Deciding on a cover for my book wasn’t easy. I’m sure it never is. It’s one of the many things that writers have to turn over to someone else after all the work and effort they’ve put into getting the book content just right. And the wrong cover can turn someone off before they read the first words inside the book.
When my publisher asked about my ideas for a cover, I expressed my concerns. The contents of the book are sometimes heavy—death, mental health issues, grief, loneliness, and more. But the book as a whole, I think, is very hopeful. How to express the breadth of the stories contained within while also keeping that bit of hopefulness was an early quandry.
And it’s not just about the widows. A few people have referred to the book as “genre-bending,” which isn’t too far off. In fact, a few publishers took a pass early on because they admitted they didn’t know where bookstores would shelve the book. Grief/self help? Music? Biography? Memoir? Again, the cover becomes important as it can convey the multi-faceted nature of the book.
When I polled a few of the widows about what they would like to see, a definite image emerged. They each liked the idea of a woman looking out at an empty stage. The man they loved, who had once been there, is now gone. But there’s light, too. Yes, maybe it’s just a stage light, or maybe it’s the light that we all ultimately travel toward, or maybe it’s the light of hope and life that eventually comes back to those of us who’ve gone through deep grief. Like the multiple genres this book mixes up, I’d like to think the light is all those things.
Thanks to artist Sally Rinehart for such a spot-on depiction of this vision. I hope it conveys all that is contained inside.
And bonus points to those who know where the book’s title comes from and its connection to the stories inside!
