Can't Judge a Book

This week I’ve faced the age-old conundrum: too much going on and therefore no time to write about it (it’s either that or lots of time to write and nothing to say). But I’ll stick to one topic per post, and start with the most exciting one first: the covers meeting!

Since, in defiance of the adage, the cover of a book is one of its most important selling points, the covers meeting is one of the company’s most important, and certainly the most exciting I’ve attended. For the meeting, the heads of marketing and design and editing and probably many more all gather around a table with book stands and shout out the names of the books they’re discussing. Then the editors and designers assigned to the book run over (literally run) and set up a printout of the book’s cover at whatever stage it is, from initial sketch to ready-for-press. Everyone scrutinizes the cover, offers suggestions and direction, and then, usually, sends it back for revision.

I was dazzled by the range of issues discussed. They talked about paper weight, about embossing, gloss, and foil. For one book they liked the color scheme but thought it might be too bright for the theme, for another they altered details of the border so it wouldn’t look too similar to another series from our press. They looked at books that had been previously published in other countries and recommended either slight adjustments or altogether new art to appeal to an American audience.

They debated for several of the titles whether we were trying to sell the name of the author, the illustrator, or the book. For some books they suggested subtitles and for others they removed them. In one case, they even passed around a blank, bound sample of a book that was to have nonstandard stitching, and everyone tried holding it to get a literal feel for the book.

The designers repeatedly accused covers of being too flat, and though flat seemed to refer to everything from static figures to matte ink, it often seemed an apt description.

It was clear that some of the designers worked on a very detailed scale. These designers worked within a specific framework and asked about tiny variations such as various croppings of the art, showing it larger or smaller in relationship to the type. Or they brought in different versions of the art with slightly different shadows.

Others worked more flexibly. One designer brought five different cover possibilities, each with a different image, color scheme, and typeface, and asked for general reactions and critiques. Another brought in a variety of photos of the subject of the book and requested suggestions.

For a number of books people cited precedents from similar genres or companies—things that had worked before and things that hadn’t. But what was most important for each discussion was whether the cover matched the book. Would a child know, from the cover, what sort of story was inside? Although I had thought this would be a fairly simple task, I was surprised by how challenging it could be. Editor/designers teams who were stuck would describe a manuscript to us and ask what to emphasize. How do you capture the complexities of a novel, which is funny and dramatic, romantic and scary, quirky and profound, all in a single image? It’s easier to critique existing ones than to invent them from scratch. And as long as we’re critiquing, a classic example of a cover that does not capture its contents is the latest edition of Ender’s Game (not a Candlewick title).

After the meeting, an editor mentioned in passing that she’d been told you know you’ve found the manuscript for you when you can picture the cover.