critical to the story. Giving free rein to symbolism, I put the phoenix in a Regency style birdcage suspended above Leviathan in a roiling sea. It needed a little refinement, and I wasn’t sure I loved the brilliant red, gold, blue color scheme, but I liked the composition, particularly the figure eight formed by the serpent and the bird’s tail. And, it was metaphorically perfect. Thinking I might have a winner, I digitized it and tried to add the title. I immediately discovered that the Regency style font that I had painstakingly selected was a disaster against such a detailed background. The idea of choosing another font made me want to take a nap.
So I did.
The Evolution- Quickening
When I woke up, I started fresh. Looking over all my attempts, I noted what I loved and what had failed. I loved the pen and the serpent in the Ink. I still looked longingly at my scrollwork concept. I also knew what color scheme and background I really wanted and that the papers and media I had available would never achieve the color or lighting I wanted. The only thing to do was go digital.
My own iPad at the time was so outdated that it could do little more than download email or display a photo, so I grabbed my son’s school iPad when he wasn’t using it. I installed Procreate and dove in with both feet. I learned on the fly with experimentation and a lot of YouTube videos, creating layer by layer the image now clear in my mind. As anticipated, the scrollwork was the hardest. The Apple pencil clicked and slid on the screen giving me wobbly lines until I discovered smoothing techniques. The miracle of Procreate’s symmetry feature meant I only had to master the scrollwork on one side and its perfect duplicate appeared on the other. I rejoiced at the ability to resize and move elements, adjusting the composition to accommodate the text and art perfectly. I was overwhelmed by the range of brushes, but quickly found some favorites (though I probably got a little carried away with the flare until a later moment of sober reflection). It was like painting with light. Or maybe the Ink. In all, it was a revelatory experience.
The Evolution- Manifestation
In the end, I am very happy with the cover I created. I’m sure someone more proficient with the digital tools, including my future self, could point out flaws or ways it might have been improved. I’m also certain that it’s not the only cover that could or would have worked. In fact, some version of my earlier attempts may one day grace a new edition. In the end though, what I came up with felt right. I managed to marry Regency and fantasy, simple and intricate, while incorporating all the themes and symbolism I desired. It’s consistent with my genre but unique enough to stand out. I think you can be safe judging this book by its cover.
And, of course, if this cover has caught your eye and you want to know more about the story, go here.
I’d also be interested to hear your thoughts on these attempts? Was there an idea that you liked better? Something I overlooked completely? Let me know in the comments!
Very interesting! Read and enjoyed the well written book. Looking forward to your next book.