Do You Pick the Covers of Your Books?

The short answer is, "No."

When I am working on a novel, I don't discuss cover ideas with my editor. Although I think of myself as a visually oriented person (all writers think of themselves as visually oriented people), I understand that I am better working with words than with images. Otherwise, I would be a designer. Once the novel has entered the production cycle, I am consulted when a preliminary jacket design is ready. But this process mostly consists of my editor and publisher showing me the image and hoping that I will like it. If I don't, I can suggest changes—"Can you make the rocks look more like granite?"—and I suppose if I really hated something, I could have my agent throw a fit on my behalf. But ultimately, I understand that marketing is the publishers' area of expertise. It doesn't mean that they are always right. But their experience bringing books to market weighs heavily on our conversations.

Publishing a novel requires that an author let go of lots of things. We're so close to our books that we often have trouble seeing them as prospective readers might, which is why you hear stories of Countess Tolstoy rescuing her husband's "failed" manuscript for War and Peace from the fireplace. Just as we judge ourselves too harshly at a times, so too do we fail to understand the qualities in our works that compel readers to embrace them.

I've often wondered why the maxim "you can't judge a book by its cover" has become so widespread. The caution against leaping to conclusions based on appearances is universal. But why is this kernel of wisdom encased in a publishing chestnut? Beats me.

Ultimately, it's nice if I like my book jacket. I feel more confident about waving it around in front of large audiences, for one thing. For the moment, though, I am willing to defer to people like Charlotte Strick who is the art director for Farrar, Strauss & Giroux, which is another Macmillan imprint. She offers this explanation of the design process from her point of view:

Every three months or so, we gather together. In our hands, launch meeting packets still hot off the copy machine. Our editor-in-chief sits at the head of the double-long conference table, and introduces us, the weary and largely bespectacled, to the newest crop of books. Over the years I've found that most editors describe their hopes and dreams for their future covers in the same ways. Please make them look "hip," "sexy," and—oh yes!—"fresh, too"! Our job as jacket designers is to keep reinterpreting these well-worn requests....

As the books are introduced, each of us begins to wonder: Will I solve the problem with illustration or photography? If the title is brilliant and descriptive, maybe an all-type treatment that's bold and clever is the best solution. (These are always my favorites.) Is there even any budget for art after the copy-editing fees, production costs, and author's advances have been tallied? No? Never mind! We'll get out our paintbrushes and dust off our cameras and get to work. 

Once we designers have made requests for certain projects or authors, read through the manuscripts, researched fonts, and composed sketches, then the in-house roundtable made up of the heads of our publicity and sales departments and several high-ranking members of the editorial staff weigh in. We state our cases for the research we've done and the color choices we've made. We cross our fingers and toes and say silent prayers to the design gods in the hopes that our babies don't end up in the recycling bin—or, worse, that the chosen design is the one we like the least. "Why did we decide to show that one?" we curse ourselves. 

Library Journal Gives Trespasser a Star!

When I was waiting for the reviews for my first book to come out, I had the advantage of ignorance. Not having been through the gauntlet before, I had no idea what to expect. Fortunately, with The Poacher's Son, I had the sort of experience every first novelist hopes for: I got to read one glowing review after another recommending my book.

With my new mystery, Trespasser, I now understand the importance of pre-publication reviews. My good luck seems to be continuing! Today, Library Journal gave it a starred review:

Doiron, Paul. Trespasser. Minotaur: St. Martin’s. Jun. 2011. c.320p. ISBN 9780312558475. $24.99. M
It’s mud season in northern Maine, no longer winter but not yet spring, and the grisly murder of a young woman raises questions nobody wants answered. Is the man serving time in prison for an identical murder innocent? Is there a serial killer on the loose? Game warden Mike Bowditch has a nose for finding answers and a penchant for getting in trouble. In just his second year on the job, he must combat the wicked weather, those in law enforcement who respect neither his profession nor him, and his personal demons. With the help of his friend Charlie, a legendary and now retired game warden, Mike doggedly pursues the truth as spring begins to show itself. VERDICT Doiron (nominated this year for an Edgar Award for his first book about Mike Bowditch, The Poacher’s Son) serves up a tense thriller that stars a memorable main character and brings the rugged Maine landscape vividly to life. Highly recommended for lovers of mysteries, particularly those set outdoors or in New England. Fans of C.J. Box and Castle Freeman will not be disappointed. [15-city tour in New England.]—Nancy Fontaine, Dartmouth Coll., Hanover, NH

It's days like this when I remember how fortunate I am to be living my life's dream.

Maine in the Civil War

The 150th anniversary of the attack by South Carolina militia on the U.S. Army at Fort Sumter is approaching. We should expect to see an onslaught of books, TV shows, and magazine articles about the Civil War in the coming weeks. Down East lobs the first volley. My editor's note reflects on the war's continuing legacy in my home state. For a broad view you should read Colin Woodard's fantastic overview of how Maine responded to the outbreak hostilities—and what it cost us.

Thrill Rides with a Vision

In an article on EW.com about Matt Damon, I came across this description of his famous series of movies:

The Bourne films aren’t quite works of art, but they’re super-smart about exciting audiences. They’re thrill rides with a vision.

I doubt I'm the only author of suspense novels who would love to see my stories described in those terms.