cell coverage: the game of triumphs |
I’ve been to the bookstore twice this week. Once, because it was close to where Hubs and I had dinner, and again when I went with my good friend Lauren (who will be on the blog next week!). But since I’m currently on a book-buying ban, both adventures were primarily spent just gazing at cover art like a loon.
To be frank, the YA cover art well has been running pretty dry for me lately. I’ve had more than my fair share of Sad Girls in Pretty Dresses. Publishers, I get it. Everyone and their mother likes a sad girl in a pretty dress on a cover. Just not this girl, ok?
But you know what I do like? Surprise, surprise: silhouettes, black, and red. It’s a weakness, really.
So I was totally digging The Game of Triumphs’ cover. Until I turned it over to the backside of its jacket:
You might be thinking: What? What am I supposed to be looking for? Is this some sort of Magic Eye trick or something?
No, there isn’t anything weird or something not-so-obvious going on here. And yes, that gawdy sticker is hanging out in an odd place on the jacket, but can someone please tell me WHAT THOSE WORDS SAY?
Apparently my old lady hands can’t hold a phone still, either.
I immediately faced the back of the novel to Lauren after staring at it for a few seconds, puzzled.
“What does this say?” I demanded. “MY OLD LADY EYES CANNOT READ THIS.”
Lauren leaned toward the book and blinked twice. “I have no idea.”
I love different typefaces, and I especially love them when they work beautifully within context. But when your copy is small, in all caps, and decorative and intricate, it makes my eyeballs work even more overtime.
If this was the new standard for eye charts, I’d fail miserably.
This entry was posted in cell coverage. Bookmark the permalink.
