(no subject)

If you read this the day it was written, it was missing a paragraph, and some links didn't work right. Sorry 'bout that.

In her recent discussion of too-neglected books, sartorias  started off  by discussing why she would never have picked up Jane Emerson's City of Diamond without a strong recommendation from a friend:

I took the copy up, looking at that boring cover. I mean, DAW did try marketing signals that it's a hottie--the title is in gold leaf, raised even, and the author byline raised. But swimming pool blue. And the cover itself, part of a space ship, not even an interesting part, hanging against a night sky next to a barely discernable death-star type thing, while wayyy down at the bottom, alone in a bay, we see the backs of a man and woman as they look up. He's pointing, she's just standing there holding his hand, and she's wearing a Marge Simpson house dress in orange. Bor-ring!

(This is what she means. Is she ever right!)

Which is odd, as I'd been thinking about a trend in book covers lately. Namely, the increasing number of covers which exist in which we see every possible body part except the face. (Some of these are still very beautiful, but still. And for those unaccustomed to TNHisms, yes, each marked word is a separate link.)

I find this trend interesting mostly because one piece of traditional wisdom about what draws people in is faces, or eyes. And I find that isn't true. I find that the good covers, acceptable covers, and embarrassing covers are about equal, regardless of subject matter. While this just annoys me and looks weak, this Makes my list of covers that made me go "oooh!" when I first saw them.

I can tell you some of why, too. The figure in Golden Fool is placed in a context - in a room with particular objects that sets it in a time and place (And all of which are suggestive of the story in themselves, from the castle tower to the painting of the ship), with a frame that represents other related items, as well as continuity and context for the book within its own series. Both figures are in motion, but the one for the Other Boleyn Girl is devoid of context, or connection. We can't tell where she's going, or what she's looking back for. Her gestures could be suggestive, but we don't know what of. If one is handed a mystery, one has to know several facts (Who died, who might have done it, how it was done) to appreciate the facts one does not know. A mystery where we knew only "Someone died, but we don't know who, or where, or how. Figure out who killed her." loses our interest very quickly. We need something to hang onto.

While the background context helps, the gestures in Golden Fool also read more clearly to me; exposing a part of the self usually unseen, and uncomfortable in it (The hand in the hair, and how tight the elbow is tucked in on the other side). The fact that the part would normally be innocuous (the back, and not even to the waist), and in this case is not (The wild tattoo) adds to the intrigue and implication of story for me, as a picture of someone flashing a normally, er, nocuous part would not. That would obviously be cheap titillation, and turn me *off*, as far as book covers and reading choices are concerned.

Now, throw in a twist; should I not then like this (The British edition) just as much? It's set in a room with other things that place it in context in the story, in a frame that places it in context with the series and further into the story, it's clear to whom, or at least why, she's showing herself.

No. And here are some of the reasons  why: The colour is stronger in the frame and lettering than in the art, drawing the eye away from the tattoo and the figure (Caveat - this may not be the artist's fault, though he did make frame as well as image, as he spends some of the time on his own webstie complaining about how the art director kept changing the colours of his submitted art. Just so you know who to blame). In the first one, the figure is the brightest thing, followed by the tattoo. (That, also, is why I insisted on getting the hardcover of the American Edition, not the Paperback, with its drowningly garish red-orange. The lesson that taught me is: how to ruin a perfect cover in one step.). The figures are placed more awkwardly, with the space they occupy in the picture, in the room, and with each other. The girl is more exposed, and only her hair keeps us form seeing a breast - which is bringing it closer to cheap titillation territory. The other figure also takes her out of sole focus. Because he has a face, we're inclined to look at him, not at the tattoo, and because it's clear he's the one she's showing herself to, we're kept out of the scene, watching two characters inside a frame.  In the American Edition, the viewer becomes the second figure in the space, the one doing the looking. We're involved, in spite of the frame.

So, there's some cheap analysis on why like covers don't work. Yay me.

Not that it's always easy to tell. I can give a few guidelines. I'm wary of overly static covers; figures making movement (Or implications of movement) tend to work better than figures that are still. Context works well, but single Iconic images with or without context are stronger than muddied scenes full of people. Colours are a good draw - bright doesn't always win out, though. This is one of my favourite covers ever. It only matters that the strong colours (The eyes and the text) be at the important points. (I don't mind the text being strong - this is a cover, and author names are a draw. The colour does also echo in the picture, if sneakily, so the two feel united.)

This would be a stunning cover (The art is gorgeous, and show all kinds of things that make me want to read it - including those parrots), but for one inexplicable thing; the title font and hue is alright, but seems oddly small considering how much room the artist left for title and author's name. And as for the author's name - Tobias S. Buckell may not be Stephen King, but he has a darn good short story reputation so far, and there's no reason whatever to try and hide his involvement as creator, which is all I can think they were trying to do here. (As to the art - it is a wrap cover, and there is yet more to it. It's pretty as it is, but the whole is better. Alas, even on  the author's site *and* the book site, I can't find a picture of the whole thing right now.)

In contrast, you can have good design in spite of a weak picture. My example would be Freedom and Necessity. The painting (Of which slightly different versions are used for the paperback and hardcover) might be good art, but it's bad cover art - it's too busy, and the eye has a hard time focusing on it. Yet the design of the rest of the cover works for me - both versions, though the hardcover, with less text to fit in (And a matte texture of everything but the picture) are slightly better. The colour choices are good, it's all legible, the font harmonizes both with the blocks and solid lines, and with the curlicues on top, and it looks just old-fashioned enough to fit with the era in the picture (And the story).

Yet, it's still possible to lose out doing things right. Even though the images become more centralized, and the light and colour better focused, I like the first and second covers of Steven Brust's Paarfi romances better than the others. The second artist tried to make obvious echoes with the first two covers, but his faces are... odd. Yes, tehcnical skill counts. There is also the static-ness factor - the first artist has a jagged style that gives even more movement than the figures do, where the second adds a smoothness that makes it less powerful. In all honesty, the second artist does acceptable covers, but they'd actually be better if he'd tried less to make echoes with the first - they highlight all his (Or her, it occurs to me that while I looked up the artist's name once, and I seem to recall it being a man, I don't remember for sure, and I'm not at home to peek) weak points compared to the other - greater stillness, less ability in the figures. Yet he does make good iconic book-cover art that stands out at ten paces.

There's also inappropriate covers - ones that don't tell you about the book inside at all, whether they're pretty or not. But I've run out of time and I think I've said enough. (And miracle of miracles, Kinuko Craft's beautiful, elaborate, busy, over-full art which still manages to have a single standout figure never got in there at all. How did I do that?)

Oh. And the worst cover of all time? The one that was artistically bad, deceptive about the book inside, used fonts badly, united elements cruddily, and just generally looked embarrassing? I used to think it was this pastel horror.

It's not.

(no subject)

If you read this the day it was written, it was missing a paragraph, and some links didn't work right. Sorry 'bout that.

In her recent discussion of too-neglected books, sartorias  started off  by discussing why she would never have picked up Jane Emerson's City of Diamond without a strong recommendation from a friend:

I took the copy up, looking at that boring cover. I mean, DAW did try marketing signals that it's a hottie--the title is in gold leaf, raised even, and the author byline raised. But swimming pool blue. And the cover itself, part of a space ship, not even an interesting part, hanging against a night sky next to a barely discernable death-star type thing, while wayyy down at the bottom, alone in a bay, we see the backs of a man and woman as they look up. He's pointing, she's just standing there holding his hand, and she's wearing a Marge Simpson house dress in orange. Bor-ring!

(This is what she means. Is she ever right!)

Which is odd, as I'd been thinking about a trend in book covers lately. Namely, the increasing number of covers which exist in which we see every possible body part except the face. (Some of these are still very beautiful, but still. And for those unaccustomed to TNHisms, yes, each marked word is a separate link.)

I find this trend interesting mostly because one piece of traditional wisdom about what draws people in is faces, or eyes. And I find that isn't true. I find that the good covers, acceptable covers, and embarrassing covers are about equal, regardless of subject matter. While this just annoys me and looks weak, this Makes my list of covers that made me go "oooh!" when I first saw them.

I can tell you some of why, too. The figure in Golden Fool is placed in a context - in a room with particular objects that sets it in a time and place (And all of which are suggestive of the story in themselves, from the castle tower to the painting of the ship), with a frame that represents other related items, as well as continuity and context for the book within its own series. Both figures are in motion, but the one for the Other Boleyn Girl is devoid of context, or connection. We can't tell where she's going, or what she's looking back for. Her gestures could be suggestive, but we don't know what of. If one is handed a mystery, one has to know several facts (Who died, who might have done it, how it was done) to appreciate the facts one does not know. A mystery where we knew only "Someone died, but we don't know who, or where, or how. Figure out who killed her." loses our interest very quickly. We need something to hang onto.

While the background context helps, the gestures in Golden Fool also read more clearly to me; exposing a part of the self usually unseen, and uncomfortable in it (The hand in the hair, and how tight the elbow is tucked in on the other side). The fact that the part would normally be innocuous (the back, and not even to the waist), and in this case is not (The wild tattoo) adds to the intrigue and implication of story for me, as a picture of someone flashing a normally, er, nocuous part would not. That would obviously be cheap titillation, and turn me *off*, as far as book covers and reading choices are concerned.

Now, throw in a twist; should I not then like this (The British edition) just as much? It's set in a room with other things that place it in context in the story, in a frame that places it in context with the series and further into the story, it's clear to whom, or at least why, she's showing herself.

No. And here are some of the reasons  why: The colour is stronger in the frame and lettering than in the art, drawing the eye away from the tattoo and the figure (Caveat - this may not be the artist's fault, though he did make frame as well as image, as he spends some of the time on his own webstie complaining about how the art director kept changing the colours of his submitted art. Just so you know who to blame). In the first one, the figure is the brightest thing, followed by the tattoo. (That, also, is why I insisted on getting the hardcover of the American Edition, not the Paperback, with its drowningly garish red-orange. The lesson that taught me is: how to ruin a perfect cover in one step.). The figures are placed more awkwardly, with the space they occupy in the picture, in the room, and with each other. The girl is more exposed, and only her hair keeps us form seeing a breast - which is bringing it closer to cheap titillation territory. The other figure also takes her out of sole focus. Because he has a face, we're inclined to look at him, not at the tattoo, and because it's clear he's the one she's showing herself to, we're kept out of the scene, watching two characters inside a frame.  In the American Edition, the viewer becomes the second figure in the space, the one doing the looking. We're involved, in spite of the frame.

So, there's some cheap analysis on why like covers don't work. Yay me.

Not that it's always easy to tell. I can give a few guidelines. I'm wary of overly static covers; figures making movement (Or implications of movement) tend to work better than figures that are still. Context works well, but single Iconic images with or without context are stronger than muddied scenes full of people. Colours are a good draw - bright doesn't always win out, though. This is one of my favourite covers ever. It only matters that the strong colours (The eyes and the text) be at the important points. (I don't mind the text being strong - this is a cover, and author names are a draw. The colour does also echo in the picture, if sneakily, so the two feel united.)

This would be a stunning cover (The art is gorgeous, and show all kinds of things that make me want to read it - including those parrots), but for one inexplicable thing; the title font and hue is alright, but seems oddly small considering how much room the artist left for title and author's name. And as for the author's name - Tobias S. Buckell may not be Stephen King, but he has a darn good short story reputation so far, and there's no reason whatever to try and hide his involvement as creator, which is all I can think they were trying to do here. (As to the art - it is a wrap cover, and there is yet more to it. It's pretty as it is, but the whole is better. Alas, even on  the author's site *and* the book site, I can't find a picture of the whole thing right now.)

In contrast, you can have good design in spite of a weak picture. My example would be Freedom and Necessity. The painting (Of which slightly different versions are used for the paperback and hardcover) might be good art, but it's bad cover art - it's too busy, and the eye has a hard time focusing on it. Yet the design of the rest of the cover works for me - both versions, though the hardcover, with less text to fit in (And a matte texture of everything but the picture) are slightly better. The colour choices are good, it's all legible, the font harmonizes both with the blocks and solid lines, and with the curlicues on top, and it looks just old-fashioned enough to fit with the era in the picture (And the story).

Yet, it's still possible to lose out doing things right. Even though the images become more centralized, and the light and colour better focused, I like the first and second covers of Steven Brust's Paarfi romances better than the others. The second artist tried to make obvious echoes with the first two covers, but his faces are... odd. Yes, tehcnical skill counts. There is also the static-ness factor - the first artist has a jagged style that gives even more movement than the figures do, where the second adds a smoothness that makes it less powerful. In all honesty, the second artist does acceptable covers, but they'd actually be better if he'd tried less to make echoes with the first - they highlight all his (Or her, it occurs to me that while I looked up the artist's name once, and I seem to recall it being a man, I don't remember for sure, and I'm not at home to peek) weak points compared to the other - greater stillness, less ability in the figures. Yet he does make good iconic book-cover art that stands out at ten paces.

There's also inappropriate covers - ones that don't tell you about the book inside at all, whether they're pretty or not. But I've run out of time and I think I've said enough. (And miracle of miracles, Kinuko Craft's beautiful, elaborate, busy, over-full art which still manages to have a single standout figure never got in there at all. How did I do that?)

Oh. And the worst cover of all time? The one that was artistically bad, deceptive about the book inside, used fonts badly, united elements cruddily, and just generally looked embarrassing? I used to think it was this pastel horror.

It's not.