What's In A Cover?

My publisher, Turnstone Press, sent me the cover for my upcoming book of stories, Fatted Calf Blues, to get my opinion. I have to admit I loved it on first sight. It was not what I had expected, which was definitely part of its appeal. In fact, earlier on I had been asked if I had any suggestions for a cover image. My initial idea was a cow skull, like a Georgia O'Keefe painting,  which, paired with my title, appealed to my dark sense of humour. 

But the image that my publisher chose - a chrome exhaust pipe jutting up from an eighteen-wheeler - is a fitting one. The title story takes place at a truck stop in Manitoba and some of the characters are truckers. The whole sense of life reflected in the chrome exhaust pipe that the photo depicts seems apt. It is a striking image that I think will garner some attention. Whether it actually helps sell the book is another matter.

I buy books mostly from the remainder bin in the larger chain stores or at second-hand shops. I usually buy them based on the author - either someone I have read before and enjoyed or have read about and am curious to find out more. Or I buy them based on the title, from having read a review or recommended by a friend. But it is rare that I have ever bought a book based on the cover design. It may very well have happened, but my memory is either failing or too embarrassed to provide an example. 

Which isn't to say that I am immune to the allure of a good cover design or haven't been influenced by one. That was more the case when I used to buy record albums back in the day. And to a lesser degree CDs, later on in the day. Album art has since been lauded for its own aesthetic worth, but it has also been immortalized as being intrinsically connected to the music inside. When you think of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band  you immediately envision that immortal history of pop culture collage on the front as well as the kaleidoscopic music inside. Unzipping the blue jeans on the front of the Sticky Fingers  jacket (revealing a pair of tighty whiteys inside) is as much a part of the music listening experience as hearing Keith Richards' opening chords to Brown Sugar.

Maybe it was the size of the record album that made the cover art so appealing. CDs don't really do the trick for me. Perhaps that is why the cover for a book, while important, will never reach the status of art in itself. Who remembers the cover for the first edition of The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz  or Under The Volcano? And even if you do, chances are the copy you buy today will not feature the same cover design. This is especially true if the book has been made into a hit film. Then the cover will feature whatever image helped sell the film. The book then becomes, in a way, subservient to another medium. A way of saying, "If you liked the movie you just might like this lesser facsimile of typed words on a page." 

But I'm one to talk. I've already written a screenplay of Fatted Calf Blues. And if it actually gets made into a film I may just see my original concept of a cow skull on the poster. And, God willing, maybe even on the cover of a future edition of the book.