This post is about a month overdue, and contains a gaggle of bookish Christmas and birthday gifts! Needless to say, I think I’m pretty set for 2012 on literature.

This first group of books were all Christmas and birthday gifts! Two of these books were featured here on the blog, Where Things Come Back and Between Two Ends. (Not pictured: Legend by Marie Lu)

I loved how S&S kept the detailing from an alternate cover for Where Things Come Back’s interior title page:

The Between Two Ends‘ cover wins out of all the books pictured in this post, though:

And after disrobing its jacket:

Shatter Me was quite the looker, too:

And because of gift cards and recommendations from book bloggers, this second group of books was purchased! (Not pictured: One Con Glory by Sarah Kuhn)

This final group of books I’m calling my Mel Stack. My lovely friend and book blogger Melanie sent these to me out of the kindness of her heart. (Sap much? Oh yes.) It’s a great feeling knowing that she’s sent me these books based on what she thinks I would like/connect with. She’s awesome like that.

I was so exited to get this for Christmas I think I squealed a little when I unwrapped the box and discovered what it was. Like, a 12-year-old girl squeal and everything. Obviously I talk about art here on the blog, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever expressed my zeal for Pixar. Well, now you know. Y’all, I could watch some Pixar BTS for days. Some out of my own curiosity and love for Pixar, others out of babysitting my nephew when he was a wee one. Toy Story and I? We go waaaay back. (As an 11-year-old, my nephew now thinks Pixar “is for babies,” and upon discovering this my heart basically shattered into a million pieces.)

This book is about the colorscripts of Pixar/Disney. And this isn’t just about some pretty art and glossy pages. There are only 8 pages dedicated to breaking down what colorscripts are, and every single paragraph is worth the read. Amidi brings you from a shallowly curious state to chest-deep in wonder in less than an hour. And poring over those 300-odd pages can’t be fully understood prior to reading those pages. Trust me.

Ever since I saw author Adrienne Kress tweet about getting a box of Penguin postcards in the mail, I knew I was in love and it was imperative to have them in my grabby hands.

I can’t even begin to express how happy these postcards make me. The stock is solid, the covers are awesome, and more of ‘em need to be released into the wild. Because these postcards fit in with one of my resolutions to write more, I’d love to send you one. So shoot me an email if you’re interested, and it’ll be on its way soon.

Last but not least, I have a new way to enjoy movies, creating music, art, playing games, and now — reading digitally on a screen that’s actually larger than the size of my phone. Twitter friend Jennifer also introduced me to Morning Glories, which is my current comics obsession. (Bless you, comiXology app.)

He’s the guy who illustrated this cover. You might have seen it around somewhere or something.

A fangirly moment here, if I may. I have not read Chains yet. I’ve heard fantastic things about Chains but the reason why I want to read it is because of this cover. I’m not a historical fiction aficionado. I haven’t read much of it, to be honest. But there is something so poignant about this cover that just makes me want to pick up and hold this book. I want it to whisper its secrets to me. (I’m sure those whispers would include whisper-yelling, “Geez woman, READ ME ALREADY.”) From its combination of color to its handcrafted lettering and even to right down to its shading, this is the type of cover art that doesn’t feel manufactured or contrived.

And all of Neal’s work on his site feels the exact same way.  There’s something quietly beautiful about his illustrations. I was introduced to his work last year by my coworker (another illustrator) Vince. He sent this image via instant messenger, and I was immediately in love:

Cover for an MG novel by Kate Elise. Click through for Goodreads link.

Grounded is the perfect example of what I think is missing on the face of a lot of YA literature. It’s incredibly emotive. It can stand on its own as a work of art, but it gestures to its story within, paying respect to the fact that some author slaved over writing its insides. When I see a SGiPD (or Girls in Gowns) cover, I feel like I already know what the novel is about. Or, conversely, I don’t necessarily need to know what the novel is about because 80% of the time, its cover is a fraud and that sad skinny girl would never be caught dead in that dress anyway. 

Before I get too ranty, here’s more of Neal’s beautiful work.

Have I mentioned how unfair it is that MG gets all the good covers? Also, it’s a bit ridiculous how talented this guy is. Because if illustrating covers I’d like to have framed on my wall some day isn’t enough, he’s also made a little film for Kate Spade.

I mean really.

I would totally JPEG-bomb the rest of this post but you probably ought to go to cyber-stalk Chris on his tumblr or follow him on Twitter instead.

It could be the cover’s use of negative space. Or perhaps that loud cluster of colors I heard from clear across the room. Actually, it was those two attributes joined by that doozy of a title that made me hone in on this cover, like moth to flame.

Pun totally intended, of course.

I digress.

Today’s interview is embarrassingly overdue. For those of you who weren’t aware, I’ve been a bit absent as of late, but for now I’m back in the cover-lovin-artist-diggin’ driver’s seat. And when I say “for now,” I mean until I get distracted by some new TV show or fun nail polish color. Or leave the country again.

But! Today’s post is about the incredibly talented illustrator, Hugh D’Andrade. I became enamored with his work when I discovered he was responsible for the paperback cover art for Dust City which came out back in September:

And out of the kindness of his heart, Hugh let me badger him with a slew of questions. Welcome, Hugh!

Hugh D'Andrade

Hardcover artwork

TCG: The original hardcover artwork for Dust City has a completely different feel next to its paperback counterpart. What was it like working with the team over at Razorbill? Were you able to read Dust City prior to working on the illustration? What kind of direction were you working with?

HA: I did read the book. Usually, when I get a jacket assignment, I get a copy of the book from the publisher. If I don’t like the book, I won’t bother reading the entire thing, I may just skim it. In the case of Paul Weston’s book Dust City, I devoured the book quickly, and loved every minute of it. It’s such a fun, amazing, interesting book, with a fascinating combination of fairy tale icons with contemporary political reality.

The cover of the hardback was perfectly nice, but didn’t really reflect the hipness and noir cartoonish-ness of the book. I think the publishers wanted to try something new with the paperback, so they called me.

Razorbill is actually a division of Penguin Young Readers, and I worked with Natalie Sousa there. She had really good ideas, and gave some really good direction that I think resulted in some great changes to my initial ideas. Working with a good art director is like that — it’s a collaboration that pushes you in a positive direction.

Did you find any part of DC’s design process particularly challenging?

The thing about working with publishers is that you often have to wait a long time for feedback, since so many people’s voices have to be consulted and synthesized. Sometimes that loses a little momentum. But I think that’s just the nature of the industry!

The second cover seems to show an alternate point of view. I haven’t read the novel yet, but it seems as though the paperback focuses more on Henry’s character, and the hardcover focuses on the threat of his father in the gritty city. What type of story did you intend to tell on the illustrated cover?

I really wanted to focus on Henry, who is a young wolf who has a good heart but appears dangerous and menacing to people around him. I think a lot of young guys can relate to being misunderstood in this way.

My neighborhood — San Francisco’s Mission district — is full of young kids of all ethnicities. They lumber around with their backpacks and hooded sweatshirts, looking cool and dangerous, though if you talk to them you find they are mostly pretty sweet kids. I wanted Henry to have that feel, so I made sure he had a hooded sweatshirt and looked pretty big, but with a semi-sweet face.

Henry runs quite a bit in the story, so of course he had to be running on the cover. Turns out it’s a bit tricky to draw an anthropomorphized wolf running, but I think I pulled it off. If you look carefully, there’s a swirl inside his pupil, which alludes to his confused state through much of the story.

Do you have a particular methodology when it comes to illustrating on commission, or does it constantly evolve? How does it compare to when you’re creating art for yourself?

I always draw small thumbnails first. Lots of them! Thumbnails, in case you don’t know, are small quick sketches, maybe 1 or 2 inches tall, done quickly for concept and composition. I draw on scraps of paper, envelopes in particular, and just plain copy paper. This way I don’t worry about the image sticking around in my sketchbook. Most of these go straight into the recycling bin.

After drawing dozens of these, I’ll find one that speaks to me. I blow that up in the computer, re-draw it a couple times, and submit some versions to the publisher. Usually I send them 3 full concept ideas, they choose a direction, and then we refine that with a few more rounds.

Funny that you ask about my process for my own personal work. It’s identical! However, that wasn’t always the case. I used to consider myself a fine artist (I studied this at school), and back then my process was simply to attack an oversized canvas and make a mess. This illustrator’s process works great, in my opinion, and when I teach I make sure my students use this practice.

Where does your artistic inspiration come from? What other artists’ work do you admire?

I have so many sources of inspiration! I love folk arts of all kinds — early American folk art in particular, but also Mexican traditions and other cultures around the world.

I love street art, and I’m always photographing things I see around town. I love old pulp fiction paperback novels. I love the rock poster tradition of the ’60s, as well as what that tradition has developed into since the ’90s.

I look at a lot of contemporary illustration and fine art. I like anything that is well drawn but not too slick, that tells a story, that involves the reader, and that makes use of good design and typography.

© Tara McPherson

Some artists I admire: Posada, Margaret Kilgallen, Jim Houser, Tim Biskup, Marion Bantjes, Chris Ware, Tara MacPherson, Henrik Drescher. I could go on!

It’s really hard to not fall in love with your artwork when you’re browsing your website and blog. I’ve fallen pretty hard, I’ve gotta admit. There’s fantastical and whimsy and beauty and wonder ingrained into every illustration. How would you personally describe your artistry?

Oh, thank you! I love hearing that. I have a hard time when I’m put on the spot to come up with a brief description. I want my work to be fun, accessible, hand drawn, strange, goofy, elegant. Also: useful, clever, delightful, energetic, curious.

You’ve illustrated cover art for some pretty iconic works of literature. From beautiful jackets like Carroll’s Alice to Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird to Speare’s The Sign of the Beaver, and even newer pieces like Gidwitz’s A Tale Dark and Grimm. What kind of pressures come with creating something new for beloved, classic work?

Funny you should ask. Yes, for To Kill a Mockingbird I did feel quite a bit of pressure! I loved that book as a child, and only a few years ago re-read it with my book group, and loved it all over again. It’s just a truly great American classic. Aside from the important moral and political message it delivers about the nature of racism and social change, it also has a strange, lingering beauty. It evokes a time and place in such a powerful way. I don’t know how Harper Lee did this, and I don’t know why this is her only book.

I had to set all that aside and just treat this as a job, in order to get started. I didn’t watch the movie, because I didn’t want that visualization affecting me. And I tried not to look at the other classic covers, but actually I had no choice. I had to look at the one that was the famous, silhouette cover, since this was what the publisher wanted to evoke without ripping it off in any way.

(Do check out Hugh’s post about the cover art on his blog, too!)

With the other books, I do feel pressure, but I’ve gotten pretty good at just using that as a kind of cattle prod to get me to chain myself to the drawing table. All jobs come with pressures. There are deadlines, the fact that many people will see the work, the desire to make something long lasting and valuable, the fear of failure. Par for the course, I guess!

Are there any covers out there that have grabbed your attention, or, in your opinion, have stood the test of time? What kind of cover art captures your attention?

I love old book covers that were printed on cloth using limited color palettes and traditional printing techniques, the type of stuff you find that was printed from the early 20th century to the 1950s or ’60s. This is one reason I have enjoyed working with Sterling Press, the publishers of Barnes & Noble’s classics that I did Alice in Wonderland and To Kill a Mockingbird with. They print on leather using foils and beautiful embossing. It’s really a pleasure.

I also love all contemporary book covers. One of my favorite ways to spend an hour is to peruse a bookstore, just looking at the covers. I’m guilty of judging books by their covers! In particular, I love the iconic hand drawn typography of book designer Jon Gray, who did the lovely Jonathan Safran Foer covers, and others.

Thank you so much for the interview, Hugh! Next time I’m in San Francisco, I will be stalking your art shows and I’m pretty sure my bank account will be pretty pissed at me afterwards.

For more Hugh, be sure to check out his website, Tumblr, and follow him on Twitter.

For example, this is where I am right now:

(That’s Japan.)

Just wanted to let you know I haven’t forgotten about you. And if you’ve seen some awesome covers, do let me know. (And no, I’m not trying to play the lazy card, I’m genuinely interested.)

I’m also hoping to find and explore a Japanese bookstore while I’m here. Here’s hoping I find a severe lack of SGiPD covers.

Last but not least, I hope you have a wonderful new year!

What’s black and white and red all over?

(And looks like a Rorschach test?)

I’ve had my eyes on this particular cover ever since Thea from The Book Smugglers posted it as on her radar.

It’d be easy for me to start tagging Ellison’s The Butterfly Clues with several different descriptors that make it a likable cover. Intriguing. Mysterious. Simple. Haunting. I certainly wouldn’t describe it as pretty, even with its title and object of affection.

But as much as I do like the final cover art, I wish Egmont USA had gone with an earlier design:

It’s easier for me to picture a “seedy, violent underworld” (taken from the novel’s synopsis) with a cover like this. How awesome would it have been to see a final print with that aged paper in hardcover? Both designs come from the incredibly talented Jen Heuer. I’m not even kidding when I say that looking at all of her design work makes you want to read every single book she’s had a hand in fashioning. It’s unreal.

And while I prefer the unused cover art, I understand why Egmont USA chose to go with the The Butterfly Clues’ final design. I’m still excited to see what the novel looks like out in the wild.

What say you? Do you prefer one cover over the other?

After some cover fawning and a lovely interview with author Corey Whaley, it’s now my absolute pleasure to welcome to the blog Michael McCartney, the designer responsible for both covers for Where Things Come Back.

TCG: Take us back to the drawing board — in this case, WTCB’s early design phases for its hardcover artwork. What kind of information were you working with in regards to its story, prior to even thinking about its design? What were some of the ideas thrown out during concepting? And further down the road, when and how did Grady McFerrin come along for the ride?

There was a lot of excitement about this book because it struck a number of people as being uncommonly good. Here was an author making his début with a complex and nuanced story of what roles such things as faith and hope play in the lives not simply of teenagers but their parents and the adults around them. This was a young-adult novel with so much of what we call “crossover appeal” to older readers that we all knew that the packaging was not going to look like it belonged on the teen shelves. One of my first thoughts as I began reading the manuscript was that some of the more superficial qualities of the book evoked To Kill a Mockingbird—it is set in a small town in the South and has an avian metaphor right at the centre and is poignant as well. I should note that the book had a working title of Good God Bird, which only changed after several months of discussion.

Throughout those months, the editor, Namrata Tripathi, and I undertook a pitch to various decision-makers to allow us the freedom to venture outside the safe and well-populated areas of young-adult cover design. I would have simply repurposed the first-edition cover art from Harper Lee’s book if Little Brown hadn’t just done it for The Mockingbirds. We pointed to illustrated covers on adult novels by Jonthan Safran Foer, Chuck Palahniuk, and David Foster Wallace and said we wanted to follow suit. The immediate response was that teen books must have photographic covers to receive any sales attention. That isn’t our sales policy as much as it is the bookselling industry’s.

Our retort was that there are plenty of examples of successful packaging for younger consumers in other media. I brought up album art for Arcade Fire, The Decemberists, Neko Case, Sufjan Stevens, and the like (with the perhaps outdated notion that album art counts for anything today). Our mission was then to make a Decemberists cover; something hand-tooled, preferably brown and weathered. (We also requested it be printed an a specialty stock, which is something one can only experience by holding a copy in one’s hands.) I had wanted to work with Grady McFerrin for years, but given that teen jackets aren’t supposed to be illustrated, the opportunity to hire him did not exist until this moment. Grady and I both loved the idea of using wood panelling in the background as though this cover were being hung in the dining room of one of the characters in the book. His cover art was a little more ornate than what was printed on the hardcover and I readily admit that the cover we printed without the border and the angels is missing something.

The notion that teen jackets aren’t supposed to be illustrated makes me cringe. But WTCB is basically a YA book that looks nothing like a YA book. You could easily find it sitting in the fiction section alongside a couple of other novels and never know its audience was for teens. Was this a conscious intention from the get-go for both covers?

Indeed, I did not want this book to appear to be marketed to teenagers. This is a young-adult novel in that it features a teenaged protagonist and is published by the Children’s division, but it could just as easily be an adult novel given its thematic content and quality of execution. For that reason, I did not want to turn away adults who might be embarrassed to be seen reading a book for teens. I don’t mind designing a cover that might turn off a large number of people because I presume that a segment of potential readers remains, waiting for something different—and better—than the usual fare to come along and speak to them. This book was not expected to reach the best-seller list when it released. I can say that without disparaging Corey’s work because I believe that most of the books that sell in bulk are completely awful. The good stuff just isn’t popular.

The editor and I talked about this being the kind of book a few people will find and fall in love with; it will be a book all their own and it won’t be ruined by being overexposed. I compare it to the feeling of reading The Virgin Suicides before Middlesex came along. (The first edition cover is very spare and nearly perfect.) I figured all throughout the design process that no matter what I did with the hardcover, it was going to change for later editions. Not only would our Sales force recommend that we do the book a favour and try something friendlier on the paperback edition, but that this book would start to gain some accolades and really come to life in time, and that extra attention would bring about a repackage. This book is unusual, in many splendid ways, and wrapping it in a commonplace jacket in order to attract readers who probably won’t appreciate it while discouraging those who would was always a bad strategy. If there were any boy-and-girl scene I would have suggested for the cover, it would have been Cullen waking up in Alma Ember’s bed, and that was sure to upset somebody. 

Oh, yes, I’m sure that would’ve ruffled a few feathers. You mention that you knew while designing the hardcover, the paperback would need to be a friendlier version. How did the re-design for the paperback come about? It’s simple, but alluring. What was the thought and design process behind the new cover?

As I suggested, not many people much cared for the hardcover design. Book reviews tend to concern themselves very little with the packaging, and yet a number of them have, for this book, singled out the cover for derision. My consolation is that this a popular cover among designers, and since we tend to have the reputation as being the cool kids, that was all the approval I needed. Everyone wanted the opportunity to bring this book to their accounts for a second chance to sell it in. To do that, it needed a new look. The publisher gave me complete freedom to design the paperback edition because, I suspect, he figured that I couldn’t do any worse than the hardcover.

I revisited some of the ideas thrown out during the hardcover design process. One was a parody of the Led Zeppelin tour shirt Gabriel wears in the story. Another was to emulate Notes from the Dog by Gary Paulsen, which the editor and I appreciated for being a successful, illustrated cover for teens. I ran with the Book of Enoch theme in some admittedly bizarre ways, including bloody angel wings. I also made a photographic collages of an ivory-billed woodpecker, a motel TV set from the 1970s, a boy in a gilt frame who looked like my image of Gabriel, some more wood panelling, and an Arkansas landscape. These cover comps were increasingly speaking only to somebody who knew the novel very well already, as opposed to a reader who was seeing it for the first time.

In the end we went for simplicity. (I had been reading The Sayings of the Desert Fathers and one line was quite pertinent: “Now the definition of virtue and philosophy is: simplicity with prudence.”) Joel Holland illustrated the paperback cover. Like Grady, Joel was an illustrator whose name I had at the top of my list for years. He likewise loved the project and turned in amazing work. The original colour scheme was going to be red and black, but that palette seemed to dwell on the darker components of the story rather than the more optimistic ones. The background is now a vibrant spot blue, which can only begin to be reproduced on a monitor.

Only after the fact did I see that I had been borrowing from one of my favourite covers, The Voyeur by Alain Robbe-Grillet. A few other similar covers were brought to my attention after the fact, including The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and Wonder by    R. J. Palacio. 

What’s your design theory when it comes to storytelling across a novel’s cover? How do you balance audience, story, and marketing while maintaining creative integrity?

My opinion of what makes for a good cover is just about the opposite of what popular opinion dictates. I always prefer to tell something specific about the story in the cover; all the better if it is a bonus for the reader after finishing the story. For the paperback cover, the silhouette of the woodpecker flying with its wings spread wide refers generally to the alleged sighting of the bird relatively early in the book but more specifically to Lucas’ description of it in the last chapter. The woodpecker is a symbol for the people of Lily and what it can do to revive the town, a symbol for Cullen of what he sees wrong with the town’s misplaced brand of faith [...]. The title Where Things Come Back plays a subtle trick on the reader.

As I said, I don’t design for what I think teenagers might want to see. I’m not a teenager. Given how many young-adult books are clearly written for a female audience, I especially don’t know what a teenaged girl wants. I am certainly not interested in being trendy. I simply try to design a cover that is right for the book. I want to stay true to the details of the book, whether that means ensuring that any figures match the physical description of the characters but that the other elements of the design are accurate: not being anachronistic with the wardrobe or even the typeface, not using the incorrect setting, and so forth.

Beyond that, I want the cover to stand out by being different. A cover of mine may, by popular standards, be a little on the unglamorous side. Covers don’t all need photogenic models on them. Our industry has become even more ridiculous on that count because most covers take themselves far too seriously. I shouldn’t imply that I do not take a book seriously. The cover design process lasts months or perhaps years and I have been working on Where Things Come Back off and on for about eighteen months. I must have designed two dozen different comps for it. One criticism I have yet to read about one of my covers is that it is wrong for the book. It may not be what somebody wants, but it makes a kind of sense that may not be obvious. I don’t really like to be obvious unless the other options are exhausted.

I should also say that a good deal of my effort goes toward ensuring the author is happy with the cover. This doesn’t usually mean that the author is difficult to please although it does happen on occasion. I know how much effort an author dedicates in writing (and editing and rewriting) a book and I feel that the book deserves better than the first idea I have that pleases everybody. For Corey, this is his first book. It was doubly important that my design pleased him because this is what he would be bringing home to his family and friends to prove that he had made it as a writer. 

I definitely gathered he was pleased in his interview. So eighteen months to design the cover! I can only imagine what that process was like, especially juggling other creative projects concurrently. What were the easiest parts of the process of designing both covers? The hardest?

Not much was easy about designing this book; there were a lot of battles. I always had the support of the author and editor, which is crucial. If they weren’t on board with me, this would have been a still more difficult assignment. Grady and Joel did the hard part of illustrating the covers. That much was easy for me. 

Who inspires you?

Neil Kellerhouse

Neil Kellerhouse and everyone who designs for the Criterion Collection are so good that I steal from them as much as I am capable. John Gall, Paul Sahre, and Helen Yentus are always seemingly doing something that I wanted to do before I even thought of it. I look at movie posters a lot for inspiration too. That behaviour is often discouraged by purists, yet we are in the business of making money and movies make a lot more money than books, which is how I see things when I am feeling cynical or practical. Perhaps publishers don’t want to admit that a book’s greatest aspiration is now to become a movie. (It should be noted that the Gotham Group has optioned the film rights for Where Things Come Back. There is a book trailer on Corey’s site, which only amplifies how much I would love to see this made into a film.) I also work with a number of designers at Simon & Schuster who are so much more talented than I am that I often consider changing careers. 

Please don’t change careers! For the love of…please just don’t.

Last prompt, and always a fun one — name three of your favorite pieces of cover art  — designed by someone else.

I already mentioned The Voyeur and The Virgin Suicides as two of my favourite covers. That I made reference to them while working on Where Things Come Back is a testament to how good I found this book to be because I wanted this to look like it belonged in that group. I have a few random selections of the many covers I keep hanging around for inspiration.

Some I like because I enjoyed the book and now the cover has positive associations. You’ll see that I love type so much that I don’t consider images necessary for a cover. There are also times I love an image so much that type is unnecessary.

To be fair to children’s designers I include one recent young-adult jacket that is simply amazing. Lizzy Bromley designed it for our flagship, S&S Books for Young Readers. Once it’s a printed book, I recommend looking at it in person. Anyone can splash a model in a gown on a cover. This cover surpasses all of them. The props are fantastic, especially the rocking horse. I love all of the geometry in the green layer (which will be stamped foil). It has a lot of motion going on for being a still life.

Oh, that Fever cover. I have to admit I was thoroughly confused by this cover at first. My friend Asheley recently read it and has convinced me that this cover is seamlessly interwoven with its story. I’ll definitely have to keep an eye out for it when it’s in bookstores. (Mmm…stamped foil.)

Thank you so much for stopping by the blog, Michael. It’s been a pleasure cover-talking Where Things Come Back these past few days and my hope is that more publishers recognize the need for cover art that does right by its story and author, and not just by its marketability. I will definitely be reading the novel very, very soon!

TCG: I think there’s some sort of homing device that’s been implanted in my brain that immediately draws me to illustrated covers. WTCB’s hardcover artwork first beeped across my YA cover radar because in a sea of dots moving one direction, it was the oddball that seemed to be moving opposite of everyone else. Did you get to provide any insight/feedback during its conceptual phase? What was it like for you, the day that your cover art showed up in your inbox? What was your initial reaction?

JCW: First off-that’s freakin’ awesome of you to say. I felt the same way when I saw it for the first time last year. My whole involvement in the conceptual phase of the cover design consisted of a discussion with my editor about indie concert posters and the idea of some iconic image with large letters, etc. The rest was up to them—a team I fully trusted would create something brilliant. And, when I opened up the email attachment and saw it for the first time, I was floored. They managed to create something wholly original, yet seemingly tapped from some inner wish in my brain.

The most eye-catching part of WTCB’s hardcover is its execution. I haven’t had a chance to see it out in the wild (heh), and can only imagine a finish that fits its face. What’s your favorite part about the cover?

My favorite part? Geez that’s a hard one. I love the lettering of the title and name…the way they sort of jump out at you. I also, or course, love the bird. But, the coolest thing about it, to me anyway, is the textured, non-glossy feel of it. When you hold it, it actually feels a bit like the wood paneling it’s supposed to simulate…it’s so awesome. 

I need this book in my hot little hands very, very soon – I’m a bit of a texture enthusiast when it comes to book design, and love it when its use actually means something and isn’t gimmicky. Now let’s talk about the paperback cover…it’s like someone over at S&S knew exactly how to dial in the coordinates to my cover-lovin heart. I mean, really. Illustrated cover first, and now a typography-based one? That’s simple? And symbolic? And carries a sense of timelessness? How does the treatment of each speak to the heart of your novel?

Well, it’s sort of like you just took my answer from me…haha. To be honest, it can be fairly nerve-racking as an author to wait and see the cover of your book—you know, what image will symbolize your work to the rest of the world….especially for a first-time author. But, you see, after Michael and team’s brilliant work on the hardcover, I trusted them wholeheartedly with the paperback. Did I think it would be such a huge departure from the first? Not really. But man oh man am I in love with it. I, like you, LOVE typography and always sort of envisioned my book covers to be heavy on the lettering, etc…you know, big, bold words and bright colors to contrast, etc. When I saw the paperback my first thought was: How on earth do they know exactly what I want without me even saying a word? Kismet. 

As an author, how do you feel about the storytelling side of cover art? Do you view it as a visual portal, a hook? Does it need to be succinct to a novel’s story? Or just garner attention? (Yay loaded questions!)

Oh boy…loaded question indeed. I think, now that I’m published, I have changed to way I view cover art a bit. In once sense, I look at it more objectively…because I’ve learned that not all authors have the same great experience I’ve had with loving their cover designs. It’s hard for us not to judge something based on its initial appearance (see also: every stereotype on earth), but I know some authors out there who have mixed emotions about their respective covers, etc., as far as how they think the covers stand for their work. I definitely think that covers serve as a hook and portal, because, you know, you can’t have a book sitting on a shelf opened up to the best, most convincing passage and expect that people will read it and all.

As far as being succinct with a novel’s story, yeah…I feel like the cover should, in some way, match the tone and feel of the novel. With WTCB, I feel like S&S did a great job in this respect with the hardcover and the paperback. The wood grain on the hardcover, for instance, immediately reminded me of the southern, rural setting of the story and I loved that. And, with the paperback, the mysterious, almost intimidating silhouette of the bird..well, I think it just speaks a lot to some of the themes that I try to address in the story, just in a more visual, abstract manner.

In terms of YA cover art, are there any novels that have really stood out to you lately? Or perhaps any from your past that have resonated with you throughout the years?

For sure. I’m not sure they count as YA, but I love the covers for Jonathan Safran Foer’s novels (Everything is Illuminated, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (see also the movie tie-in cover that was recently released, which is brilliant as well), and Eating Animals).

It’s like an unofficial Jonathan Safran Foer celebration month here on TCG. Jon Gray should be extremely proud.

Other covers I love this year have been The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (such a cool, haunting design), and The Art of Fielding (there’s that typography again).

Thanks kindly for the interview, Corey! For those of you who’ve enjoyed today and yesterday’s posts, you’ll definitely want to stick around for tomorrow’s interview with S&S senior designer Michael McCartney. I may be a little biased here, but it’s kind of awesome.

And then there are people who recognize an ivory-billed woodpecker on cover art because they live in Arkansas.

Guess which camp I belong in.

I first saw the cover art for Where Things Come Back over the summer when Jordyn and Kelly read and rated it on Goodreads. It could be argued that this cover doesn’t look like a YA novel. (Clue #1: “No SGiPD present.”) Which is totally fine, because I’m in complete agreement. This cover just radiates a literary vibe. Its wood-grained illustration and complementary colors seem like gatekeepers to some mysterious story I need to know about. Kudos to S&S designer Michael McCartney and illustrator Grady McFerrin – it’s executed brilliantly.

Just like its paperback cousin.

When I first saw the paperback cover on Twitter, perhaps there was a brief moment where I stopped breathing. That’s a bit dramatic, but I can guarantee there was a moment of stillness, because the combination of color, silhouette and simplicity is nothing short of striking. The talented Joel Holland is the artist responsible for illustrating WTCB’s paperback counterpart. Even more cheers for its typographic elements, with the Hopkins blurb fashioned into the design and not stickered-on as an afterthought.

I’m told that the blue is even more vibrant in person, as well. From who? you may be asking. Oh I’m so glad you asked! This post marks the beginning of a three-part series featuring author Corey Whaley and designer Michael McCartney, who will be stopping by the blog tomorrow and Wednesday to talk more cover design. You may even see an alternate cover. But trust me, you won’t want to miss these interviews.

© Rebecca Röske

© Nathalia Suellen / LadySymphonia @ Deviantart

And voila:

© Random House Children's Books