One of my winter projects has been the cover to the novel If I Go Quiet, from The Portland Murder series by MM Desch. This series is described as, "a collection of novels and novellas that weaves together intricate plots of psychological suspense and criminal investigation. Set primarily against the atmospheric backdrops of Portland, Oregon, and Durango, Colorado, the series delves into complex themes of corruption, betrayal, and the dark undercurrents of human relationships."
For this project, I was hired by, and worked directly with, the author to bring to life her vision of a third cover after Tangled Darkness...
and Lethal Loyalty...
...two covers that I didn't design but which we knew we should emulate—especially Tangled Darkness, as the story in If I Go Quiet follows the same protagonist, psychiatrist Leslie Schoen, as she goes undercover to investigate a murder at a remote wellness retreat, where the treatment is not necessarily wellness...
Working with Mary (known to her readers as MM Desch) has been great, because she's very savvy and knows what she wants but is open to experimentation. Her first idea was of a small, cramped room where a boy is being kept against his will. She gave me specific information: dim lighting coming from LED strips, a thin mattress against the wall where the boy lies. I started to do image searches, but it was difficult to find what I wanted. Particularly the right kind of small, cramped room. When I went back to ask some clarifying questions about the space, she said:
"I've been thinking about another idea for the book cover, Gigi. What do you think about — A ceramic urn sitting on a stone bench with steam rising, the vapor forming a barely-visible skull shape. — the background is ... Fog threading through Douglas firs at dusk, a single lit window visible deep in the trees."I went back to my image search, this time looking for different things, the foggy firs, the urn, the stone bench. I left the prospect of creating a skull out of steam for later. I didn't know how I was going to do that. I do like doing things that I don’t know how to do. That's part of why I enjoy cover design, to be honest. But yeah, I wasn’t exactly sure how to make it happen and how to make it look good.
So I started with the forest. I found an image I really liked on Pexels. I loved the slant of the trees, and the layers.
I was surprised how difficult it was to find an urn. Or. One thing you find out about urns when you start looking for pictures of urns is that urns can be kind of any type of vessel. Containers for ashes, ornamental vases, receptacles for brewing or serving coffee or tea. Lots of things are called urns, and a whole range comes up when you do an image search with that word. I asked Mary what specific type of urn she wanted and she sent me a couple examples.
But I made a document with the better urns I'd found, which I sent to Mary to look through. In there, I did some cutting and pasting of a few of the pictures to show her how I could, if I spent some time in Photoshop, make the images look more urnlike.
Happily, she liked some of what I had and chose two favorites. I took to Photoshop to turn the image on the left to the image on the right.
And to turn the image on the left to the image on the right.
For the type treatment, I stuck close to Tangled Darkness. It was fun to experiment with different colored backgrounds and text and dark overlays. I sent Mary some samples.
I don't remember why I started with the one urn, but when Mary came back with feedback, she said she'd like me to try using the second urn, because she liked the texture and the wider lip. She also said she was rethinking the skull. That it might be looking too Halloweeny.
I liked that take and went back in to simplify my skull into a simple wisp of steam. At the same time, Mary was working on writing a tagline, so when I updated my layout, I added a line of text to hold space for that.
More experimenting with color.
I sent more samples. Meanwhile, Mary had finalized her tagline and sent that my way. And she asked for more steam coming from the urn.
And finally I hit my stride in the steam department. With more work with the smudge and eraser tools and layering different snippets on top of each other, I was able to take my steam from skull to wisp to something I was suddenly really excited about.
And with my new steam and Mary's new tagline, and as we narrowed down what we liked best, we finally landed on our cover.
More info on If I Go Quiet and all of Mary's books can be found on the author's website here. And here's a taste from the opening of the book:
Leslie Schoen’s finger traced a line on the toxicology report. Fentanyl, 60 ng/mL. Enough to stop a heart in seconds. She flipped the page, avoiding the smiling graduation photo of the dental hygienist. Twenty-three. No chance for naloxone. No chance.
Across the kitchen table, Izzy Turner shook a bottle of prenatal vitamins, the pills rattling like dice in a cup. Golden afternoon light slanted through the window, catching the amber plastic and illuminating the scattered medical documents with a honey-colored beam.
An early May morning left dampness on their outside patio. The wisteria leaves draping their pergola dripped occasionally. Only in Portland, Oregon, could a rainy start to the day make spring even more vibrant. Azaleas in red, salmon, and purple sparkled at the rear of their backyard, in contrast with the warm burnt orange and cream accents of their kitchen.
“Iron makes me queasy in the afternoons now.” Izzy set the bottle aside and reached for the DHA supplements. “Baby’s getting particular about timing.”
Leslie glanced up from the autopsy photos. Izzy’s face existed in a different universe from the stark black-and-white. Her wavy, blonde hair tumbled to her shoulders, framing the creaminess of her face. Warmth radiated from her skin—a brightness that defied the exhaustion pulling at the corners of her eyes. Leslie had once dismissed the “pregnancy glow” as a cliché, but there it glowed, luminous in the afternoon light.
“Try taking them with dinner instead. The protein might help.”
“Already tried that.” Izzy sorted the bottles by size, creating neat rows on the placemat. “This one’s opinionated about everything. Just like their mother.”
The front door burst open, hitting the wall hard enough to rattle the framed botanical prints in the hallway.
“Izzy! Leslie!” Brad’s voice carried an edge that froze Leslie’s hand over the case file. Her father-in-law never barged into their Grant Park neighborhood home—until now.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, touching the frame three times—index finger, palm, thumb—his unconscious ritual when stressed. Gray hair stuck up at odd angles—evidence of anxious hands raking through it. His leather jacket hung open, shirt untucked on one side.
“William’s missing.”
Izzy’s hand slipped. The vitamin bottle clattered to the floor, pills scattering across the hardwood.
“What are you talking about?” She gripped the table edge, knuckles white.
“Four days. His girlfriend called me a couple hours ago. He told her he planned to attend some wellness center for the weekend, left Thursday night. Haven’t heard from him since.”
Typical William. The thought arrived before Leslie could stop it, sharp and automatic. Always disappearing, always—
She caught herself mid-judgment, guilt twisting in her chest. Her brother-in-law wasn’t some case file to categorize and dismiss. He belonged to her family. Their unborn child’s uncle.
“Did she try calling there?” Leslie bent to gather the spilled vitamins, needing something to do with her hands.
“That’s the thing.” Brad paced to the window above the sink, back to the table. “Place called Ascension Grove, up in the West Hills. They claim he checked out Friday morning. Said he seemed fine, mentioned heading to the coast.”
“But he didn’t go there?” Izzy’s voice stayed level. Her hand moved to her belly, fingers splayed protectively.
“His car’s still in their parking lot. I alerted them anyway. Claimed they never noticed.”
No comments:
Post a Comment