“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
- Someone who never sold a book in their life
While the cliche above applies metaphorically to people, it is silly advice (and bad business) to disregard the cover design for a book. And lest you think I’m some money-driven, James Patterson-esque book factory, let me assure you I make these claims for both practical and creative reasons.
First off, let’s be real: everyone judges books by their covers anyway, regardless of the pithy wisdom expressed above. There’s a great reason for this: book covers tell you a lot about the book before you start to read it. A book cover can…
Reveal the setting of the story
Establish the mood
Represent the genre
Depict important characters
Show a key event or concept
Tease or summarize the premise
Convey the author’s professionalism
Furthermore, I enjoy designing covers. I’m not very artistic myself, but I’d like to be. I can envision scenes from my books that would make a good “movie poster,” and I paid people to cover my sketches and ideas into appealing images. Recently, I’ve dabbled with AI and Canva to create my own covers.
Which is why I’ve brought you here. In anticipation of my next book launch, I invite you to weigh in on cover design. Of the options below, which catches your eye the most? What might you change?
I also have a sample blurb to enhance the “judging a book by its cover” experience:
Stella Sunter can’t seem to stay out of trouble.
She and her friends run around their village, pulling jokes and making messes, but they always manage to get a second chance. That is, until one little prank goes way too far — not even Stella’s parents can help her this time. She soon finds herself at the mercy of Master Clark, head of the night watch, who has been waiting for years to finally teach her a lesson.
And once the King gets involved, Stella’s in for a big dose of the real world…
As an added bonus, I’ll leave you with the third chapter of The Borrowed Daughter to further whet your appetite (here are Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 in case you missed them).
The Borrowed Daughter
Chapter 3: Reckoning
The candles lit the kitchen well, but shadows still hung heavy around the walls. The surrounding gloom pressed in on Stella, who kept her head down as Mother’s feet paced and Father’s worn boots stayed still. The two watchmen stood at the door, the fat one grumbling while the thin one remained silent.
“ – and set the goats loose besides!” Dobbins huffed. “And that was all after she lit that wagon aflame and nearly killed the grand marshal!”
“I didn’t do that!” Stella protested. “I would never – ” she lifted her eyes to her mother, facing her for the first time. “It was just a prank that went too far.” She broke down into sobs again.
Her mom put a consoling hand on her back. “Shh ... not another word about it.”
Her father’s boots thumped once, twice, toward the door. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this in the morning. Thank you for your efforts, Mister Dobbins.”
The fat man puffed out his chest, muttering something vaguely polite.
“And, I’m sorry – your name is ... ?” Father gave the thin man a questioning look.
“Banyon, sir,” he answered with a bow of his head. “At your service.”
Stella’s father nodded. “Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Dobbins and Mr. Banyon for returning our Stella home safely,” he said, his voice low and strong. “Rest assured, we’ll see to her discipline from here.”
The guards exchanged looks. “About that,” Banyon replied slowly, scratching the back of his head. “You see, that fire – intentional or not – caused a lot of damage. Goodman Roth’s wagon lost a wheel, and much of the hay burned. Some other carts got banged up in the fleeing. Banners and instruments were trampled and broken. Animals got loose, some lost for good. People were scared and injured ... including the grand marshal.”
“We’ll make it right,” her father assured them. “All of it. In the morning.”
“Make it right?” Dobbins barked. “You gonna regrow that hay? Summon up the missin’ livestock? Mend the broken trumpets and stitch the tattered flags?”
“It won’t be easy,” Stella’s mother calmly explained. “But we’ll sort this out. We always pay our debts.” She winced down at Stella, who was stabbed by the gentle words.
“Pay? Pay?” Dobbins stammered. “Do ya have any idea how much that parade costs Lady Grennett?”
“Lady Grennett?” Father’s voice was always strong, but he used it softly. Now it boomed like thunder. “Our tax dollars pay for that spectacle, and every year she makes herself the center of the show! How dare you – you come to my home and accuse my child of destroying property, upsetting the town – demanding that we pay for the very chaos we just ran from in terror – with no evidence! No consideration! No thought for how this might affect our family!”
Stella sprung up from her seat, fists punched down at her side. “Would everyone stop talking about me like I’m not here!”
Dobbins kept his angry eyes locked on Father’s. “Evidence, is it? Ya want proof?” He dug into his satchel. “How’s this for ya?” He waved the ruined spark stick in Father’s face.
Heat swept across Stella’s cheeks and spread to her ears. “That’s Warren’s and you know it!” Her ears began to ring, and she couldn’t be sure if it was anger or guilt that set them off like that.
“A known associate o’ yours!” Dobbins snapped back, bits of spittle flying from his crooked-toothed mouth. “Caught you two plenty o’ times scampin’ about!”
“So that makes her guilty?” Father shouted back, thrusting his face toward Dobbins’. “She’s responsible for everything her friends do, now?”
“No,” Mister Banyon replied, his voice surprising them all with its gentleness. He reached into his satchel and calmly drew his hand out. “But there’s also this.” He held out his hand and unfolded his fingers.
The flush on the back of Father’s neck receded. He slowly reached for the objects and took them from Banyon’s palm. “My flint and steel ... ”
Dobbins’ dark eyes flashed, a vicious grin slashing through his beard. “Aha – see! I told ya the little br – !”
“Mommy?” Everlee sat up from her bed in the dim back corner of the cottage. “Why’s everyone yellin’?” She sniffled, rubbing a fist in her eye.
Their mother scooted back to the corner, sitting and cradling Everlee’s head close to her side. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Remember Sissy was missing at the parade? Well, some nice men helped bring her home, and we were just talking.”
Everlee squinted at the watchmen. “Is Sissy goin’ to jail?”
Mother rubbed her narrow back. “No, dove. Stella’s fine, and it’s late, so we’re all going to go back to bed. We can sort this out in the morning.” She gave Father an expectant look.
“Yes,” Father replied absently, still staring at his hand. “In the morning.”
Dobbins wound up to shout again, but Banyon placed a calming hand on his partner’s shoulder. Dobbins sputtered, but then choked back his words. When Banyon looked back at Father, his mouth was a thin line. He swallowed. “There is a lot to think about. We’ll come back after dawn. Heads are always clearer in the daylight.” He smiled then, but his eyes looked sad. Without another word, he raised a hand in farewell and turned away.
The door whined shut, and Father’s hand lingered on it for a long moment. Silence settled over the room, the cottage, the whole outskirts of town. The moon glowed bright in the starry sky. Candles wavered in their sockets as a warm breeze passed through the kitchen window.
Stella hung her head, blinking hot tears from her stinging eyes. The floorboards creaked as Father shifted his boots. Everlee whispered something to Mother, but she shushed Stella’s little sister with a soothing sound. Sniffling, Stella wiped her eyes with her gritty sleeve.
“To bed. Everyone,” Father commanded. He blew out the candles and went to bed without another word.
Stella was secretly grateful to crawl under her blanket in the pitch blackness – anything was better than facing her parents’ disappointment. But as she laid there, the backs of eyelids played the same visions over and over.
The cart on fire.
Warren’s desperate eyes.
Dobbins’ half-lit sneer.
Mother’s wilting frown.
Father staring dumbly at the flint and steel.
Even in the dark, it’s bright enough to see your shame ...
I am really enjoying "The Borrowed Daughter" and look forward to its release at the end of the month! The text came through for the book covers but not any pictures, not sure if it is a problem on my end or not.