C.K. Edwards's Blog, page 2
July 26, 2016
Bestselling book cover
I was doing a little reading on the Internet a few days ago and came across an interesting blog post or magazine article. Can't remember which.
The title said something like "How to Create a bestselling book cover."
I have to be honest, this threw me into a murderous rage. I even lost track of time for a while. Just came to myself an hour ago. Have no idea what I've been doing. Painting seems to have been part of it. Which is weird. I hate painting. And red is my least favorite color. Maybe I was helping a farmer winterize his barn. I don't know. I hope all that crimson comes out of my Pokemon Go t-shirt. Also weird, where did this vat of sodium hydroxide come from?
I've had a rant simmering in the back of my mind for a while, and here it goes: I don't think book covers serve a purpose so much as hack a weakness.
Something that "serves a purpose" in my mind is something that fills a need. Humans need good stories. Books can fill that need.
A book cover doesn't fill any need known to mankind. All a book cover does is entice people to spend. Good book, bad book, doesn't matter. A book cover has no say over the excellence or excrement it covers.
I'm as guilty as anyone else. When I was young I would buy pretty much anything with Frank Frazetta art on the front. I know what you 're thinking and no, my appreciation for Frank's take on sword and sorcery had nothing to do with skin and cleavage. Truth is, when I think back on those reads, a ton of those books sucked. But they had cool covers.
One thing I did right was identify a few authors that I loved and basically read everything attached to their pen. Edgar Rice Burroughs, Louis L'Amour, Phillip K. Dick, Orson Scott Card. Shakespeare. (okay, that one's B.S.) If they wrote it, I read it. Covers didn't matter for those authors.
We are all too enamored with the sell. All that glitters. All that gleams.
Not that this matters. Alien spaceships landed in a field behind me a few days ago. That pretty much signals the end of the world anyway. Can't believe I was smiling in the picture.
The title said something like "How to Create a bestselling book cover."
I have to be honest, this threw me into a murderous rage. I even lost track of time for a while. Just came to myself an hour ago. Have no idea what I've been doing. Painting seems to have been part of it. Which is weird. I hate painting. And red is my least favorite color. Maybe I was helping a farmer winterize his barn. I don't know. I hope all that crimson comes out of my Pokemon Go t-shirt. Also weird, where did this vat of sodium hydroxide come from?
I've had a rant simmering in the back of my mind for a while, and here it goes: I don't think book covers serve a purpose so much as hack a weakness.
Something that "serves a purpose" in my mind is something that fills a need. Humans need good stories. Books can fill that need.
A book cover doesn't fill any need known to mankind. All a book cover does is entice people to spend. Good book, bad book, doesn't matter. A book cover has no say over the excellence or excrement it covers.
I'm as guilty as anyone else. When I was young I would buy pretty much anything with Frank Frazetta art on the front. I know what you 're thinking and no, my appreciation for Frank's take on sword and sorcery had nothing to do with skin and cleavage. Truth is, when I think back on those reads, a ton of those books sucked. But they had cool covers.
One thing I did right was identify a few authors that I loved and basically read everything attached to their pen. Edgar Rice Burroughs, Louis L'Amour, Phillip K. Dick, Orson Scott Card. Shakespeare. (okay, that one's B.S.) If they wrote it, I read it. Covers didn't matter for those authors.
We are all too enamored with the sell. All that glitters. All that gleams.
Not that this matters. Alien spaceships landed in a field behind me a few days ago. That pretty much signals the end of the world anyway. Can't believe I was smiling in the picture.
Bestselling book covera
I was doing a little reading on the Internet a few days ago and came across an interesting blog post or magazine article. Can't remember which.
The title said something like "How to Create a bestselling book cover."
I have to be honest, this threw me into a murderous rage. I even lost track of time for a while. Just came to myself an hour ago. Have no idea what I've been doing. Painting seems to have been part of it. Which is weird. I hate painting. And red is my least favorite color. Maybe I was helping a farmer winterize his barn. I don't know. I hope all that crimson comes out of my Pokemon Go t-shirt. Also weird, where did this vat of sodium hydroxide come from?
I've had a rant simmering in the back of my mind for a while, and here it goes: I don't think book covers serve a purpose so much as hack a weakness.
Something that "serves a purpose" in my mind is something that fills a need. Humans need good stories. Books can fill that need.
A book cover doesn't fill any need known to mankind. All a book cover does is entice people to spend. Good book, bad book, doesn't matter. A book cover has no say over the excellence or excrement it covers.
I'm as guilty as anyone else. When I was young I would buy pretty much anything with Frank Frazetta art on the front. I know what you 're thinking and no, my appreciation for Frank's take on sword and sorcery had nothing to do with skin and cleavage. Truth is, when I think back on those reads, a ton of those books sucked. But they had cool covers.
One thing I did right was identify a few authors that I loved and basically read everything attached to their pen. Edgar Rice Burroughs, Louis L'Amour, Phillip K. Dick, Orson Scott Card. Shakespeare. (okay, that one's B.S.) If they wrote it, I read it. Covers didn't matter for those authors.
We are all too enamored with the sell. All that glitters. All that gleams.
Not that this matters. Alien spaceships landed in a field behind me a few days ago. That pretty much signals the end of the world anyway. Can't believe I was smiling in the picture.
The title said something like "How to Create a bestselling book cover."
I have to be honest, this threw me into a murderous rage. I even lost track of time for a while. Just came to myself an hour ago. Have no idea what I've been doing. Painting seems to have been part of it. Which is weird. I hate painting. And red is my least favorite color. Maybe I was helping a farmer winterize his barn. I don't know. I hope all that crimson comes out of my Pokemon Go t-shirt. Also weird, where did this vat of sodium hydroxide come from?
I've had a rant simmering in the back of my mind for a while, and here it goes: I don't think book covers serve a purpose so much as hack a weakness.
Something that "serves a purpose" in my mind is something that fills a need. Humans need good stories. Books can fill that need.
A book cover doesn't fill any need known to mankind. All a book cover does is entice people to spend. Good book, bad book, doesn't matter. A book cover has no say over the excellence or excrement it covers.
I'm as guilty as anyone else. When I was young I would buy pretty much anything with Frank Frazetta art on the front. I know what you 're thinking and no, my appreciation for Frank's take on sword and sorcery had nothing to do with skin and cleavage. Truth is, when I think back on those reads, a ton of those books sucked. But they had cool covers.
One thing I did right was identify a few authors that I loved and basically read everything attached to their pen. Edgar Rice Burroughs, Louis L'Amour, Phillip K. Dick, Orson Scott Card. Shakespeare. (okay, that one's B.S.) If they wrote it, I read it. Covers didn't matter for those authors.
We are all too enamored with the sell. All that glitters. All that gleams.
Not that this matters. Alien spaceships landed in a field behind me a few days ago. That pretty much signals the end of the world anyway. Can't believe I was smiling in the picture.
March 25, 2016
BvS opened yesterday
Went and saw Batman beat up Superman last night. Have to admit, the family was split, with me coming down on the plus side.
Coming down on the plus side really isn't hard for me these days. I've gained about 10 pounds since December. That coincides with me giving up desserts, candy, and sugar. Go figure.
I really don't understand the vehement critic hate spilling off Rotten Tomatoes. As I write this, Spoiled Fruit (or vegetable, depending on your view) has BvS at 29%. Now, I didn't think the movie was perfect, but 29% is south of turkey territory. 29% means - this movie sucks like Teen Witch only without good rap.
Can we kind of say that BvS is basically DC's second movie, with Man of Steel being the first? At least in the sense of this new age of movies that Marvel has created, starting with Iron Man. Follow that logic and Marvel's second movie was The Incredible Hulk, with Edward Norton. No home run there.
Or, you could say that DC's first entry into this arena was the amazing suckfest that was Green Lantern, which would then make BvS movie number three, and then you're comparing it to Marvel's Punisher: Ware Zone. Whoa, DC doesn't look so bad now, does it?
I think everybody is forgetting that Marvel has a big lead on DC, with almost 10 years firmly establishing their let's print money template. Iron man was great, but then we got the above-mentioned titles, then Iron Man 2, Thor, the first Captain America, and let's not forget - Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. None of those were great. For me, BvS is better than any of them. Back in 2012 right before Avengers came out, I remember thinking that I would give Marvel a couple more tries, but they were wearing out their welcome.
I think I'm going to be a critic and say that critics suck. Sometimes, at least. This week, the nation's critics, like a horde of shuffling zombies, jumped on a band wagon and got it wrong (yeah, I mixed the crap out of that metaphor). I hope people don't avoid the movie theaters as a result. They will miss:
Amy Adams in a bathtub where you as a viewer think, wait, can I see . . . no, hold it, is that her . . . no, I guess not.Ben Affleck also throws his hat into the ring of who is the best Batman, and the answer, when all is said and done, might be him.Gal Gadot, for all the pretentious alliteration in her name, has a stunning pair of . . . well, bracelets. You know, to deflect bullets and laser beams.
To be serious for a moment, this movie has made me think about it. And I'm not saying that is all positive. I've thought of plot holes I missed while in the theater, strange missteps that I still can't figure, but I am also liking it more right now than I did last night.
Critics. For shame! A pox on you! Not, you know, a pox that will kill you or anything. Just, maybe, something that will make it socially awkward to be in public this weekend. Yeah, that kind of pox.
Coming down on the plus side really isn't hard for me these days. I've gained about 10 pounds since December. That coincides with me giving up desserts, candy, and sugar. Go figure.I really don't understand the vehement critic hate spilling off Rotten Tomatoes. As I write this, Spoiled Fruit (or vegetable, depending on your view) has BvS at 29%. Now, I didn't think the movie was perfect, but 29% is south of turkey territory. 29% means - this movie sucks like Teen Witch only without good rap.
Can we kind of say that BvS is basically DC's second movie, with Man of Steel being the first? At least in the sense of this new age of movies that Marvel has created, starting with Iron Man. Follow that logic and Marvel's second movie was The Incredible Hulk, with Edward Norton. No home run there.
Or, you could say that DC's first entry into this arena was the amazing suckfest that was Green Lantern, which would then make BvS movie number three, and then you're comparing it to Marvel's Punisher: Ware Zone. Whoa, DC doesn't look so bad now, does it?
I think everybody is forgetting that Marvel has a big lead on DC, with almost 10 years firmly establishing their let's print money template. Iron man was great, but then we got the above-mentioned titles, then Iron Man 2, Thor, the first Captain America, and let's not forget - Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. None of those were great. For me, BvS is better than any of them. Back in 2012 right before Avengers came out, I remember thinking that I would give Marvel a couple more tries, but they were wearing out their welcome.
I think I'm going to be a critic and say that critics suck. Sometimes, at least. This week, the nation's critics, like a horde of shuffling zombies, jumped on a band wagon and got it wrong (yeah, I mixed the crap out of that metaphor). I hope people don't avoid the movie theaters as a result. They will miss:
Amy Adams in a bathtub where you as a viewer think, wait, can I see . . . no, hold it, is that her . . . no, I guess not.Ben Affleck also throws his hat into the ring of who is the best Batman, and the answer, when all is said and done, might be him.Gal Gadot, for all the pretentious alliteration in her name, has a stunning pair of . . . well, bracelets. You know, to deflect bullets and laser beams.
To be serious for a moment, this movie has made me think about it. And I'm not saying that is all positive. I've thought of plot holes I missed while in the theater, strange missteps that I still can't figure, but I am also liking it more right now than I did last night.
Critics. For shame! A pox on you! Not, you know, a pox that will kill you or anything. Just, maybe, something that will make it socially awkward to be in public this weekend. Yeah, that kind of pox.
March 11, 2016
Dream Ender 4
This is reading number 4 of Dream Ender.Wow, last week Vincent got embarrassed in front of a girl. This week he beats up a little kid. You know, I'd stop listening right now.
March 8, 2016
Shadow and Shade 14
This is reading number 14 of:Without Mother Without Father trilogy
The book Shadow and Shade
The Triple Crown sucks compared to the horse race in this reading.
March 3, 2016
Baltimore writing
Not sure what it is about writing in a hotel room, but put me next to a window and I can totally rite lotz ov wurds. Even in Baltimore.
February 29, 2016
Dream Ender 3
This is reading number 3 of Dream Ender.
Wow, last week Vincent got embarrassed in front of a girl. This week he beats up a little kid. You know, I'd stop listening right now.
Wow, last week Vincent got embarrassed in front of a girl. This week he beats up a little kid. You know, I'd stop listening right now.
February 25, 2016
Shadow and Shade 13
This is reading number 13 of:
Dorian and Velan see a play, though not the one Dorian wants to see. Cats was sold out.
Without Mother Without Father trilogy
The book Shadow and Shade
Dorian and Velan see a play, though not the one Dorian wants to see. Cats was sold out.
February 22, 2016
Dream Ender 2
This is reading number 2 of Dream Ender.In which Vincent attends an opera and gets embarrassed in front of a cute girl.
February 19, 2016
Work "fajita mix" into the next sentence
Driving home I might pass a restaurant with something painted in the window, something about "fajita mix," and that might get my mind to wondering what fajita mix is, and maybe something about those two words put together strikes my fancy, and I decide I'm going to throw the phrase "fajita mix" into the next sentence I write in my story when I get home.Just a fun, zany challenge, but it gets me wondering about what kind of writer I am. Maybe writing is just that, the next zany challenge, even though I dislike the word "zany." Writing is certainly an itch I have to scratch, but at the same time is it just a string of passing fancies? Do I search for truth in my words? Do others see truth in my words."
They just saw fajita mix, I'll tell you that.
