Writers Can’t Do It All: How Designing My Own Book Cover Backfired Spectacularly
By Glory White
Writing has always come naturally to me. Growing up, I used to fill notebooks with short stories and scripts for school plays. Writing was fun, satisfying, and most importantly, easy. Art class, on the other hand, was definitely not my forte. Take, for example, the time I had to sculpt a head out of papier-mâché. My classmates all achieved varying levels of success, but I could not for the life of me create anything vaguely resembling a head. Eventually I gave up, made a spiky ball, colored it bright pink and purple, and told the teacher it was an alien hedgehog. When it came to drawing, my greatest artistic achievement was drawing a stick figure – and not a very good one at that.
Given my complete lack of artistic skills, hiring a professional to handle the artwork for my first book was a no-brainer. I did my research, found an insanely talented artist, and worked with him to craft the perfect spot illustrations. I had originally planned to do the same for the book cover, but after giving it some thought, I realized that I knew exactly how I wanted my cover to look. This led me to wonder if technology could help me overcome my artistic shortcomings and allow me to design the cover of my dreams. Perhaps there was an artist within me after all.
My book explores the answers fifty different religions provide for life’s most compelling questions. When I researched my book, I actively sought out religions with unexpected and inspiring takes on the questions we all ask. The result, a surprisingly diverse collection of traditional wisdom, required a cover that captured its essence fully. This is why I chose to incorporate an element from Michelangelo’s “The Creation of Adam” into my cover. The Creation of Adam, a famous fresco painting on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling, is perhaps the most replicated religious painting in history. It depicts God and Adam, arms outstretched and fingers almost touching, freezing the moment when God bestowed Adam with the spark of life for all eternity. This instantly recognizable scene was just what I needed.
I cropped God’s hand out of a photograph I took when I visited the Sistine Chapel on my honeymoon and replaced Adam’s hand with an image of the Earth, hoping to convey the idea that religions all around the world were divinely inspired. I then fiddled with a starry background, selected the perfect font for my title, and voila – my cover design was complete. I showed it off in the weeks leading up to my book’s publication, and everyone oohed and aahed at how professional it looked. Looking back, I realize that some people were just being nice, but at the time I was too proud of my cover to notice.
The first few months after my book was published were positively glorious. I was now a writer and bona fide cover designer – I had done it all! I even began toying with the idea of harnessing an AI image generator to create the spot illustrations for my next book. The sky truly seemed to be the limit for my newly discovered artistic skills.
Then one day, I woke up to a disconcerting email from Amazon. “It has come to our attention that the following book may include one or more images on your book’s cover for which you may not have the necessary rights,” it began. My book’s Amazon Standard Identification Number appeared below, followed by the sentence no writer wants to read: “We've made this book unavailable for sale.” I gripped my phone with shaking hands and tried to compose myself as I read the rest of the email. There were two ways to save my magnum opus, I learned. I could provide written documentation proving my right to use all of the images in my book. Alternatively, I could remove images from my cover and redesign it. Either way, I’d have to solve the problem and reply within five days, after which my book could become permanently unavailable for sale.
The ominous email’s timing was atrocious. I was only ten days away from discussing my book on a podcast, and I absolutely had to restore my book by then. Michelangelo died over four centuries ago, so I was confident his exclusive rights to the image of God’s hand had long since expired. That left the ubiquitous image of the Earth featured on my cover. I had obtained this (free) image from a site that allows its images to be used for commercial purposes, a fact I explained in my reply to Amazon. I also attached a screenshot of the program I used to design my cover and my illustrator’s contract for good measure.
I spent the next two days panicking and Googling my predicament. To my horror, I discovered that many writers believe that Amazon uses AI to single out problematic images and evaluate writers’ replies to automatically generated emails. In other words, my carefully crafted reply, which I was certain could convince any sentient being to free my book, would likely never be seen by human eyes. Instead, it would probably be assessed by a senseless bot tasked with sealing my book’s fate.
Eventually I caved and redesigned my cover. I purchased an image of the Earth as well as an image of God’s hand, just in case. I used these images and new background stars to create a jazzed up version of my cover, and emailed Amazon the receipts. Four anxiety-ridden days later, I received an email informing me that my book had passed its review. I’d have to wait up to 48 hours for it to become available again, but it would be restored right before the podcast! I was so relieved, I literally jumped with joy.
So is designing your own book cover worth it? Yes and no. My misadventure has taught me that writers can’t do it all, and should probably stick to writing. But if you ever decide to extend your creativity to the artistic sphere, do yourself a favor and save your receipts.
Glory White lives with her husband and two mischievous children and writes about religion and science. Her book, 50 Answers: How World Religions Grapple with Life’s Biggest Questions, is available on Amazon.com.