I went to McDonalds for lunch today. Not because I wanted to. But because my children did--funny thing that. It's like they don't care what I want. Weird, I know. Anyways, I took a big bite of my sandwich. To my dismay, no salty, greasy, absolutely delicious bacon. I pull off the bun. Nothing but lettuce. And some yucky brown lettuce too. Wait . . . *sniff, lick* Oh, that's the bacon. Though how they figure out how to slice it that thin, I'll never know.
What's the point of all this? Expectations. When I purchased a sandwich with bacon on it, I expected to TASTE the bacon. I didn't expect it to taste like a fillet minion. Or split-pea soup. McDonalds doesn't care so much about that--they just want to save money.
The same thing goes for you, my dear readers. You pick up a book with a picture of a smoking hot, shirtless man, and it better be a romance . . . not a nonfiction book on chest hair removal. (If you're wondering what in the heck is the point of this post, I told you I have a tendency to ramble at the beginning of the month. Hang in there, it's coming.)
The Point: Book Covers. I want mine to send the right message. I want a reader to walk into a bookstore, stop in their tracks, and walk trance-like to my book. "Dear reader," my book will say, "I'm a YA, epic fantasy about a girl haunted by the burden's placed upon her. Pick me up. Take me home. Read me and then tell all your friends."
Also, I promised I'd brag about everyone who blogged about my contest. Why? Because they obviously have such good taste in blog posts. So without further ado:
Thanks all of you for working so hard!