The Importance of Good Cover Art

Every so often, I find myself thinking about things like how the position of my desk influences my work ethic. Mostly because I don't want to think about other mundane things, like the fact that there are still unpacked boxes in my room from the move, even though we're well past the point of time where unpacked boxes are acceptable. It's one thing to have unpacked boxes a few days, or even a week after you move. But it's been, what, three weeks now?

Okay, so I just checked my calender and it's really only been two weeks. But still. I should finish unpacking them. Plus, I still have pictures to hang. It's one of my life's little neurotic quirks that I can't stand bare walls. There's just something about them that annoy me, which is why if there's a wall in my space that could fit a good picture of poster, well, damn it, there should be something there!

These are all thoughts of a mind that's spent a week feeling simultaneously inspired and crushed by the vagaries of life.

I really need to clean my desk off. And do laundry. And unpack those boxes.

I remember when I went to TusCon back in 2008 and won an award for a short story. It was a really exciting experience to be recognized by published (in other words, real) writers and not only get critique on my own little piece, but also talk with them extensively about writing and being a writer and all of that. The problem was at the time, I wasn't writing regularly, in fact, I wasn't writing at all. That short story was quite possibly the only thing I'd written over the course of the entire year and I can remember sitting there, feeling like I was some kind of fraud. I remember talking about a book I'd written when I was sixteen, and talking about the sequel that I stopped working on when I turned 18 or 19... can't really remember at this point.

I just remember wanting to feel so much like I belonged, like I deserved to be there. I remember not really having anything to say about writing, because what do you say at that point? You can't talk about your habits. You can't talk about feeling inspired. You can't talk about anything, because there's nothing there.

Why am I talking about this thing that happened two years ago?

I suppose it's because I went to the Tucson Festival of Books and met author John Gentile. I'd first heard about John through my mom, who read his work and really enjoyed them, and then ended up meeting him several times through some work connection (I don't precisely recall how that all played out.) Anyway, I'd heard a lot about him from my mom, so that when the opportunity presented itself to meet him yesterday, I was quite excited by the prospect.

And I was also rather nervous, because I remembered the TusCon thing. I remembered not knowing what to say. I remembered wanting to feel so much like I should belong, and feeling so awkward about it. I really didn't want that to happen again, and of course, it wasn't like that at all this time, because not only was John an amazingly approachable guy, I very much felt like the aspiring writer I've always tried to present myself as. Because, of course, I've been writing; because I have a story that I'm writing now, not something that was years in the past. I've come a long way in the four months since I first began working on "Fallen," and I'm really proud of that, and I'm proud of the fact that it's influenced my confidence as much as I have.

One other thing I wanted to note, in meeting John: he is very much the kind of writer that you hope you'll meet when you're an aspirant meeting a guy with his name on the cover. He was a pleasure to talk to and I remember consciously having to tell myself to step aside, because there was a line forming behind me of other people who wanted to meet him. One thing in particular that I remember was the fact that, unlike most people I've met, he didn't give me the bread-and-butter advice that I've heard and read a hundred times over: "just keep at it, just keep writing." I mean, yeah, that's great advice, quite possibly the single most important thing anybody's ever told me or ever will tell me, most likely, but at the same time, it's also the basic advice, the core, the foundation. It's something you hear when you're first starting out. We talked about pitching ideas and talking with agents and editors. In short, we talked, not about writing, but about the business of writing, the next step, in other words.

All of it made me feel very much like I belonged, like I was being treated like an actual fellow author (albeit unpublished) then just some kid with a dream of writing a book someday. And let me tell you, that made for a world of difference.

Also, he told me that it's important to have good cover art, which I completely agree with. So, really, the lesson I took away from the whole experience is find an artist who will do a great cover for me.

Important lessons, all around. Yesterday was a good day.