5 Book Design Myths Self-Publishing Authors Can’t Afford to Believe

Self-publishing authors have a sizable challenge before them: They must assemble a team that will bring their vision to life, collaborating with each team member to supercharge every aspect of the book. A publishing team is composed of individuals with skillsets in various concentrations including editorial, publishing coordination and, of course, book design.

Here’s the problem: Most of us have never collaborated with a book designer, and thus are entering this high-stakes process without a real understanding of how to navigate it. While your book designer should be equipped to guide you, informing yourself before you engage them will help optimize your collaboration.

What follows are five rhetorical trapdoors that self-publishing authors should avoid.

1. “It doesn’t matter what I like, as long as my market likes it.”

This may seem logical at first blush. And, yes, designers always consider demographic appeal. However, the author should not marginalize their own preferences, especially in the realm of reputational publishing. I believe it’s critical that you identify with your cover, first and foremost. 

If you love your book design, you’ll enter the marketplace with an aura of pride and confidence that your audience will respond to. After all, your cover is how hundreds—maybe thousands—of people will meet you for the first time. You’ll be eager to seek out these introductions if you’re proud of the book that you and your designer developed together.

This is actually one of the great advantages of self-publishing. Your cover design doesn’t have to be subject to the whims of marketing departments or other bureaucratic interests who will “committee” your work into a bland, samey product that is in no danger of standing out. You can have a cover that is uniquely you…and I believe your market will remember you for it.

A better way to put it: “I want this book design to be reflective of me, my voice, and my message. Ultimately, this will translate to my audience. If I’m proud of the cover, I’ll be more motivated to leverage it for years to come.”

2. “I’m not creative—you don’t want me involved in the process!”

Creative or not, you are a critical player in the collaboration. Independent authors have the luxury of being a stakeholder in the cover process. Success here is a mindmeld: The designer’s ability to unlock and execute creative solutions must fuse with the author’s larger vision for the project. A great designer can develop stunning work, but if it doesn’t jive to that vision, the designs still might miss the mark.

Even if you, the author, don’t consider yourself the creative type, your input remains a powerful force in shaping the designer’s direction. This doesn’t mean you have to do any creative heavy-lifting. Just do your best to provide thoughtful answers to any questions your designer may have, and remain open-minded throughout the process. Your designer may challenge your thinking or preconceptions with some fascinating twists that you had not anticipated. Don’t be afraid to have your mind blown!

A better way to put it: “No one understands my book’s message better than I do. I’ll give my designer whatever information and feedback I can to help them develop outstanding work.”

3. “My designer provided me with book cover concepts. Gathering opinions on social media will help!”

It’s a common impulse to crowdsource feedback via posting concepts on LinkedIn or Facebook. This is understandable on some level. Not all of us are confident in our abilities to evaluate design so we may long for some external validation. But posting in-process designs on social media is a far cry from scientifically-conducted market research. Rather, it opens a Pandora’s Box of bias, hyperbolic response, groupthink, and other muddying factors. All too often, the authors who undertake this exercise come back more confused and uncertain than they were before. 

My biggest problem with soliciting feedback on in-process covers is that they lack an important factor: activation. When you reveal your final cover—“Behold, my book!”—people will respond with a reverence and excitement that cannot exist when you share works-in-progress. When you do that, the authority is transferred away from you and to the reader. 

Is there any benefit to the exercise? If you remain acutely aware of the pitfalls, perhaps you could snag an interesting idea from the slate of responses, or note a heavy favorite. That said, no LinkedIn scroller’s opinion matters as much as yours. Don’t let your instincts be undermined: If 80% of your LinkedIn respondents prefer the red cover, but you prefer the blue cover … go with the blue one.

A better way to put it: “I should think twice before opening up my design collaboration to my network, as it could create more problems than it solves. If I do share my covers, I don’t have to take any advice I don’t agree with.”

4. “My book cover needs to sell copies!”

Book covers don’t sell books. 

Of course, I’m not the first book designer to say this. The great Chip Kidd—who designed at least one book cover you’ve seen—insists that covers are a tool of compulsion, not sales. Sure, there can be a dotted line between the consumer liking a book’s cover and ultimately buying it. But the notion that consumers will buy a book based strictly on its cover looking a certain way is flawed. 

Think of a book like a home or a car. If you’re house hunting, you may be compelled to view a home that is visually appealing to you. Same with buying your next car. But in both cases, there are several additional layers of examination that need to occur between the time you decide to examine the asset and make the purchase. Such is the case with books.  

The cover design is the top of the funnel, so to speak. It should look the part, capture interest and get the audience curious about the message within. Keep these goals in mind when you’re discussing direction and evaluating your concepts.

A better way to put it: “I want my book cover to encourage people to examine it further. And that starts with a compelling design.”

5. “I’m not in love with the concepts my designer sent me, but I don’t want to insult them by asking for something different.”

Once you’ve engaged with a book designer and had initial discussions about the direction, chances are you’ll be pretty excited to see what they’ve cooked up for you. But what happens if their first pass doesn’t give you the warm fuzzies? You might feel awkward telling them the designs didn’t land, especially if you’ve developed a rapport with them. 

Delivering bad news about something they worked so hard on might feel like telling someone you don’t like their Christmas gift.

Remember: you are investing in an iterative process. While designers are always trying to hit the mark, we also recognize that sometimes the path to glory isn’t a straight one. Some of my personal favorite cover designs were second takes, built off of fresh direction that emerged after the author provided feedback on the first set of covers. 

Perhaps you feel a little guilty because your designer did exactly what you asked of them, but you now realize your initial direction was off. Again, this is part of the process. Sometimes it takes seeing what doesn’t work to recognize what does.

If you do find yourself in this scenario, you can turn it into a positive inflection point by providing thoughtful and constructive feedback. Even if those covers aren’t your final solution, your reaction to them will offer invaluable direction to your designer that will help them nail it on the next pass.

A better way to put it: “Design is a process, and even negative feedback can be productive. It can help my designer hone in on a solution that we’re both proud of.”

Each of these myths are symptoms of the same mistake: the author reducing their value in the process. The impulse to do this is based on a lack of confidence when it comes to collaborating with a book designer. That’s wholly reasonable! It’s one of those things none of us is innately equipped to do. It’s natural tendency to want to shift the pressure to other parties (your network, your audience, your designer.)

My goal with this post is not to convince you of a specific form that your collaboration should take. Each author I work with conducts their project in a slightly different manner, and sometimes they might lean into the thinking that I discourage for logical reasons. For example, I have worked with individuals who post covers on LinkedIn to encourage network engagement (thankfully, doing so without internalizing the feedback.) I have also worked with authors whose book had such a niche market that gearing the design for the audience over the author made sense.

Whatever the nature of your book project, hopefully this blog will at least color your thinking as you approach the collaborative process. The recurring theme is that the author must recognize their important role in the process. Trust your designer, but ensure that you are an active contributor.

Ready to talk about your book design?