Susan Thatcher's Blog, page 17
October 27, 2013
I Need Help Promoting My Next Book
November 8,2013 is scheduled to be the date of the cover reveal for “At Last.” I’m planning a cover reveal “blitz” (Well, truth: Author Deliza Rafferty is the guiding spirit in marketing here. She knows a thing or two) and I need people to volunteer to post to their Facebook pages and other social media sites. This is how it’s done when you’re not working with a traditional publishing house and a marketing budget. You get your friends and their friends to help spread the word. My “pie in the sky” goal is for Liz Gardner and Ty Hadley to be more successful than the sparkly vampires and/or kinky billionaires. I need YOUR help.
So, if you’d like to help out, follow the link:
Sign yourself up, see if you can recruit a few folks and have them recruit folks.
Also, still offering “These Foolish Things” free to breast cancer survivors during the month of October.
October 24, 2013
"At Last" coming December 1
1459
Facebook author page. Go like it. Go. Go.
“Well, this afternoon promises to be a good time,” Liz commented as she rinsed her hair.
“Why’s that, Babe?” Ty asked over the hiss of the shower.
“OB-GYN visit and mammogram, so much fun. ‘Mrs. Hadley, good to see you. We’ve devised some new tortures to visit upon your body in the name of practicing medicine, beginning with a nicely chilled speculum and ending with the pressurized fun of a mammogram. Welcome to your mid 40s, Elizabeth,’” Liz answered. “‘By the way, did we remember to recommend that you have a colonoscopy, too? Just a thought.’”
She heard Ty chuckling.
“You make sure that prostate stays in good working order, Ty. I’m not done with it yet.”
“You got it,” he said laughing.
Liz raised her left arm over her head and began making firm circles on the skin of her left breast with her right hand, feeling for irregularities underneath. “Okay, so far, so good.”
“What’s that?” Ty asked.
“Breast self-exam,” Liz answered. “Every month, like clockwork, haven’t missed in 9 years.” She put her right arm over her head and repeated the procedure on the right breast.
“Want me to do it for you?” Ty asked. “Be no trouble at all.”
Liz laughed, “Thanks for the offer, but it’s not really all…that…ero…tic…” The circling stopped and she returned to the spot and felt again.No, she hadn’t imagined it. “No. Oh, God.”
The shower curtain snapped aside.
“What just happened?” Ty’s eyes were fixed on her hand. He reached out to touch, imitating Liz’s hand and circling, pressing her wet flesh. “You found something?” Liz heard the fear in his voice.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, “Could be my imagination. Could be a cyst.”
“Could be cancer,” Ty finished hoarsely. He yanked a towel off the rack and wrapped Liz in it, sarong-style, then pulled her close. They stood there for a minute, Liz holding as tightly to Ty as he held her. He was only wearing a towel around his waist and Liz needed the intimate contact of skin to skin.
“God damn it,” she heard Ty growl, “God damn it.” She could feel the anger in him beginning to build.
Liz put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. She slid her hand up to Ty’s face and looked into his eyes.
Quietly, she said, “Look. This may be nothing, okay? Let’s stay calm until we know for sure.” She brought Ty’s face down for a kiss that took on more urgency the longer it lasted.
Ty broke off first. “I love you, Liz. I don’t want to think about losing you.” He kissed her forehead and left his lips pressed to it. “Ever.”
He kissed her again. “That’s it. I’m coming to the doctor with you.”
Liz buried her face in his shoulder, smiling. “No, Counselor. I can handle this. Besides, if there is a lump, the doctor will refer me to someone else for a biopsy and that will take a few days to schedule, so you’d be terrorizing the doctor today for no good reason. Take it out on opposing counsel instead, okay?” She kissed Ty again, deeply. “I love you.”
“I love you, Liz,” Ty said. “Sure you’re okay with doing this by yourself?”
“Done it before, remember? I know the drill.” Liz felt him relax slightly.
Luckily, Liz thought, she’d done pretty good job of hiding her own terror.
COMING DECEMBER 1, 2013
October 23, 2013
“At Last” – available December 1
I had a contest to promote my upcoming book, At Last, looking for my Facebook author page. If I got to 100 likes, I would release an excerpt. Well, wouldn’t you know, the little rascals pulled it off. 106 likes.
Facebook author page. Go like it. Go. Go.
“Well, this afternoon promises to be a good time,” Liz commented as she rinsed her hair.
“Why’s that, Babe?” Ty asked over the hiss of the shower.
“OB-GYN visit and mammogram, so much fun. ‘Mrs. Hadley, good to see you. We’ve devised some new tortures to visit upon your body in the name of practicing medicine, beginning with a nicely chilled speculum and ending with the pressurized fun of a mammogram. Welcome to your mid 40s, Elizabeth,’” Liz answered. “‘By the way, did we remember to recommend that you have a colonoscopy, too? Just a thought.’”
She heard Ty chuckling.
“You make sure that prostate stays in good working order, Ty. I’m not done with it yet.”
“You got it,” he said laughing.
Liz raised her left arm over her head and began making firm circles on the skin of her left breast with her right hand, feeling for irregularities underneath. “Okay, so far, so good.”
“What’s that?” Ty asked.
“Breast self-exam,” Liz answered. “Every month, like clockwork, haven’t missed in 9 years.” She put her right arm over her head and repeated the procedure on the right breast.
“Want me to do it for you?” Ty asked. “Be no trouble at all.”
Liz laughed, “Thanks for the offer, but it’s not really all…that…ero…tic…” The circling stopped and she returned to the spot and felt again.No, she hadn’t imagined it. “No. Oh, God.”
The shower curtain snapped aside.
“What just happened?” Ty’s eyes were fixed on her hand. He reached out to touch, imitating Liz’s hand and circling, pressing her wet flesh. “You found something?” Liz heard the fear in his voice.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, “Could be my imagination. Could be a cyst.”
“Could be cancer,” Ty finished hoarsely. He yanked a towel off the rack and wrapped Liz in it, sarong-style, then pulled her close. They stood there for a minute, Liz holding as tightly to Ty as he held her. He was only wearing a towel around his waist and Liz needed the intimate contact of skin to skin.
“God damn it,” she heard Ty growl, “God damn it.” She could feel the anger in him beginning to build.
Liz put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. She slid her hand up to Ty’s face and looked into his eyes.
Quietly, she said, “Look. This may be nothing, okay? Let’s stay calm until we know for sure.” She brought Ty’s face down for a kiss that took on more urgency the longer it lasted.
Ty broke off first. “I love you, Liz. I don’t want to think about losing you.” He kissed her forehead and left his lips pressed to it. “Ever.”
He kissed her again. “That’s it. I’m coming to the doctor with you.”
Liz buried her face in his shoulder, smiling. “No, Counselor. I can handle this. Besides, if there is a lump, the doctor will refer me to someone else for a biopsy and that will take a few days to schedule, so you’d be terrorizing the doctor today for no good reason. Take it out on opposing counsel instead, okay?” She kissed Ty again, deeply. “I love you.”
“I love you, Liz,” Ty said. “Sure you’re okay with doing this by yourself?”
“Done it before, remember? I know the drill.” Liz felt him relax slightly.
Luckily, Liz thought, she’d done pretty good job of hiding her own terror.
COMING DECEMBER 1, 2013
October 21, 2013
Spell Check Is Not Your Friend
First things first: Reiterating last week’s blog post, I am offering FREE, SIGNED copies of These Foolish Things to breast cancer survivors. I have walked in Boston’s Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event several times. I lost my best friend to complications of this foul thief. It is my great pleasure to strike back. If you know someone, share this post.
I am a writer (although with something in print, I can now say “I am an author.” Writer’s Digest had some article about the difference between being a “writer” and an “author” and made the distinction that of being published). I am trained as an English (Language Arts) teacher. I have a mastery of my native language, both spoken and written (typing is another story). I read a lot of books, articles, and Facebook posts. The errors in spelling and usage by people who SHOULD know better make me wonder if humans are heading back to grunts and gestures as the sole means of communication. Why should they know better? Because this is FOURTH GRADE Language Arts, people.
And, some of all y’all are PROFESSIONAL PUBLISHED AUTHORS.
ARGHHHH!!!!!
WHAT I SEE is that people sitting down to a word processing program to write rely on the Spell Check feature to catch any and all errors; therefore, they don’t need to know the words. Spell Check is my Homeboy. Same kind of thinking with not learning basic math functions like addition, subtraction, long division, and multiplication because calculators are so cheap and plentiful. (I still break out in fraction-induced cold sweats)
Bad thinking, Folks, bad thinking.
Yes, Spell Check knows how to spell a boat load of words. HOWEVER, Spell Check does not know context. Spell Check knows how to spell all the different homonyms (words that sound alike but have different spellings and meanings), but it isn’t smart enough to detect when you’re using the wrong one. We are all in trouble when it does because that means that Skynet has become aware and we will have Arnold Schwarzenegger suddenly show up looking for Sarah Connor. Buck naked isn’t his best look right now.
See?
Of course, the reliance and prevalence of Spell Check doesn’t explain so many people who cannot or do not spell “definitely” or “separate” correctly. IT’S EVEN IN YOUR FACEBOOK STATUS UPDATES FER CRYIN’ OUT LOUD!!! One of my sisters, for instance, throws that “a” into “definite” or “definitely” and when it was pointed out to her, couldn’t give a shit and in fact bitched about getting corrected.
Ohhhh-kaaay.
Anyway, you as the human in front of the word processing program have the responsibility of knowing what is right. In fact, you should have learned this in middle school, if not earlier.
I’m not kidding: for basics in Math, Language Arts, Civics, and Science, this is a worthwhile investment. Spongebob and My Little Pony may be entertaining, but this is entertaining and contains essential knowledge.
I’m going to focus on three homonym groups that are the most abused.
This group is Numero Uno, especially the use of the possessive pronoun “their” when the writer intends “they’re” (contraction of “they are”). I cringe. I really do. I reiterate: if you have spelled “their” correctly, Spell Check is not going to pick up the error because Spell Check is not programmed for CONTEXT. I’m sorry, but you have to step up on these and just learn the correct words/usage. There’s no way around it. See the grumpy man up there (correct usage)? Learn from him.
It seems like the one rule from basic Language Arts that everyone remembers is that you use an apostrophe to show possession. That’s fine, but it leads to confusion when you are dealing with pronouns. Apostrophes are an element in contractions (I’m, they’re, aren’t, isn’t, wouldn’t, ain’t). Possessive pronouns don’t have apostrophes. My, your, their, our.
Your. The possessive pronoun. Your book, your blog, your egregious writing errors.
Contractions are a shortening of two words (or labor pains that make the mother-to-be wish the time was shorter). “They are” turns into “they’re” (replacing the a with the apostrophe). “I am” becomes “I’m.” These are not possessive pronouns. They are contracted verbs. They denote action (or a state of being). So, the sentence “Your going to have fun” (and I’d like to note that Spell Check didn’t underline the “your”) SHOULD be “You’re (You are) going to have fun.”
You’re going to have to learn the difference to improve your writing.
For once, it’s not pronouns and contractions getting the abuse
To – preposition. What’s a preposition:
prep·o·si·tion
?prep??ziSH?n/
noun
GRAMMAR
a word governing, and usually preceding, a noun or pronoun and expressing a relation to another word or element in the clause, as in “the man on the platform,” “she arrived after dinner,” “what did you do it for ?”
Too – means either “also” or “excessive.” “She’s (contraction, not a possessive pronoun) covering this, too? That’s too much!”
Finally, “two”
It’s a number, pure and simple. After one and before three.
And watch yourselves: there may be a quiz.
October 17, 2013
In Honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month – An offer to survivors
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m late to the game. Sue me. Wait! I already am Sue! Ha!)
If you are a breast cancer survivor or know a survivor or have lost someone to this disease (I have), I have an offer for you to mark 2013 Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
In past years, I would complete the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer course in Boston (it was a trip around the Charles starting and finishing at the Hatch Memorial Shell on the Esplanade. Also the site of some of my deeper sunburns). By walking and getting pledges, I have raised nearly $5,000 for the Boston chapter of the American Cancer Society and I aim to do so again.
Yeah, I’m the big blob on the far left.
In the meantime, if you are a survivor, know a survivor who might like the book or have lost someone to this disease, if you contact me, I will send you a signed copy (Sorry, I’m going to limit this offer to the US for now. I’m paying for the postage. UK? Canada? You’ll get your chance when I sell more books. Except for Tiff. She’ll get a signed copy).
Link to These Foolish Things on Amazon
This is a $12.75 value being offered for free (while supplies last). The book is well-received and there is a sequel to be released shortly and a prequel in the works. People are already casting an imaginary movie (Could happen).
So, to honor Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I will send a signed copy of my book “These Foolish Things” (not the Deborah Moggach book. You’ll have to talk to her) to breast cancer survivors and those who have lost loved ones to this disease.
And for those of you who have bought the book? Thank you for your support.
October 16, 2013
It takes 5
I get compliments on my writing. I try not to get a swelled head over it, but since I work hard to get the writing right, it’s nice to know I’m on the right track. I have published my first novel (available for sale on Amazon and we’re working on getting a Paypal button installed so you can buy signed copies directly from me). I get “how did you do it?” questions. I get “where should I begin?” questions. I also get “So what do you think is good writing?” questions. I’m going to use my blog here to answer that last question over the next few posts.
I got the idea for this post as I was listening to today’s (It’s Tuesday 10/15/2013) Red Sox/Tigers game on the radio. Well, listening to the WEEI feed through my computer while watching the game on TV with the sound muted. If you know me, you know who my teams are, what the epithets are for the teams I don’t like, and that I think Joe Buck and Tim McCarver would best serve baseball by covering water polo. From underwater. Without air tanks. My sound feed was Joe Castiglione and Dave O’Brien, the Red Sox audio team. It occurred to me that Dave and Joe (and the legendary Vin Scully of the Dodgers) make the game come alive for their listeners.
I have a law degree, but before I went to law school, I got a Bachelor of Science in Education from UVM (Universatis Veridis Montis (University of the Green Mountains, to be correct) better known as the University of Vermont or “Groovy UV” back in the day:
Mr. Charlie Catamount
Le vrai Charlie Catamount
Yup, we were the nation’s top party school for a bunch of years, now we are “public ivy.”
“Rally Cat”? How the hell did that happen?
Well, I graduated from the College of Education and Social Services in 1983. Now that my parents are gone, I can confess: I BARELY graduated. I almost didn’t have enough credits in a required teaching minor. Fortunately, the Assistant Dean, Art Cheney, liked me (his son Stuart and I used to commute to Shelburne Middle School together for student teaching. We had fun. We formed the Student Teachers Drinking Club with Stu’s roommate, Rick Cooley, his girlfriend, Lindsay Butler, and Kelly Woods, WHO, it turns out, went to kindergarten with me back in Brattleboro, VT. Small state, small world). Between my History and Political Science work at UVM and some of the courses I took during a semester in Australia, CESS essentially “knitted” enough credits into a Social Studies teaching minor with the caveat “don’t try to get certified as a Social Studies teacher.” I didn’t. There was such a glut of teachers when I graduated that I couldn’t even get a regular teaching gig, just substituting. I ended up going to work in the financial services industry. There are people who are just BUGGED out of their minds that I have had licenses for professions that I’ve never used. Get your own or shut up.
But I digress.
As part of my student teaching (which was fun until the little buggers broke my wrist), I had to create a curriculum and teach. I shamelessly ripped off some of the exercises from my English teachers at Proctor High School. If you’re going to steal, make sure it’s quality material.
That’s a long way around to get to this point: part of good writing is being able to describe something with enough detail that your reader experiences it.
Human beings take in approximately 80% of their information visually. Especially when vegging out in front of the TV set. The eyes do most of the work, it’s true, but there are other senses and sense organs that provide info:
Ears/Hearing
Tongue/Taste. If you were a butterfly, you would taste things with your feet.
Nose/Smell. That’s Jimmy Durante’s nose. Too young to know Durante? How many times have you watched the “Frosty the Snowman” cartoon at Christmas? Yeah, he’s the narrator.
And finally…
Hands/Touch. Actually, any part of your skin can give you information about texture and temperature.
I had my kids pick a color. Then, they were to describe that color in terms of the five senses.
Try it: Get a pad and pen (we will get to my diatribe against Spell Check later on)
Pick a color. Any color.
Now, make five columns on the paper and put the name of a sense at the top of each column.
Now, under each column, write down how that color hits your senses. What does purple sound like (Say Prince and lose points for being unimaginative)? What does white taste like? Is it a simple single note taste, like vanilla or is it more complex like…lasagna? Does orange feel like your favorite sweatshirt? “Wishing You Were Here” by Chicago sounds blue to me.
Make your lists and submit them in the comments. I really want to know what you guys do.
October 13, 2013
With a Little Help From My Friends, Part III
First things first: These Foolish Things was reviewed by author Deliza Rafferty and she gave it four and a half out of five smooches. Link here:
She nominated Laura Linney to play Liz. I never considered Ms. Linney, but you know what? Deliza’s right.
Thank you, Deliza!
However, in the third and concluding part of our ongoing trilogy, “With a Little Help From My Friends,” we come to the last (current) contributor to These Foolish Things.
In case you’re wondering, I’m Ringo. Legalogos, Susan Drover and our next “guest” make me look good. In his case, literally:
No, no. That is me. For real. Untouched.
I have gotten more compliments on that picture than any other picture ever taken of me. Every person who has seen it has remarked on it being a great picture. Every. Person. (Exhibit A, the cat, is unimpressed. Nothing impresses a cat)
Christopher Gregson took that photo.
The author photo, unless someone’s writing under a pseudonym, is a powerful marketing tool. It may have little or nothing to do with the actual content of the book, but people can decide whether or not to buy/read based on whether or not they like the photo. This is something you really want to get right. I’ve paid for headshots before this and it turned into something stressful and more about what the photographer wanted rather than what I wanted, even though I was the paying customer. Not with Chris. He understood and he executed.
This is Chris:
And Marie, his lovely wife. October 20,2012. They are both lucky people.
I have a small stack of Chris’s business cards in front of me and he bills himself as “Writer/Filmmaker.” Doesn’t have “photographer” on there, but well, clearly, the guy’s got a knack, you know? Look at this one:
Okay, yeah, same session, same subject, blah, blah, blah, but understand this: I generally HATE pictures of me (unless I’m hiding in a costume at one of the Gregsons’ Halloween or Oscar parties). I LOVE what Chris did for me (and Marie. She is his assistant and this was a FUN session).
Full disclosure: These ARE my friends, but my friends have marketable skills in various fields. Call it destiny, Law of Attraction (I brought them into my life), serendipity, whatever that brought them and their considerable skills into my orbit when I needed them. They are there. I pay them for their services and the results (marketing, graphic design, editing, and photography) are fabulous.
Chris is a working videographer/director. He has directed a great music video for singer Darci Monet:
“Go On” Darci Monet (feat. Debby Holiday and Levi Kris)
Disclosure: I’m in the background somewhere in the group shots. Eh, I’m not a singer
He also directs a wonderful cooking video series title “Dish It Out” with Tony Rocco Spatafora.
Spats has guests come in like Charlene Tilton, French Stewart, and Sheena Metal (Queen of LA Talk Radio) and they cook, they gab, they have fun on camera. From what I hear, those sessions are fun, too.
I can’t tell you how lucky I feel.
If you are in the Los Angeles area and want to talk to Chris about his services, he can be reached at youtube.com/gregsonfilm.
And Chris? Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou
October 10, 2013
With a Little Help From My Friends, Part II
Again, the spam comments keep offering me Jets/Giants/Ravens jerseys and penis enlargement. All equally useful to me.
I don’t know for sure if this picture inspired an artist to draw her own version of a Beatles cartoon. I like to think so. I like to think I’m influential.
And the audio/visual version
With A Little Help from My Friends
I have told you about the design/marketing team I use to try to grab reader attention. There are more team members who deserve recognition.
In traditional publishing, if a house accepts your offering for publication, you will be assigned to an editor. Michael Korda, who edited Harold Robbins and Jacqueline Susann (I’ve read her “Every Night, Josephine.” His stuff? Not interested) has told tales of dealing with these parties; Robbins, he had to lock up in a Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow and give him a daily page quota to get the man to produce (who, according to Korda, changed the name of a character halfway through a book and refused to make corrections saying, “The readers will never notice the difference.” He was right, according to Korda). Susann would use different colored paper for each draft and then make corrections in eyebrow pencil. There were the days before word processing, Kids.
One of the aspects of self-publishing that gets overlooked and absolutely, positively SHOULD NOT is editing. You need a pair of eyes that are not yours to proofread at the very least, to make sure that you’re making sense (because sucking down 10 Red Bulls and staying up til 4 AM isn’t conducive to lucidity, even if you are typing 90 miles an hour) and that your work is GOOD. Marketably good. Worthy of someone handing over their hard-earned dollars (euros, loonies, drachmas, rupees, etc.) good.
Bottom line: YOU FUCKING NEED AN EDITOR, EINSTEIN. Even Donald Trump has an editor. A REPUTABLE one. When it comes to indie publishing, there are a shit ton of people who will try to part you from your money and sadly, they don’t have to try very hard. DO YOUR RESEARCH. Find out whether your candidate knows the difference between their, they’re, and there, what is an Oxford comma, when to use a semi-colon, or how to structure a damned sentence. I have PAID for books with errors in them so mind-boggling, I can’t believe someone got paid to create them and worse, SOMEONE ELSE GOT PAID TO LET THE FUCKER GO THROUGH.
I trust my editor. She has never had to lock me in a Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow (but I’d welcome it) and, nor has she had to try to read edits in eyebrow pencil (I am not making this shit up, I swear). I am an easy-going client. In fact, she’s heard, “Get off the damned horse! I need chapters back!” at least a couple of times.
Sue Drover and preferred partner in crime, Marina.
Susan Drover, my editor, and I met when we were undergrads at UVM (University of Vermont) back in the early 1980s. I met her and Meredith Major Jeff (her horse) through a mutual friend at the UVM Horse Club. (She could tickle his nose and make him smile). We found ourselves in a couple of the same English classes (including sneaking out on mandatory movies in at least one of them. Sorry, late Paul Scofield, but your film version of “King Lear” was kinda gross). Sneaking out meant going back to her dorm room to put feet up on a lobster crate coffee table and listen to Jimmy Buffett (Je suis Parrothead and I happily passed it on to many, many people). I left school for a semester to try out January to June in Australia (It rocks, especially if you hate winter. I hate winter). Sue decided to pursue a Creative Writing degree (something UVM didn’t offer) at Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, FL (Home of the Tampa Bay Rays aka the Tampa Bay D Bags. You want to suck up to me? Know which sports teams I despise and what epithets I use for them).
(Understand that the above advice about getting an editor came about through hard experience. I’d show you my scars, but I’m not about to drop trou and show anyone my butt. Unless George Clooney wants to see it. And then I’d blindfold him).
After years of frustration, I decided that the smart course was to get an editor and have another thrash at the material to make sure I hadn’t screwed it up. I’d also revised it a couple of times, so making sure things still made sense was a good idea.
Who better to turn to than a) someone I knew and someone I exchange WRITTEN communications with on a near-daily basis (Written is important. Why? Because you can’t see how well someone spells when he/she speaks, that’s why), b) someone I could trust to be perfectly, brutally honest with me as necessary (if you can’t take constructive criticism, or even non-constructive criticism, this is NOT your field. Opinions are like assholes: everybody has one and some people are one), and c) someone who would WANT the assignment.
My faith in Sue has paid off: one of the compliments I relish is “This is well-written” and honestly, if I hadn’t had her edit the material, I can’t be sure I’d be hearing that. Whereas an author might be inclined towards self-indulgence, a good editor will pull the reins on that nonsense and bring things back on track .
Sue has gone on to be an ongoing contributor to Horse & Driver magazine :
http://issuu.com/horseanddriver/docs/fall2013_final
Her article is on Page 20, “The Inspiring NoMoe”
She’s also now available for freelance assignments. If you INSIST on poaching MY editor (a plague on your house), she is available for consult at srdrover@gmail.com.
And Sue? Thank you so much for everything. (By the way, if you read this post on its original release date of 10/10/13 and just re-read it, you may have noticed some subtle differences. Yeah. Sue edited it).
October 6, 2013
With a Little Help From My Friends, Part I
First of all, side note: most of the spam comments I delete are offering me NFL jerseys from the Colts and the Giants. Really. Those are about as useful to me as the ads for penis enlargement.
And yes, I have invoked the Beatles. They are sacred. All of them.
If you know me and you’ve seen my first book (emphasis on FIRST), you’ve seen this:
I have gotten a lot of compliments on this book cover, but truthfully, the only credit I can take for its creation is going with Legalogos, Inc. and their graphic design genius, Tom Roskelly. He designed it.
I had had another idea in mind, sort of a collage/still life a la Audrey Flack’s photo-realism work.
However, when I approached Diane Chubb at Legalogos about this, she had a better idea: let us design something.
And why not? Their graphic designer has won a boatload of awards.
He’s come up with great, simple, focused designs like this:
A Fibonacci seahorse.
Or this:
A tribute to a lady who loved her flip flops.
Since a rose plays a part in my story (I think of Liz Gardner as an Iron Rose), Legalogos decided it should be the symbol of These Foolish Things.
They were right.
Presently, they’re at work designing the cover art for the TFT sequel At Last.
Should you have a cover art project or other need for design/trademark/logo work:
You can see more of their stellar designs and get an idea of why it’s a great idea to have this team on your side.
September 19, 2013
THIS BLOG HAS MOVED
I am woefully ignorant about things like websites, so I hire professionals.
THIS BLOG IS NOW AT http://www.susanthatcher.com
So, Followers, if you’ll be so kind please follow me (see what I did there?) over to http://www.susanthatcher.com
