The Face of ODDity: Cover Reveal for Milksop

What’s in a Cover?

In my last post, I revealed that my debut novel, Milksop, will be published on May 23. I have it on good authority (my publisher and other published writers) that novels typically have a cover. When you think about it, is a cover really necessary? I mean, it’s all about the story, isn’t it? And aren’t we told never to judge a book by its cover? Why have one, then?

But I’m also told that the cover is something agents, editors, and especially marketing teams stress about. Pitched battles in the back rooms of publishing houses are fought over cover choices, usually settled by a game of blindfold darts or pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-cover. Experts explain it’s part art, part science, but mostly secret incantations.

So apparently, readers do judge a book by its cover. (I’ve heard that those who ban books generally make their decisions based on reading books that deeply.)

Then again, “cover” makes me think of “cover ups” (Epstein files, anyone?). Or face coverings (ICE agents—hiding their hollowness, as I suggested in an earlier post). I want nothing to do with such coverings!

Mind you, coverings can hide nakedness, and they can even do so stylishly, like with designer fig leaves. Maybe there’s some nakedness in my story that needs covering. Perhaps it’s just too revealing, not just about my characters but about me.

So, who am I to argue with publishing wisdom and tradition, me with my little debut novel? So without further ado, ta dah! Here is the cover for Milksop!

The Profound Symbolism of Milk

Because I was an English professor for 35 years, I can’t help but believe this simple but bold and bright cover is laden with deep symbolism—milky meaning, as it were. I’ll let you ponder that. Please share your interpretations as they come to you.

To get us started, let me share these milk factoids as they apply to Milksop:

The average Holstein cow weighs 1500 pounds; my main character, Evan Mulder, weighs about 125 on a good day, like when he’s soaking wet from a summer thunderstorm. Holstein = antagonist; Evan = protagonist. Fairly matched?

Cows have 4 stomachs (more accurately one stomach with 4 chambers); Evan has one stomach with a single chamber, a stomach that has been raised mostly on powdered milk and processed food.

Milking cows eat about 100 pounds of feed each day (hay, grain, etc.); a 125-pound weakling, Evan must serve them their meals.

A cow produces 7-9 gallons of milk per day (apparently 340-350 teat squirts per gallon): that’s about 120 glasses of milk. Evan, unfortunately, develops an aversion to the sight, smell, and taste of the stuff.

I’d love to hear your feedback on the cover—whether you find it engaging and attractive, what you think it suggests about the story itself (and perhaps about me, the author), what deep symbolism lies in the image (parodic interpretations welcome).

Remember, May 23 will be the great uncovering of Milksop.

As always, if the spirit moves you, please share your thoughts and this post. Happy reading!