Fingers turned to Jell-O. I have to face it. Better do it now. But…but now I’m still feeling fine. What if after… what if it ruins my day. What if, like that other writer on the kid-lit chat board, I have to spend the next two days crying. Better do it right away, like yanking a Band-Aid. But I can’t. Not. Just. Yet.
This is an accurate description of my reaction to an Email I got a few days ago. Not one from any known detractor, but an Email I have waited for and wanted to get. The subject line, from the publisher, said “The Voice of Thunder cover.” I could see there’s an attachment. I opened the Email and, indeed, the text read: “Here you go! The official cover.”
But I didn’t open the attachment. Not until I looked at all the other Emails. Not until I got up and made some mint tea. Not until I took a deep breath. A hundred of them, actually.
While the tea brewed and I breathed, I kept saying to myself over and over- This part is not up to you. Whatever it is, you have to accept it. Whatever it is, it will be all right. Whatever.
Unless you self-publish, the cover design is between the publisher and their designer. I know of others who loved their book covers, some liked their covers, and some who disliked their covers. I even know one writer who was so despondent over the cover that he wanted to remove his name from the book. Writers advise each other to hope for the best, expect the worst, and to remind themselves to let go.
I opened the attachment.
I’m one of the fortunate. I *love* it.
The cover represents the story well, and it looks just as I would have deigned it if I could design. The designer clearly read the book. Mira Levi’s diary pages are set on old oak wood, all from the story. The old photograph is perfect. Now I really want to read this book…
I hope others feel the same. But this, too, is not up to me.
More about The Voice of Thunder on my website Books page.
See you there.