Cover Snark: What Are They Thinking?

Glorious things happen when I clean out an office file cabinet, and not just that I get more organized. I find COVERS. Long ago in publishing, by which I mean a few years back, sometimes a flat version of a book cover was produced, leading to the somewhat obvious term, “cover flat.” It’s about as exciting as you think: the front of the book, the spine and the back, all one one flat piece of card stock.

But these are very special cover flats. These are ZEBRA COVER FLATS. There is no fuchsia like Zebra romance fuchsia. Let’s have a look, shall we?

Sarah: Awwww yeah. An Irish Wind. Which coincidentally also translates identically from the Gaelic for, ‘Where did you find that pleather shirt?’ and ‘He farts butterflies.’

Elyse: His Irish Wind is keeping that butterfly aloft.

Amanda: I feel like if Lisa Frank started to make romance covers, this would be a first draft (Draft, get it? Hehehehe). Also, needs more butterflies.

Carrie: Well, obviously someone wasn’t thinking clearly about the title.  I mean, the fart jokes sort of write themselves.  Visually, it’s really pink and yet sort of depressing.  It looks like something Lisa Frank would make if she was very, very sad.

Sarah: This is a perfect example of how the covers like this do a great service to my sense of humor but a disservice to the plot inside. The cover is all kinds of eyeburning, but the contents appear to be EVEN MORE SO.

Get a load of the cover copy for this book:

When the most accomplished master printer in colonial Williamsburg is accused of counterfeiting money, she is outraged. Samarra Seldon has constantly had to prove that a woman could succeed in business, and the last thing she needs is an arrogant Britisher’s accusations–even if his gaze makes her tremble with desire.

Setting aside the part where a Colonial heroine shares a name with an Iraqi city, I’d read the crap out of that. Once my eyes healed the retina burns from the cover.

To be fair, though, his majestic mullet is a good match for the “gaze making her tremble with desire” part.

Elyse: When Autumn foliage attacks.

Amanda: What is happening here? Is the moon still out? Are they about to be swept away in a tornado of old leaves? Is that why his shirt looks like it’s going to be ripped from his body? Is that Debra Messing? 

Sarah: No, though it looks like the moon. That’s a hole punched in the cardboard. But it would have been better with a full moon!

Carrie: LEAF EXPLOSION!  ORANGE ALERT!  THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

Sarah: She found blazing passion in the cold Canadian wilderness! Canada, YOU HAVE BEEN HOLDING OUT ON US. It’s plenty cold and you sent it down here. SEND THE BLAZING PASSION ALREADY.

Carrie: Of course they are cold: their clothes are falling off.  Also, judging from her expression, he’s been out in the Canadian wilderness sans soap and deodorant for a little too long.  I know “smells like man” is a romance novel staple, but a little man smell goes a long way.

Amanda: Five bucks says that mullet is the real secret to fighting the “cold Canadian wilderness.”

Sarah: Wait. I have a question. My eyes have healed from the leafsplosion cover, and I’ve been staring at this one too long.

If they’ve both closed their eyes, and they’re not looking at each other, exactly what are they about to do here? Tango? Is he listening to see if her jaw pops so he can diagnose her with TMJ?

Amanda: I feel like we should have seen a nipple by now, but alas…there’s nothing. Not even if you squint really hard.

Sarah: Oh, no, nipple is imminent. We have Imminent Nipple.

Coincidentally, that’s the name of my new Hall & Oates cover band.

Carrie: She’s about to grab that sword, stab him through the guts, and walk off with a smug expression on her improbably eye-shadowed face.

Sarah: OH MY GOSH you guys. LOOK AT THE SWORD HILT. WHAT COULD IT MEAN? WHAT COULD IT MEAN?