I had a dickens of a time with the cover of Righteous Blood.
For some reason, I resisted doing what I’d done on previous occasions: go on-line, to a site like RedBubble (or some place similar), tap in “dark fantasy art” as my search term and see what came up.
For So Dark the Night I must have looked through over a thousand images. Easily.
Not only was the effort of actually finding art to match the mood and message of Righteous Blood daunting, if I did manage to identify an illo that appealed to me I’d have to locate the artist (not always easy), secure their permission to use their art for a reasonable fee (ditto) and then, y’know, come up with the money for the transaction.
Earlier this spring I needed a break from writing, retreated to my basement dungeon where I like to paint and shoot my strange, short films, and slopped away happily on a couple of canvases. Both pieces turned out well, but my favourite was inspired by apocalyptic thinking: global warming, the massive wild fires that have raged around the world due to drought conditions and human tampering. I titled it “Red Skies” and quickly recognized how it might be the answer to my cover art woes.
Mark Rothko was definitely an influence, wouldn’t you say?
I sent a Jpg of “Red Skies” to Black Dog Press’s longtime cover designer Chris Kent last week, told him to use it as source material but not feel slavishly bound to the original. We had to be careful with other people’s artistic efforts but I wanted to give him permission to play with the image to his heart’s content.
Chris is a full-time teacher, a husband and father, an athlete constantly in training…but he also has an artistic side that he loves to indulge, a passion for design and art that’s very much a holdover from childhood.
Over the next few days, he tinkered with my painting, spitballing me a few initial notions like this one:
But I got a sense these first salvos were sort of tentative, Chris not sure how much license he had to tamper with my work.
But then, with his next flash of inspiration, he abandoned all fealty to the original and just fucking went for it. I opened up the file he sent, sat back and gaped at the shattered, fractured version of “Red Skies” that now graced the cover.
And went absolutely mental over it.
Sent him a few minor suggestions, nothing of any great import, he went away did some more polishing and then delivered the final version. His masterpiece.
What do you think?
Cooler weather in these parts of late, which has at least partially subdued the massive wildfire (dubbed “the Beast” by one clever wag) raging near Fort MacMurray. A number of mornings we woke to hazy skies and a smoky miasma…and Fort Mac is a significant distance from us, hundreds of miles. Gives you an idea of the scale of the conflagration.
Twenty per cent of the city is destroyed, according to the latest reports. Terrible news but not as horrific as it might have been. And despite the scale of the evacuation, there were no serious snafus, no loss of life, which is a credit to everyone involved. Let’s hear it for those first responders and emergency crews!
Our prime minister insists that now is not the time to lay blame for the inferno, that we should keep all this talk of global warming and climate change on the back burner until the folks of Fort Mac return home and have some sort of rebuilding scheme in place.
So, Mr. Trudeau, we can’t examine the past (yet), but how about the future? How about re-envisioning Fort Mac not as an industrial, fossil fuel hub, but a northern centre for alternative energy? How about factoring in a “green” component to the reconstruction of Fort MacMurray, transitioning it from a polluting, bituminous holdover from the past into a sustainable city of the future? A federal-provincial partnership, an infrastructure project with an actual purpose and end game, rather than merely throwing taxpayer money around. Imagine that…
* * *
Sporadic blog posts for the past month and while some of that was work-related, there were other distractions and developments to annoy me like, for instance, health and dietary adjustments after I was diagnosed as a Celiac. Lousy, shanty Irish genes. So no more gluten for me (farewell Guinness beer, sob). And since I was cleaning up my act anyway, I decided to ditch coffee drinking (strong and over-sugared) and pledge myself to more exercise, a healthier life regime. Which has totally screwed up my daily routine and since I am an obsessive-compulsive this, naturally, led to quite a bit of upheaval and teeth-grinding. Really just starting to come out of it now.
And about time, too. Didn’t I promise I’d be posting about the process of bringing my book Righteous Blood back into print? A rebooted version of one of my most popular efforts, with new cover art, as well as a specially written introduction and notes on each of the novellas.
Step 1: Finally completed edits/proofreading and okayed the final draft last week.
Step 2: Chose my cover art (a recent acrylic painting of mine, titled “Red Skies”).
Step 4: Signed on to Upwork and advertised for a person to handle the interior design/layout of my book. Upwork is a company that allows thousands of freelancers from around the world to post their resumès and hire themselves out on short term jobs relating to their area of expertise. Out of twenty-two possible candidates, I selected Susan, who has had extensive experience with layouts and typesetting, and hired her. She’s already impressed me with her communication skills and her promise to have something to show me later this week. That’s fast work.
Some blokes are lucky—they have the computer and graphic art background that allows them to do their own cover and book design. I am not so fortunate.
And not only that, the publishing platform I use, Lightning Source, is, to my mind, overly complicated, their parameters and specifications very precise. There is no room for error. If you submit text and cover files that fail to meet their inflexible specs, the files are rejected and you have to try again. This will be my ninth project with Lightning Source, I have a long history with them and in the end they do deliver fine-looking books, but they also drive me ’round the bend at times. I’m sure other folks have their own horror stories with Createspace or Lulu…the grass is always greener and all that. My advice is unless you have computer savvy or the resources to hire someone who can do the job, give Lulu a shot first. They’re much more user-friendly and oriented toward service and assistance.
Once I hear from Susan and have a firm idea of the page count of Righteous Blood, I then go back Lightning Source, download their cover template and send that to Chris. He’ll upload his cover design on to that template, tweak it, zip it to me for my approval.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I’ve got my cover art, hired my interior layout person.
The book is now officially “in the pipeline”.
Further instalments to come…
Endless processions of driverless cars.
Delivering their contents to automated houses.
Under the constant scrutiny of cameras, overhead drones.
Smart appliances reporting preferences, behavior, patterns; mined for data, narcing to their corporate masters.
Election night: voting by remote control, hardly bothering to check the results.
Keeping your head down, mouth shut.
Addicted to livestreaming porn sites.
Disgusted by the state of affairs but powerless to effect any change.
Buying stupid trinkets to fill the void.
Drugs when nothing else works.
An epidemic of suicide in your age bracket.
Desperately lonely and neurotic, verging on anti-social.
In your solitary rooms, secured by triple locks.
Talking to yourself and the listening walls.
Waiting for the knock on your door.
© Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)
God the eternal scold
not the touchy-feely type
No wonder we’re so
lousy in relationships
denied parental approval
The times we needed
you offering stilted prayers
on sore bended knees
While you sulked in the
Aether using the ol’ guilt trip
to try and get your way
© 2016 Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)
It can be a somber, sobering process, this kind of self-evaluation, and, inevitably, I get around to my writing.
Thirty years as a professional author and not much of a dent made. Black Dog Press, my imprint (described as a “micro-press” on my Saskatchewan business license) barely scrapes by. It’s no coincidence that I usually publish my titles in the early spring, right after the annual check from the Public Lending Rights folks arrives. It just about pays for each new release.
And let’s be honest, my books sell very modestly; outside a small coterie of readers, I am virtually unknown. I sent out something like 45 copies of my last book, Disloyal Son, to newspapers, magazines, assorted literary folk, receiving precisely three polite acknowledgements and no reviews. Not one. One mystery magazine emailed me, thanking me for sending a copy their way and offering to sell me a full-page ad that could maybe/possibly run in the same issue as the review (hint, hint). I didn’t have money for the ad and they didn’t end up publishing a review. It’s the way things work these days. Kirkus Reviews? Publishers Weekly? For the right price you can commission a four-star review and laudatory blurbs…never mind that no one has even glanced at the book in question.
Publishing is a dirty business, there’s no denying it.
And it’s hard to stay positive, to keep on keeping on, when you know the deck is stacked, the marketplace flooded with a quarter million new releases every year, a clammer of dissonant voices begging to be heard, a hellish, caterwauling chorus.
But it’s the work, that joyfulness I feel when everything is clicking, sentences and paragraphs almost being dictated to me, that’s what makes it worthwhile. As long as I’m able to put pen to paper, as long as those words don’t dry up, inspiration fleeing from me, I think I can endure almost anything.
Creation is everything to me. As soon as I’m done a project, I’m ready to move on, tackle another challenge. And that’s why I don’t spend much time mourning the poor sales of my last novel or short story collection, or grind my teeth down to the gums as I watch their rapid plummet to the bottom of Amazon’s sales rankings. Those four-dollar royalty checks? Hey, bring ’em on.
Just…keep the words coming. In good times and bad. Darkness and light. Ecstasy and despair.
Anything but that screaming silence.