Judge a book by its cover. Right now.

I do it.  I do it all the time.  Show me a book cover and I'll tell you how likely I am to enjoy it.  I know "they" say it shouldn't be done, but I'm here to tell you "they" are wrong.  Here's why:

No hidden meanings in these books...

1. Publishers chose covers, not authors:
Sometimes they even chose titles.  Why? Because they've been at it and they (hopefully) know what they're doing.  I've seen some author chosen covers and they are not good.  For example, Vanessa Sleeping Naked is Green.  But I like it.  It's funny.  It represents the book well, which is also funny.   Writers write and publishers market.  So go marketing team, you sold me a book.  See, not all marketing is bad.  Farquharson hated the cover of her book,

Political books often feature a photo of the author on the cover.  That's because publishers know that the readers who are going to pick that book up are doing it because they recognize the author and may want to read what they have to say.  Many of those authors may not have chosen to put themselves on the covers (or maybe they would.  Ugh, politicians).

About Beck's ego, not Washington

In some cases a cover can help give you an idea of the writing quality and how much faith a publisher has in the book to begin with.  I won't name any names because I'm not out to insult anyone, but some covers just look thrown together.  If little effort was put into creating an intriguing cover, it may be that the publisher was less excited about it.  All authors will want a high-quality, expensive-looking cover, but sometimes the books just don't merit one.  Don't worry too much about this though when shopping, because of the reasons below.

2. Demographics:
Publishers know their audience.  They know what age, gender, and interests they should target in their readers and will pick a cover that appeals to those people.  For example, when I look for a kids' book, I don't want anything that is too strongly male or female.  I like stories to be fantastical, but not strictly fantasy.  I also like things kind of creepy, but not scary.  No surprise that I picked up Gustav Gloom, The Girl who Circumnavigated, and also The Tell-Tale Start.  All of these books have gender neutral* covers and are a little mysterious-looking.  Loved them.  Harry Potter? Yep, you fit the bill.

I also hate reading books about young love, lust, or anything in between.  It's a no-brainer that I won't be reading Sarah Dessen this summer, as all of her covers are marketed to a female audience and have all kinds of hearts and frills on the covers.  I don't like violence either, so I won't be reading Department 19.  That doesn't mean these are bad books, it just means they were not marketed to my interests.

Personal copy #127

That's just kid's books.  I can go on and on about adult books, because they are a little less obvious with the covers.  However, it's safe to say that if you are drawn to a cover, it's probably because you were meant to be. (Hello, impulse purchase of Farewell My Subaru, a book I highly recommend.)

Sometimes a book gets a new cover to appeal to a newer audience.  Ursula Le Guin's books got new covers that appeal to a slightly younger audience than they did originally.  That makes sense because a YA reader could enjoy them just as much as a reader of adult fantasy.  Classic books often get neat classic, old-timey looking covers, to show off their timelessness.  (How many editions of Jane Eyre do I own, just because I loved the covers? I'll never tell.)

Yellow and about lights! Perfect!

3. Because you can:
You should pick up a book and be dazzled from the very start, meaning the cover.  You should be excited to open the book and get to reading.  Something about it should grab you and hold you.  A great cover is the first step to that.  Plus, you know best what looks prettiest in your home library.  I have a preference for yellow and orange books, myself.  No reason.  Just do.

*By gender neutral I mean that the book doesn't try to be a "boy book" or a "girl book."  You know, no fairies, gun, sports, or cleavage. Nothing that screams "I THINK GENDER IS IMPORTANT AND IN ORDER TO BE A PROPER GIRL/BOY YOU SHOULD LOVE THIS BOOK." It does not mean that there are no male or female characters on the cover.

Why I suck at blogging

So I guess you're expecting a blog post about an awesome new book I read.  Well, I did read an awesome new book and I was all set to write a post about it yesterday and have t up today.  The book is called Paleofantasy by Marlene Zuk and I loved it.  I loved it so much my brain was filled with hearts and stars while I read it.  But, I didn't write a post about it.  I am now going to be super-lame and explain my day yesterday, chock full of First World Problems.

It all started at 9am, when I was getting ready to leave for work.  I like to leave about an hour early so I have time to settle into the day and gauge the mood of everyone around me.  I got all of my stuff together and was about to walk out the door, when I realized my keys were not where I usually leave them.  Normally, I put them on the table next to the door.  I checked my coat pockets.  I checked my pants pockets.  I checked my backpack, the couch, the floor under the couch, the grocery bag from the day before, I even checked inside the fridge.  Nope.

Let me just stop here and explain that I never lose my keys.  I'm one of those annoyingly responsible people that always puts things away the moment I'm done using them.  After 15 minutes of looking, I finally texted my boyfriend to ask if he had picked them up for some sleep-induced, pre-coffee reason.  I was then able to locate the spare set of keys I didn't know I had and be on my way.  The clicker on it doesn't work, so when I got to the bookstore, I left the car unlocked and the alarm in valet mode so that I wouldn't need the clicker to get in.  Great.  Work.  Barely on time, but here.

I was scheduled to be in the kid's department all day, most of it by myself because of some staffing conflicts with other members of the kid's crew.  It was pretty busy and the customers seemed determined to make a mess the second I thought I was finished picking up.  My manager came in on his day off to lend a hand and things were going smoothly.  Then he got called away and I was on my own again.  None of this is a big deal, it just meant that I couldn't draft out a review for the book.  I thought that might happen, so I figured I'd just write it when I got home last night.

Fast forward to 7:08pm when my co-workers and I were getting out to our cars.  I grabbed the door handle and pulled.  Shit.  The car had locked itself, like the glitchy, resentful, little beast that it is.  I used my key to unlock it and, sure enough, the alarm went off.  An uncontrolled string of swears escaped my mouth.  I tried to start the car anyway, but of course that didn't work.  I tried waiting for it to stop, then starting it, but that just set it off again.  I pulled out the manual and found the part about the emergency shut-off button for the alarm.  My co-worker gave me a flashlight and I rooted around under the steering wheel looking for it, when the police show up.  I then explained what the heck I was doing with a flashlight under the steering wheel of a car with the alarm going off.  Another co-worker gave me a screwdriver to open my clicker and see if any of us had the same battery.  No such luck.

I figured I'd just buy a new battery, but the radio shack and the drug store were closed, so that left gas stations and supermarkets.  Finally, after trying every open store in town (so maybe 5, tops) my boyfriend had to come to town with my car keys (which it turns out he did take by accident, because he hates me and wants to ruin my life. Except not at all and it was just a long day) and disarm the alarm so we could go home.  It was probably 9pm when we finally got home, so there was no way I was writing a book review.  Sorry.

That's my lame story.  The point is, if you're thinking about moving to a really small town in Vermont, don't.  At least not without a working spare set of car keys.

Growing up with banned books

I was lucky enough to come from a family that didn't really believe in censorship, so my mother was always happy to read any books with me, or discuss them, if I showed an interest. She generally let me decide for myself what was too advanced, or too scary for me (I will also mention that watching The Shining all the way through is a right of passage in my family, where scaring the snot out of your kids is just part of raising them properly). When I was about 7 or 8, and just becoming interested in adult books, my mother read me1984, which has been banned repeatedly in schools, libraries, and sometimes entire countries.

What better book is there to teach us about the dangers of censorship and the tragedy of losing our autonomy? I still remember being drawn to the cover of her amazing edition from the 70's (I later lost that copy of the book when I accidentally dropped it in a dumpster years later, while taking out the trash. Apparently I couldn't put it down long enough to leave it in our apartment for even this short trip). Although I didn't understand all of it then, it did give me a healthy distrust of authority. My mother has always been proud of this trait in me, though my teachers, managers, and landlords less so. I'm not saying I would not have learned this trait without the book, but I am saying that had my mother tried to shelter or censor my life and my reading choices, I would not be the strong-willed, independent person I am today.

I'm not recommending that a parent read a 7-year-old anything by Orwell though, because that's completely insane. What I am saying is that it may seem like a small thing to ban someone from one little book, but one book eventually becomes many and then suddenly we've got a case of Fahrenheit 451 on our hands. The very notion of this infuriates me to no extent, because although I am often overcome with a desire to burn Snooki's book, as a book lover and free-spirit, I could never tell someone else what they have a right to read. Who knows, maybe someone could find it inspiring some day. That inspiration may or may not be to stay as far away from self-tanner as possible, but at least something can be gotten from it, right?

I remind myself of that every time I sell a copy of 50 Shades of Grey. Having not read it myself, I couldn't say for sure if it really is worthy of the loathing it gets from bibliophiles everywhere. That being said, I'm still not going to read it. But you can. Who knows, maybe it will inspire you to read something else next time. Actually, there's a lot of forbidden sex in 1984... maybe you'd like celebrate banned book week by picking up a copy of that as well?