(no subject)
This got a lot longer than I expected.
I want to talk about cover design. On the subway this morning, I saw a young woman reading this book (or, more accurately, an ARC of it). I couldn't read the title, but the cover image intrigued me.
I squinted and squinted until I could figure out the word "society," and then squinted some more until I read "benedict." Why?
Because the cover made me curious. I wanted to know what the book was so I could look it up on Amazon when I got to work.
That's some damn good cover design. I'm having trouble settling on exactly what intrigued me. I'm sure the Edward-Gorey-esque art was the big factor. I couldn't see the details, but I could see this gothicky/Victorian ramshackle house and the muted colors on the pale background. The design was playing on the reader's (well, my) familiarity with a particular style of art that is associated with dark whimsy. Reading the advance review of the book, I see that "dark whimsy" is accurate.
The Gorey reference also made me suspect the book might have some brain-fodder, and not be just whimsy. The advance review seems to bear that out, though of course I would prefer to read and judge for myself. (Why do I associate Gorey with brain-fodder? 1. Because Gorey's humor requires a brain and some education to understand it. 2. Gorey did the opening animation for the PBS Mystery series, and PBS is the channel of liberal intellectuals.)
The fact that it was a line-drawing made me suspect it was a novel rather than, say, a nonfiction history book. Something in the design also made me wonder if it was a YA novel (it is), but I wasn't positive. I think it was the scrolly thing for the title that made me suspect that; that's a bit more whimsical than the art alone. Further, if the book were for adults, or were nonfiction, the title would almost certainly have been much larger. Grown-ups like titles or names. Children respond to pictures.
(Grown-ups also respond to pictures, as my reaction here demonstrates, but we respond to words more than children do. Consequently, one of the ways to differentiate the age-level of a book is in how much emphasis is on the art and how much on the type.)
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I have one more observation to make about this design. The book is not yet published, and when it is, it will be in hardcover. The young woman on the subway reading was reading a trade paperback. I assumed it was a real book, not an ARC. ARCs are often printed on the same presses as regular books (as opposed to using POD technology), so it's possible that the book was printed just like a regular paperback.
More likely, though, it was printed POD. POD has gotten to be good enough that the quality is not distinguishable from a regular book, at least not until you hold it in your hands (and often not then either).
And yet I am consistently able to pick out the self-pubbed and very-small-press books in the hucksters' room at a convention. I can spot them at ten paces, easy.
THAT, my friends, is what a full-fledged, professional publishing house does. In addition to having distribution and sales channels, they have honest-to-Crom, BFA-degreed, well-trained cover designers.
Yes, you can print your own book, and the physical quality is very good. But "professional" is more than just good paper and binding (those are required, of course). "Professional" is that intangible quality that makes the package more than the sum of its parts. Design is a subtle art, so subtle that lots of duffers think they can do it. Unfortunately, the readers can tell. They can't define the difference, but they know it when they see it.
ETA: more to the point, you want to know how well this cover succeeded? One person saw it, was curious enough about it to look it up, preorder it, and then talk about it on her blog. That's some cover, hoo-boy.
I want to talk about cover design. On the subway this morning, I saw a young woman reading this book (or, more accurately, an ARC of it). I couldn't read the title, but the cover image intrigued me.
I squinted and squinted until I could figure out the word "society," and then squinted some more until I read "benedict." Why?
Because the cover made me curious. I wanted to know what the book was so I could look it up on Amazon when I got to work.
That's some damn good cover design. I'm having trouble settling on exactly what intrigued me. I'm sure the Edward-Gorey-esque art was the big factor. I couldn't see the details, but I could see this gothicky/Victorian ramshackle house and the muted colors on the pale background. The design was playing on the reader's (well, my) familiarity with a particular style of art that is associated with dark whimsy. Reading the advance review of the book, I see that "dark whimsy" is accurate.
The Gorey reference also made me suspect the book might have some brain-fodder, and not be just whimsy. The advance review seems to bear that out, though of course I would prefer to read and judge for myself. (Why do I associate Gorey with brain-fodder? 1. Because Gorey's humor requires a brain and some education to understand it. 2. Gorey did the opening animation for the PBS Mystery series, and PBS is the channel of liberal intellectuals.)
The fact that it was a line-drawing made me suspect it was a novel rather than, say, a nonfiction history book. Something in the design also made me wonder if it was a YA novel (it is), but I wasn't positive. I think it was the scrolly thing for the title that made me suspect that; that's a bit more whimsical than the art alone. Further, if the book were for adults, or were nonfiction, the title would almost certainly have been much larger. Grown-ups like titles or names. Children respond to pictures.
(Grown-ups also respond to pictures, as my reaction here demonstrates, but we respond to words more than children do. Consequently, one of the ways to differentiate the age-level of a book is in how much emphasis is on the art and how much on the type.)
----------------------------------------------------------
I have one more observation to make about this design. The book is not yet published, and when it is, it will be in hardcover. The young woman on the subway reading was reading a trade paperback. I assumed it was a real book, not an ARC. ARCs are often printed on the same presses as regular books (as opposed to using POD technology), so it's possible that the book was printed just like a regular paperback.
More likely, though, it was printed POD. POD has gotten to be good enough that the quality is not distinguishable from a regular book, at least not until you hold it in your hands (and often not then either).
And yet I am consistently able to pick out the self-pubbed and very-small-press books in the hucksters' room at a convention. I can spot them at ten paces, easy.
THAT, my friends, is what a full-fledged, professional publishing house does. In addition to having distribution and sales channels, they have honest-to-Crom, BFA-degreed, well-trained cover designers.
Yes, you can print your own book, and the physical quality is very good. But "professional" is more than just good paper and binding (those are required, of course). "Professional" is that intangible quality that makes the package more than the sum of its parts. Design is a subtle art, so subtle that lots of duffers think they can do it. Unfortunately, the readers can tell. They can't define the difference, but they know it when they see it.
ETA: more to the point, you want to know how well this cover succeeded? One person saw it, was curious enough about it to look it up, preorder it, and then talk about it on her blog. That's some cover, hoo-boy.