This is the story of a cover and two lovers who searched for it diligently through rain and hail and sleet and dark of night. And nearly a hundred hours of online Google work and about forty mock-ups, until the publisher said yes.
Originally, the cover of my coming-of-age novel Tributary was a gorgeous expansive shot of the
Bear River in northern Utah--the setting of the novel shining in all its glory.
The distributor said no, the cover needs to
tell a story and indicate time period and character.
So my beloved partner Jeff (aka cover designer extraordinaire) and I set out to do just that.
I jumped online and after many hours found and
fell in love with a great period dress on ETSY. Turns out Vera Vague, queen of online vintage chic, was both the seller of the dress and the model inside it, and she was thrilled to have her person and her dress on a novel about a young Mormon woman who escapes polygamy.
Vera and I emailed joyously back and forth, and here is the resulting cover.
The publisher's response was puzzlement. "Tell us about the flowers in the lower corner," they said. "What do they mean?" Puzzlement was not the response we'd expected, so we showed this cover to family members, who were also puzzled. Tepid and puzzled. Thus, with some sorrow, we let this cover go and proceeded to do a photo shoot. If you can’t find the image you need online, make it. Because most folks we'd asked wanted a sweaty, hard-working, active Clair, not a rigidly posed Clair with her head cut off. My Clair is not a city gal, and this cover made her seem so.
The Shoot: After securing Clair’s tomboy outerwear at local thrift and antique stores (large overalls
and a calico shirt and battered hat), my two sisters and brother-in-law and I tromped through the wilds with a period Remington rifle, taking 170 shots of me gazing out over grand vistas, some with rifle and some without. We also shot my sister's mid-length locks from behind, as I have short hair. Then Jeff worked his magic in Photoshop to produce this cover--Clair in her element.
The Shoot: After securing Clair’s tomboy outerwear at local thrift and antique stores (large overalls
and a calico shirt and battered hat), my two sisters and brother-in-law and I tromped through the wilds with a period Remington rifle, taking 170 shots of me gazing out over grand vistas, some with rifle and some without. We also shot my sister's mid-length locks from behind, as I have short hair. Then Jeff worked his magic in Photoshop to produce this cover--Clair in her element.
The publisher commented on Clair’s hair conditioner and highlights, and said the photo didn’t look 19th century. Jeff had spent two late nights and many long hours getting it right (he created three or four different versions of it, full color and sepia tone). Bah! We were three covers in, with nothing to show. And fully aware of how hard it is to make contemporary photographs look antique.
We inserted a shot of my grandmother, who is Clair, into the Bear River scene. Jeff even Photoshopped in the
Port Wine Stain mark on Clair's left cheek.
Too sweet. No story.
Then Jeff found the image of this gorgeous old barn in grass, which does indicate place and circumstance, but alas, this too was too sweet. Too quiet. And most readers want to imagine the heroine's face, not have
her plastered on the book's cover. Good-bye, Grandma. And good-bye to Jeff's favorite cover design.
With seven days left to meet the publisher's deadline, I had a vision. At 3:30 in the morning, inspired in part by growing guilt at all of the unpaid work Jeff had invested on my behalf, I saw a stack of Clair’s pressed flower cards above cracked earth. Earth stained by water. To me, being a poetic sort, this metaphor showed beauty arising from the difficult barren desert. We couldn't find an image of Clair herself, so the work of her hands stood in for her.
I genuinely love this cover. Jeff did, too. We thought we had it. I danced in the kitchen and felt carefree. “It's pretty. But where is Clair’s spirit?” the publisher asked. "Where is the journey?"
Jeff and I ground our teeth, and trekked onward into the historical cover fog!
Jeff and I ground our teeth, and trekked onward into the historical cover fog!
We dallied with the one and only period photograph
I found of a woman actually working.
Not Clair. Not right.
Then we went back to the dark dress in profile, adding
the flower cards instead of the puzzling red Indian Paintbrush. Clair made and sold these cards, in my novel, so they had meaning. But alas, while searching for other historical covers
to inspire us, I found that we had created the perfect
romance novel cover . . .
Arghhhh. Clair's story is if anything an anti-romance. Back, yes back, to the Google search. I literally burned my eyeballs searching for images online for ten hours straight (I call it OCB—ocular computer burn). Nothing nothing nothing worked. Women in 1870 did not pose casually in their work wear for photographs. I lay on the couch that night in the dark, my eyes and my heart despondent, when my dear friend Lisa Jones called. Lisa knew about my novel and knew about the trying cover search. A first-rate author and intrepid visionary, Lisa said, “I see a river, I see a tributary. I see a Shoshone woman walking beside Clair in a snowstorm. There’s your journey. That’s your story.”
“That may be what you see," I said, "but it doesn’t exist.”
“We’ll shoot it ourselves. I have two Indian blankets. We’ll use an I Phone, make it blurry, you know, a Blair Witch Project without the scary bits. Your cover needs grit.” I called Jeff late that night. “Ain’t this a nutty idea of Lisa's?” He said, “It is fabulous. Go for it. The I Phone 4 takes high resolution photos. You’ll be tiny on the actual cover, so we only need outlines. We can add the snow, if it doesn’t snow tomorrow!”
So I gathered up my battered enthusiasm and off we went this past Sunday tromping through Colorado wilderness in eight degree weather. With Jeff’s daughter in pigtail braids, Lisa Jones with two I Phones, and only thrift store shawls and blankets to keep us warm. You may be saying to yourself about now, does this woman ever learn her lesson? Bonding with friends and family on a photo shoot trumps the need for results, the need for a cover. Really, how much more blessed could I be?
“That may be what you see," I said, "but it doesn’t exist.”
“We’ll shoot it ourselves. I have two Indian blankets. We’ll use an I Phone, make it blurry, you know, a Blair Witch Project without the scary bits. Your cover needs grit.” I called Jeff late that night. “Ain’t this a nutty idea of Lisa's?” He said, “It is fabulous. Go for it. The I Phone 4 takes high resolution photos. You’ll be tiny on the actual cover, so we only need outlines. We can add the snow, if it doesn’t snow tomorrow!”
So I gathered up my battered enthusiasm and off we went this past Sunday tromping through Colorado wilderness in eight degree weather. With Jeff’s daughter in pigtail braids, Lisa Jones with two I Phones, and only thrift store shawls and blankets to keep us warm. You may be saying to yourself about now, does this woman ever learn her lesson? Bonding with friends and family on a photo shoot trumps the need for results, the need for a cover. Really, how much more blessed could I be?
We had a wonderful time. Lisa plunged through snow and bushes, shooting 170 photographs at three different locales, and here’s what Jeff put together from that shoot.
Publisher's response to this mock-up: “Beautiful image, but I’m not seeing the 19th century Clair in there.” Can you hear our groans of agony? At this point, Jeff and I have five days until the cover is due. Jeff wheels into montage mode and, working doggedly, delivers this.
Which sends me out the door, crying in private,
it is so gloomy and has nothing of Clair’s spirit
or the spirit of the novel in it at all. It looks like
a non-fiction downer.
Then late last night, after dinner and a few laughs, with that little unquenchable spark of "I know you are out there somewhere" pushing me to try yet again, I typed “19th century pioneer women’s shoulders” into Google because that is exactly
what I needed to see.
And I found it. I found Clair.
Now if this blog were a novel, you'd have the ending right here, happy or not. And if this cover were in the bag, I might even show you the results. But being keen on representing the human condition fairly, I’d rather you felt the frustration and cliff-hanger unknowing that creating this cover has caused for us.
Yes, the publisher loved the new cover image. No we haven’t secured rights to use it. We may not even get permission, and will have to stage yet another photo shoot to recreate the look ourselves! With three days to go. Impossible?!
The moral of this Cover Story: If anyone ever asks you to design a historical novel’s cover, say no. Unless you value the journey more than the destination. This was our journey. You’ll have to wait for a later blog to see the destination, that is the final cover of Tributary. Let’s hope it’s a good ‘un.
Or I'm going for a brown paper bag.
(Feel free to vote on your favorite cover!)
(And feel free to hire Jeff for your cover design needs, unless your book is historical fiction!)
Yes, the publisher loved the new cover image. No we haven’t secured rights to use it. We may not even get permission, and will have to stage yet another photo shoot to recreate the look ourselves! With three days to go. Impossible?!
The moral of this Cover Story: If anyone ever asks you to design a historical novel’s cover, say no. Unless you value the journey more than the destination. This was our journey. You’ll have to wait for a later blog to see the destination, that is the final cover of Tributary. Let’s hope it’s a good ‘un.
Or I'm going for a brown paper bag.
(Feel free to vote on your favorite cover!)
(And feel free to hire Jeff for your cover design needs, unless your book is historical fiction!)
