This is in some ways a very commercial art. And it is regulated by genre. People expect each book in a genre to have similar covers. To the point that unique covers in the industry are the stand out instead of the standard.
When I started my journey with publishing, I was sure that I had to follow those rules. My original covers were very bland. As most poetry volumes have…
Then someone I respected quite a bit told me that the only thing wrong with my books was the covers didn’t match me. (next week on publishing demystified I will be talking about the covers and the tools I use to deal with them).
I think my covers have become more unique and I really enjoy the making of them. Here’s some of the ones I have made.
Now he’s thinkin’ ’bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso I can’t relate to desperation My ‘give a fucks’ are on vacation And I got this one boy And he won’t stop calling When they act this way I know I got ’em Too bad your ex don’t do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya Now he’s thinkin’ ’bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Is it that sweet? I guess so I’m working late ’cause I’m a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen Too bad your ex don’t do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya Now he’s thinkin’ ’bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso He’s thinkin’ ’bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know That’s that me, espresso Is it that sweet? I guess so That’s that me, espresso
My 2 cents –
The beat of this is contagious. I have been an insomniac for so long that I tend to be drawn to songs and art that feels like I am being seen.
So I spent a lot of time refusing to call myself an artist, mostly because I saw it as a station I could not reach. I struggled to find value in my creations when words were not involved. I feel like most artists feel like this.
I once told a therapist that my brother was the artist in the family because he got all the talent. I remember the smile she had. She said perhaps he did get the talent, but I had skills. Skills are developed by the constant use of the ability. I had never thought of it that way before.
I am at a point in my life now where I realize that labels matter, both the ones that we give each other and the ones we give ourselves. We will hear that we should not call ourselves artist and we take it to heart. We will call ourselves worthless and we will take it to heart.
Perhaps the best way to handle the problem is to ignore the label and follow your heart. If you want to create… Create.
I feel like I have been doing a lot of the I am overwhelmed posts for the Wednesday post. And I don’t want to do it for the third week.
So I decided that I will do a news drop instead.
Serena is writing again. The Sea Wytch is actually moving forward and I have hope that it will be done this year.
Fae corps publishing is in current negotiations with a narrator to be able to offer audio books.
We are also in negotiations for the possibility of offering another imprint under our team.
I am posting my poetry images on patreon. Any paid amount will allow you to see them. They will not be available anywhere else. I am trying to not post the same poem anywhere else as well. So unless you are a patron the only way to see those poems are to buy the books.
Not sure if I announced it here but I have a new intern for Fae corps who is running the fae corps publishing blog. They are taking a huge amount of work off my plate each week. That should help me with my overwhelmed life.
I have signed up for the half marathon on the poetry marathon. 12 poems in 12 hours. It’s June 15th.
I am sure there’s more news but I don’t know what else to say…. So I will try to remember it by next week.
So my boyfriend and I have different views on the song popular monster. I prefer the one by Falling in Reverse and he prefers Halocene’s version. This is really not a big thing. We have different views on songs that we both like and we just deal with the other persons view.
We were going to a appointment today and his vehicle so he gets to choose the music. He played popular monster and it was an ah ha moment for me. Halocene’s voice is the same register as I sing in my head… So I like the other one because I can enjoy the song. Halocenes version ends up being my inner voice.
There’s blood in the water And they’re coming to bring me down What’s hope with no savior Yeah, there’s no one in this ghost town She looked right through me And I turned to stone Medusa, Medusa, I’ve been here alone And I crumbled to pieces My body, my weakness is on the floor And the wind will blow and blow And I won’t be here no more My wishing well has run dry Stars are dying in the sky So I’ll shed my blood and tears I’ll show no fear just to survive She looked right through me And I turned to stone Oh Medusa, Medusa, I’ve been here alone Ahh, ahh Ahhhh She says, mortal one you’ve been chosen You’re beautiful, but you’re broken So hold on to this moment And fight until you’re hopeless There’s secrets and riddles That live in these walls There’s ghosts of past heroes And I hear them call my name We won’t be tamed Oh, she looked right through me And I turned to stone Medusa, Medusa, I’ve been here alone She looked right through me And I turned to stone Oh Medusa, Medusa, I’ve been here alone Ahh, ahh Ahhhh Ahh, ahh Ahhhh
My 2 cents –
I have always loved the myth of Medusa. I see the curse she was given as Athena’s way of giving her a way to defend herself. I read a poem recently and I loved it so much… But I didn’t save it so I am not sure who penned it. Or even if I am remembering it right. But it was about Medusa. It basically said that the reason why she was hated was because she made her trauma so loud that they made her body a battlefield. Gah I wish I had saved it now. It really was so lovely.
Edit : not sure if it is going to share properly but I found a reel of it. It is titled Aphroditie made me do it by Trista Mateer.
Pattimouse 