Books, Covers

Today I received the hardcopy in the post. Of the cover. 

Now who gets excited about covers, you want to know?

Only pernickety publishing people, probably, of which, of course, I am one. And also, perhaps, some normal mortals, who find themselves (in a pre-lockdown-scenario, just roll with it) in a bookshop, choosing the perfect book for their significant other, or their friend, who is a bookworm, like them. Bear with me. Covers can be exciting. Especially when you jump, head first, into a charity project during a pandemic, not knowing what to expect, and it gains momentum, and more and more people jump on board, and then, suddenly, it's this much bigger thing, and you're doing a coffee table book and you need a cover! And you're normally used to dealing with the 'front-end' stuff, like authors and content and design briefs and suchlike, mainly in the educational sphere, and not in what's known as 'trade' publishing. But you want to do it right, and so, you have called in the advice of the experts, to sort through various paper types, thicknesses (120 gsm? 130? 150?) and finishes (matt, silk, chocolate?). And finally you decide on the perfect cover for the very first time, and so, it's a teeny tiny little big deal. 

What a shame there's no such thing as a chocolate cover. But I can assure you, this is the next best thing!

And here it is. It's black and shiny and impossible to photograph, at least if you're not a professional photographer, which, clearly, I am not. I have to say it's better than I'd ever hoped. The paper is good and sturdy, which are, of course, supply chain publishing terms, and don't at all sound like my grandmother's appraisal of my German winter boots when I was 11.
The contrasts and grey scales look perfect. Another step closer to ​paradise. I will keep you updated, so if you haven't yet, subscribe to my newsletter and every time I blog about the book, you will get an update in your inbox. Right, where's the chocolate?