The shapes of the world’s continents have changed ever since the time of the supercontinent, Pangaea. We’ve all seen the renditions of the continents shifting and South America unzipping from the edge of western Africa. Just looking at a map of the world it’s possible to see how the pieces of the earth fit together once. It may even be possible to conceive of how the continents might look millions of years in the future as the tectonic plates shift and move under and over each other. We think we know this now, but other ages of people thought they had the world’s shape figured out, too.
Contrary to popular belief, it didn’t take Columbus’s discovery of America to prove to the world’s thinkers that the earth wasn’t flat. Yes, in some parts of the world the belief was that the earth was a disc travelling on the back of a giant turtle, but back at the time of the Greeks and Egyptians and even before them, in China, great thinkers postulated that the world was round. They used logic and observation of the sun’s movement and shadows, as well as the way ships sink beneath the horizon to mathematically prove the earth’s general shape. What they didn’t know was the earth’s size. But that’s another story. They did, however, also theorize that the southern part of the earth were too hot for any human to inhabit. Happily for our friends south of the equator, they were wrong.
It was the Middle Ages that led to the belief that the world was flat. Maps became conveyers of religious dogma, as opposed to a representation of world. I’ll talk on this later, but as the world moved out of the Middle Ages into the Age of Discovery, the debate began about the shape of the solar system and whether it was terra centric (the sun and moon and planets revolving around the earth) or sol centric (the earth and all the other planets revolving around the sun). At the same time as these debates raged, people also debated the shape of the world’s continents. The prevailing belief seemed to be that Asia not only extended far to the east, but that it then hooked down and around the Indian Ocean to connect with the as-yet-undiscovered Cape of Africa, leaving the Indian Ocean as a land-locked sea.
What’s most interesting, is how human beliefs shaped the world around us. Think of the generations who grew up with these various beliefs. To them, the world WAS flat or the Indian Ocean WAS landlocked, or we really DID rely on a turtle to hold the whole thing up. That strength of belief colored all the beliefs of the early exploration of the east coast of whatever it was that Columbus discovered. first they believed it was the east coast of Asia. Then they believed it was a thin rind of a place, like a reef, that they could sail through. The maps show this. They show the ill-fated North West Passage, too – something that may finally exist if global warming continues its work.
In all of these cases it was the strength of their generation’s belief in what they’d drawn on their maps that kept explorers coming back to what became known as the Americas – and dying – again and again. When other beliefs gradually overtook the old ones, we gradually learned that what Columbus had really discovered was two new continents. Those layers of beliefs gradually reshaped the maps and thus the world we live in, much as my Cartos characters can believe and draw a new world into existence .
Which makes me wonder about the power of beliefs even today, when those who believe in a flat earth and those who believe in a round earth still wear away at each other like tectonic plates. Is it possible for such disparate beliefs to live side by side, or do these people actually inhabit two separate worlds?
And Columbus? He might have ‘proved’ that the earth was round, but he went to his grave believing that what he’d found was the backdoor to Asia, thus demonstrating that even an icon like Columbus could be blinded by his map of the world.
I never get lost, or only rarely. Few places turn me around, Portland Oregon being one of them. (I’m blaming the rivers and the volcanoes on creating a weird magnetic field that disturbs my sense of true north.) All my life I’ve arrived in a new place and managed to orient myself quickly, so that I’ve been able to get around with only my sense of direction and, when necessary, a map. These days, however, I’m beginning to feel like an anachronism every time I unfold my trusty, old fashioned paper map. In fact, I’m reminded of an episode of FRIENDS, when, in London, Joey had to place his map on the ground and step into it, in order to find himself.
Huinay Huayna, Forever Young, hung above the Urubumba River (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Let’s face it, with GPS, Onboard computers in our cars, and smart phones, all of which will give you the best route to take from point A to point B courtesy of MapQuest, the art of map reading is certainly on the wane. Which makes me wonder what the loss of that art will mean to our world.
Sure it might mean less coffee-stained maps, probably fewer traffic accidents and certainly fewer arguments between couples lost on a Sunday drive, but what will it mean to how we see the world?
My fascination with maps has always existed. Travelling as I do, one of my first purchases for any destination is a map that is large enough that I can understand the relationship between places, and that I can see enough details so that I can also get off the beaten path. When I go travelling, I like to trace my route on the map as an indelible reminder of the places I’ve gone and the things I’ve seen. It also reminds of the immensity of experiences I haven’t had, and all the other corners and mountain tops and valleys and towns and people I haven’t seen or met. The map reminds me of the world out there that I’ve, ever so briefly, stepped into.
Thread seller - Marrakesh, Morocco
With the advent of GPS and TomTom etc. I wonder how that affects our relationship with the world around us. With a map we get context. We get how small we are in a much larger world, whereas the GPS and OnBoard Computers I’ve used reduce the world to one small computer screen that points us in one direction and that doesn’t foster those exciting tingles a map gives when you realize there’s an alternative route to the one you’d chosen—one that might be richer for the fact it isn’t the most direct route or the path that most people travel.
Maps have fostered my imagination since the first time one fell out of my parents’ National Geographic Magazine and since the first time I traveled with my parents from British Columbia to Quebec and my mom showed me a map of the continent. I was seven and the vastness of the landscape excited me with all the half-glimpsed things along our route. Maps gave me a sense of where we were in relation to where we’d been. Today they give me a sense of the greater world. Old maps show what the landscape once was and how it has changed. Maps even give a sense of how other cultures view the world differently than most North Americans do today
Path along the Yukon River, following the routes of explorers.
The French Author, Andre Gide wrote that “One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a long time.” That’s what maps are all about, a guide to discovery and exploring something vaster , whereas GPS seems to make a journey all about yourself moving from point A to point B.
So for me, though GPS and MapQuest are great for short trips, I’ll muddle through with a paper map and my own sense of adventure. I’ll live by Gide’s philosophy and take a chance on getting lost or perhaps, like Joey, finding myself in the map.
So how do you prefer to travel? Are you map challenged or a fan? Do you depend on GPS when you’re travelling? Why?
Living like a Writer: Guilt, and How I Spent My Summer Vacation
This past summer I had the ‘interesting’ experience of living like a writer. My day-job contracted work dried up and I basically had no work for July and August – except my writing. Nothing to do except sit in the sun, walk my cats (yes, on a leash), and the business of writing. Sounds like a lovely dream, doesn’t it? Yes, it was, but it also involved a heck of a lot more discipline and work than most people would have thought. And that’s why I’m writing this post because living like a writer isn’t just sitting staring out a window and typing when inspiration strikes, the business of being an independent writer requires deadlines and non-writing work and most of all, an awful lot of self talk. So what did my writing summer entail?
1. Setting Goals – I knew in June that my contract work was going on hiatus, so I spent some time planning. I also (thankfully) spent a wonderful few days at the Think Like a Publisher workshop put on by Dean Wesley Smith and William Scott Carter where I developed an even more detailed set of goals for my summer. The thing that was interesting for me, is that the plan wasn’t rocket science and yet I’d had a heck of a time setting as detailed a plan for myself. Critical to the goals was making sure there was time for both writing and the business of writing. Setting this plan was as simple as creating two columns on a piece of paper, one with the writing goals and one column for the business of writing goals. The writing goals came first, but just having all the goals written down gave me a sense of clarity and I could plan my months ahead easily.
2. Setting up a schedule- I’m used to this, because being self employed, if I don’t set up a schedule things like my writing will never get done. My summer writing schedule involved getting up every morning and writing for at least two hours and possibly more depending on what I was working on, or where I was in the project. The schedule also built in reading time, exercise, social time and the BUSINESS.
3. Learning the Technology – As I’ve ventured down the self-publishing road, I realized I needed to understand a lot more than how to structure a novel. I needed to know better how to format and publish books both in e- formats and also for print on demand. That meant learning how to use not only electronic publishing formats, but also how to use programs like InDesign and Photoshop with more ease.
4. Learning the Business – This involved delving into a number of different areas, from how to blog more effectively (still working on that), to how to connect with others on social media (yes, I finally started to use Twitter though I still don’t fully understand it), and marketing.
So now that September is here, it’s time to review how I did and what I learned:
I accomplished my writing goals for the summer which were to complete a novel started I started in June, as well as two novellas. (Unfortunately one of the novellas wants to grow up to become a novel, so back to the drawing board on that one.) What did I learn? That my proclivity to write long still haunts me, but I can still maintain a schedule of writing even when I’m also involved with the business. This was a revelation for me, as I have spent the last few years struggling to maintain my creativity while also keeping up with the soul-sucking process of traditional marketing.
I accomplished my business goals as well: I had three novels that I wanted to have e-published as well as three short stories. All of these have been published. As well I wanted to have one novel published in print on demand. I actually achieved more than this and managed to have three novels approved and available for POD.
I updated my websites and found better ways to display my books. I established direct sales bookstores for my print publications and went through the hassle of obtaining ISBNs from the Canadian Government for my print books. I arranged for the development of a specialty website to fit with a series of fantasy books I write.
All of this filled my days so that aside from an hour or so exercise every day, I really wasn’t laying around in the sun. Better for my skin anyway, I suppose.
But perhaps the biggest accomplishment this summer was learning what it takes to be a writer, both financially and mentally. Financially, it meant that my spending had to cut right back, because I didn’t want to dig too deep into my savings. Mentally it meant that I had to recognize the legitimacy of what I was doing. I was writing. I was in business. But you know what? Even knowing that I was working at something all day at least five days a week (and usually seven) I still experienced a strange phenomenon: Guilt.
Guilt that I could be doing something I loved so much, while everyone else still had to go to work. And I wasn’t on vacation! Now that it’s September and my contract work is back in full swing, I really would love to go back to dealing with that guilt again. Now to set goals for the winter (and hope my contract work dries up again next summer).
Readers of my books set in Afghanistan or Portugal and Burma often ask me how I got the details right. Of course the answer is research, and in all truth I can’t say that I got all the details right, but for me to write I have to have a sense that I have enough knowledge of the place and the culture to write it correctly, or as close to correctly, as I know how. Same goes for a particular time period or a specific piece of technical knowledge. This blog is about how I go about building the knowledge so that when I sit down to write it flows out of my hands.
1. Reading: I read about what I want to write about. I read fiction that gives me a flavor of how other people write about a location. I read non-fiction accounts, memoirs, biographies and histories. These both allow me to pick up the nuggets these writers gleaned about the place or culture. I’ll pick up cheap coffee table books from remainder tables at book stores just so I can look at the photos. This often fuels my sense of place. I haunt the history and geography sections of used book stores like Powell’s to find relevant writing about the place or timeframe, like for 1400’s Portugal for my upcoming book, The Cartographer’s Daughter. I’ll read the coffee table book if something captures my imagination. For example, I was living in Thailand and saw a small coffee-table book about Burmese Puppets. I picked it up and what I read spurred me to want to write a story about the puppets – I know, it’s a ridiculously esoteric subject – but I read that book from cover to cover and used it as a jumping off place to identify other information I needed to know.
2. Maps: I’m a huge fan of maps. Maps give a me a sense of location and perspective. I recall traipsing around Venice, and it was the maps with the bird’s eye view that I first looked at when I arrived, that stopped me from ever getting totally lost in the maze of streets, canals and alleys. The same map put into perspective where Marco Polo’s house was and how that location within Venice might impact his view of the world. Maps let you identify potentialities in the location and they also show specific locations for events in your stories. Maps, I find, are an inspiration.
This is especially the case in writing historical stories, because maps not only show you the landscape back then, but they also tell you a lot about the culture, belief system and world view of the people. I’ll talk more about maps in a later blog.
Similar to historical fiction, when the story is a fantasy set in a fantasy landscape, I make maps up. Knowing where things are located and having place names in your head, allows you to build histories around those landscapes which are so important to making fantastical places real. It also forces you to think how long it would take to get from point A to B and about how the landscape would impact the characters who live or travel there.
3. Talking to people: Talking to people who are experts in their fields can help to get the details right. It can also be a source of inspiration with those odd facts that are so obvious to the experts, but no one else is aware of. These are jewels for writers, because they let readers in on the secret language of whatever this specialty is.
When I was writing about the Burmese puppets I had the good fortune to travel in Burma(Myanmar) and made a point of going to every puppet show in every town I travelled through. I made arrangements to interview the owner of one of the shows in Mandalay who spoke moderately good English and he referred me on to another man who made the puppets. It turned out this kind man was an ex-surgeon and spoke excellent English. He had been instrumental in providing information to anthropologists doing research on the puppets and kindly showed me how they were made, demonstrated some of them for me and even gave me a precious manuscript he had received from the anthropologists so that I could photocopy it for myself. You have to understand that at the time Burma was almost a closed country and that he was taking a risk even talking to me, a writer. Those items I treasure to this day and those unbound pages still have a place of honor on my bookshelves. They were also critical to a couple of fantasies and Karen L. McKee’s Paranormal Romance, Shades of Moonlight.
If you can’t talk to the people, you might be able to get in touch via e-mail. When I was writing my Afghan novel I was in touch with past foreign correspondents, and members of the military that friends helped me locate.
Writing about other cultures, it’s also important to talk to people of that culture. For my Afghanistan book I spent a number of coffee and lunches interviewing a lovely Afghani woman who was brave and interested enough to talk to me about woman in her culture, about her faith and about what was happening in her country, as well attitudes amongst her people towards the foreigners ‘liberating’ her country. These attitudes shaped my characters. She also provided me with small phrases and legends that are common in her country. These are also gold because they allow you to build in the real words and beliefs of the people.
4. Old Newspapers: If you are writing about a historical period where there were newspapers, or you are writing about another part of the world and can get newspapers in a language you can read from that time period, this can be an invaluable way to get a sense of the background events that were occurring in the location at the time you are writing about. Nowadays many major newspapers have their archives available on line. Reading the old papers can also spur inspiration regarding events that are reported and how your characters might have been involved or touched by the event, and can also give you a sense of fashion and language used ‘back in the day’. For example, a story about how bats had taken over the old Regina City library back in the 1920s led to an opening chapter of the first adult novel I ever wrote.
5. Library and Internet research: Having a local librarian as an ally can be a boon, because a librarian can suggest you try looking at books in areas you might not have even thought of. University libraries are also superb resources. When I was writing about Burma I wanted a specific book about the magic systems and the animistic spirit worship. There’s been very little written on the subject at the time, but there was one fairly comprehensive anthropological study. I found the book (a very old, falling apart version) and ended up photocopying the whole thing so I could have it available as a resource.
The internet can be helpful in finding old journals and photos of locations taken by other travelers. Blogs can be a wonderful source of information, both about the place and about the traveler’s reactions to it. I used old articles in The Economist and old travel journals about a very rough ride through northern Afghanistan to bring realism to my novel set in that country.
6. Travel: I try to travel every few years and I don’t go to resorts and I don’t do tours. I go to places I think I might want to write about and I spend my time poking around the back streets and absorbing the feel of the place. I spend time talking to people to get a sense of people’s attitudes. I’ll sit in a park and let people come to me. I talk to waiters and taxi drivers and vendors on the street – often with very limited communication skills because we speak different languages, but enough to get a sense of small bits of their realities—like the
Carmelita of Puno, on the Arequipa streets (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
woman who worked in one city in Peru, but who had left her children behind in another city because there was better money to be earned where she was – a hard economic choice the country’s situation had forced on her.
Before I travel I think about where I want to go and what I want to see and a plan a general itinerary around that, but I also let fate take me where it will. There have been times when a chance meeting, or a wander off the beaten path, has allowed me to find something wonderful that takes the potential writing in a whole new direction.
So research for writing isn’t so much simply gathering facts and then writing about them, it’s about immersing yourself in a location or situation (even if you’ve never been there), so that when you sit down to write the place itself inspires what you are writing. I recall my Afghan book as one of the most difficult books I have ever written. Why? Because I had so many false starts on the book. I would start and get a chapter in and realize I wasn’t ready to write that story yet because I wasn’t filled with the sense of place and the culture. So I kept on researching and wrote other books and then one day I sat down and the book poured out wiht all the wonderful details in just the right places. And yes, there are probably errors in the book, because in a war-torn country there are places so remote that you just can’t get the information. So you know what? There are things in that book that arose purely from my imagination.
Because it’s fiction, folks. Remember that. Fiction.
I’ve been thinking about magic systems a lot lately because I’ve been working on novels that involve magic and I’ve been planning out book number two in the Terra Trilogy. I also happened to catch a bit of Jurassic Park last night and for the first time really heard the Jeff Goldblum character give his lecture about how the Jurassic Park scientists had come by their science too easily, and how everything – in their case the creation of dinosaurs—came at a price. In Jeff’s case he was foretelling the deadly price that was to come in the movie, but what he said resonates on many levels. Everything has to come at a price to characters, especially when it comes to magic.
This relates to the planning and the world-building a writer must do before they write their book. I recall when I wrote my first book set in the Cartos universe, a universe where god created both humans and older beings made not of clay, but of earth and the Creator’s blood. This gave them the power to Create and change, so they can rewrite the landscape of their world. But the power of almost gods has to come at a price, so what would be fitting? Sure, there would be exhaustion, but there has to be something more. Logically, the price has to relate to the magic, so Creation had to play into the price. In this case, use of the Cartos magic means they are taking power from the mother goddess, so the price is that they must repay that creation. Which means that after the use of their power, they desperately need sex, which repays creation with procreation. If they don’t have sex, lets just say bad things happen. It may sound funny when I talk about it, but think about the consequences. No wonder the characters are hedonists and generally bitchy. How would you feel with a case of lust that literally burns in your bones after you’ve used the magic? Think about the societal impacts that sort of magic might have. It plays big into my upcoming epic Fantasy, the Warden of Power, and equally as big into my dytopian Fantasy, TERRA Incognita, my Historical Y.A. fantasy The Cartographer’s Daughter which will be coming out in September and in my current Urban Fantasy Afterburn, all of which take place in the Cartos universe.
But the price of magic exists even when it isn’t quite as front and centre. Magical creatures pay a price for their power. The Fairy folk can’t touch iron. Vampires, by their very nature, are killed by sunlight. Werewolves lose total control once a month and have to live with the guilt they inflict on the people they kill. Zombies—well—they fall apart, and even Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson character who seems to get off pretty lightly for being a shape shifter, is part of a race that has been almost wiped out because of their power.
In today’s commercial world, this need to ‘pay’ seems normal, because these creatures aren’t gods. They are creatures ‘imbued’ or, some would say, ‘inflicted’ with magic. So magic is not only their ‘specialness’ but it is also a burden to carry. After all, even the Cartos carry the burden of Creation and knowing that if they change the landscape, they change all the beings on it—including the humans with whom they intermarry.
As non-magical beings and, in my case, a writer, I think this is one of the key lessons perhaps Jeff Goldblum, and Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park, were commenting on. Yes, they were talking about scientists, but in today’s society we need to remember that everything comes at a price and not just at the grocery or the department store. Last night, in addition to Jurassic Park, I also caught a National Geographic special on Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The special talked about the huge decline in the penguin, parrot and albatross colonies and in the dolphin and sea lion populations due to the industrial fishing taking place in that part of the world. Night shots from space showed the lights of the industrial fishing fleets were brighter, and larger, than the lights of Buenos Aires. Think about it: The fishing fleets are larger and brighter than a major metropolis! And so the sardine and other fish populations are disappearing and so are the birds and the porpoise and the seals that feed on them. Many of the young birds starve to death because their parents have to travel so far (fifty miles or more) for food and can’t get back in time to feed the chicks.
Many years ago, I read the wonderful fantasy novella by Larry Niven called The Magic Goes Away, about a world where all the magic had been used up. As I watched the Patagonia show last night it seemed to me that we are using up our own real magic— the funny little penguins , the rush of wings of the brightly colored parrots, the leap of the dolphin. When I read that book I was filled with a horrible sense of loss–the same feeling I had last night watching that show.
Unlike all those magical characters, we haven’t yet realized the price we’re about to pay.
Who Are These Readers of Which You Speak? Blogging as Social Marketing
Fromages Tree, Ta Phrom, Angkor, Cambodia (2008) Karen L. Abrahamson
I’m going to end this marketing series (well if something else comes up, I’ll add it later, but next week I’m going to start blogging about my writing) talking about blogging. Not that I’m an expert by any means, but blogging seemed like the kind of social marketing I could control and manage, so I’ve done regular posts since January. Those posts were about prepping for my trip to Peru, about my wild and wooly Bengal cats, about my trip to Peru and then about marketing. All of them have been fun to write and hopefully you’ve enjoyed them, too, but I wanted to spend this post talking about how blogging has worked in terms of social marketing and what I’ve learned over the past eight months.
Has blogging lead to an increase in traffic to my site? Resoundingly, yes, when I check the analytics. However whether it was the right kind of traffic, I can’t say. I’ve certainly been spammed more. I’ve also had more comments, especially during the Branding Your Book blog, and during my trip to Peru. But the latter came with pretty pictures, so I’m putting the traffic down to that and the fact that maybe people were interested in my misadventures in Peru.
I suppose any increase in traffic to your website is a good thing as long as your titles are front and centre on your website, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about who am I actually drawing to the website with my blog. I mean who are these people who come and check out what I have to say?
I can’t be sure who was reading my blog when I was prepping for Peru and when I was travelling there. Some, I know, were friends and acquaintances, or friends of friends. All good, because blogging is a social enterprise. But who has been reading my posts about marketing? I’d guess, from who made comments, most likely other writers. Are these my target audience? Well, for a marketing blog, I’d say yes. But this raises three thorny questions I guess I should have thought of way back when:
1. Why am I blogging?
2. Why do I have a website? and
3. Who do I want to read my blogs?
I’ll come clean here: I had never really given thought to having a website or blog or any other marketing matter until it became clear that, before acquiring a manuscript, New York editors were checking out new authors to see if they had an online presence. It was okay if you had a website. It was better if you had a blog and a following on twitter and facebook. With the advent of indie publishing, this presence became even more important as a means to draw people in so that they would consider your books. The website was the most important place to promote your books and writing. So my question is, if my website and blog are to promote my writing, are they attracting my intended audience of potential readers?
The answer? Maybe. Maybe a potential reader might be interested in book marketing, but I think not so much.
What might a draw a potential book reader in?
Here’s my possible list:
1. Topics of personal interest to them. A Y.A. reader of books like Twilight might be interested in blogs about teen romance. They might also be interested in books that take place in a high school, or books about loner characters because, let’s face it, we all feel alone in high school. Interest might also be there for blogs about the challenge of being strong and independent when social pressures push young people to be anything else.
2. Other topics that interest readers – Again, using Y.A. readers as an example, issues of social justice and fairness, possibly environmental issues, issues of social exclusion, dealing with boy/girl-trouble etc. This list may, or may not, be different for Fantasy readers. Blogs on characters who are loners and who have special powers. Blogs on magic systems or magical creatures might have equal appeal.
3. Topics related to your writing – While any of the above topics can be related to your novels, topics related to your writing would focus on matters that relate to how you write. For example, how you built the world you are writing in; writing about the research process and interesting information you come across; writing about your writing process and challenges.
4. Topics relating specifically to your books – this would include writing about the locales where your books take place; ideas that led to the book, or ideas that were considered and discarded; or more information about your characters.
5. Personal information – like my blogs about my cats, readers enjoy knowing more about you and what makes you tick.
So my blogs over the next while are going to focus on what I think readers might enjoy and not totally on my fellow writers. That said, I have to say one of the more inspirational blogs to me is one written by fellow author Matt Buchman who talks (inspirationally) about where he draws his inspiration from. His blogs are great reads for anyone, reader or writer.
So as a reader, what topics would you like to see blogs about? As a writer, what do you like to blog about?
This morning I happened to talk to a reader of one of the Karen L. McKee books called Judas Kiss. The reader told me she had had difficulty reading the book; it might have been the fact that she was in hospital at the time, but when she got home she picked up the book and still had trouble. When I asked her what stopped her there was no hesitation: The cover. She described it as too dark, and though the book is a romantic suspense, to her the black, white and red cover said this book was horror.
Not what I was going for.
So I decided to get in touch with one of my cover-designing, author friends, Pati Nagle, and ask her a few questions about how to design a proper cover.
1. Are there specific design elements, like title fonts and placement authors should think about as we design covers?
Pati suggests that a good rule of thumb is to use only one or two fonts on a cover. Critical to this is make sure the text is legible even in small (thumbnail) size. This means that if you are using an ornate font, you need to check whether it is readable in the size cover that will come up on Amazon or Smashwords or Barnes and Noble.
Pati also says that generally the title and author go at the top and bottom, or both, leaving the centre for the main image.
2. Are there guidelines regarding using too many or too few images on a cover?
Pati suggests that we should keep it simple as too many images will confuse the reader.
From my experience, when a reader looks at a book, the cover is generally designed with one or two strong images that the reader’s eye moves back and forth over. My experience as a photographer says that too many images make the reader’s eye keep bouncing from image to image and never really come to rest so the cover never really gains a focus for the reader. As a result, they don’t know where to look.
3. How do we convey mood? For mystery? For Fantasy? Horror? Etc.
The best way to really understand book covers for each genre is to study recently published books to see what the genre is doing. You can decide then, whether to follow their lead. This holds true especially for bestsellers.
4. How do we judge when a cover is too dark or too light?
If it’s readable, it’s fine. That usually means there must be sufficient contrast between the image and the text.
5. Are there specific graphic design elements to keep in mind?
The 1/3/9 guideline. The placement on the page does not have to be in exactly this position.
In graphic design there is a 1/3/9 rule for division of a picture. They can be in any order (meaning you can change placement around the cover).
When designing your cover, create a graphic image with cover dimensions and three bands of those proportions, and compare it to your cover. See if the title/author name and main image are in the 3 and 9 proportions. The 1 proportion can be a secondary image or a blurb. This isn’t an absolute rule, but it’s a good guideline.
6. What is a good process to use to come out with a reasonable cover?
Select a cover image and choose a font for the title and author. Lay those out on the page. Then tweak the text color for contrast and at the same time harmonize it with the other colors. Add a blurb or subtitle last.
When choosing the cover image, consider using elements from the book as that will please the author and the readers. Iconic images are best: things that will immediately raise an idea in the viewer’s mind. If the cover concept is complicated to describe, it probably won’t read well on a cover.
7. Are there specific programs you recommend for developing a cover?
A good graphics program that will let you build a layered image. Many people use Photoshop.
A couple of other points to consider come from readers I’ve spoken to and my own experience:
A cover with a photograph may not go over as well as something more artistic or illustrative.
For authors who can’t afford Photoshop or something like it, covers have been successfully developed using only PowerPoint.
When positioning a picture on the page, consider the strongest elements and where they should be to draw the reader’s eye. Photographers know the rule of thirds – that each picture can be divided into thirds horizontally and vertically. The best place to put major elements is near where those horizontal and vertical lines intersect, because that is where a viewer’s eye naturally goes.
Finally, always consider what image will sell. By this I mean, what image has the best chance of getting people’s attention. Case in point are the two covers here. The one with the feather was my first cover. Then I realized that stories with dragons on the cover (and this story actually has one) probably sell better. Well duh!
So cover two came into being. That’s the nice thing about this electronic world- we can try things out and find what works.
Just remember, these are design guidelines, not rules. So keeping all these thoughts in mind, what are some of your favorite covers and how do they meet these guidelines—or not.
Color 1
And to keep my reader happy, I’m considering changing the color of Judas Kiss. What do you think? Which one would you choose?
Women in the moment of Cusco Parade(2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Coming home from another continent affords lots of time to sit in airports and to reflect (as you cross time zones) on the nature of time, and timing, and how we experience it. Coming from North America we are so driven by the clock – to be punctual, to punch the clock, and to resent those who don’t bow to the ticking moments in the same way the rest of us do. I speak from experience. I lost a very good friend because she refused to honor my time as I honored hers. She always kept me waiting for at least an hour every time I was to meet her for a social engagement and when I pressed her on the issue she decided my friendship wasn’t worth trying to change her time sense. So we parted ways.
In Peru I ran into a similar phenomena. There I was, sitting in the train station at Aguas Caliente, going home from Machu Picchu, and the train before mine arrived. They called the train’s arrival. They called boarding and the foreign tourists crowded around to load. They called last call and a few Peruvians came running. They called last call again (I guess they didn’t mean it the first time). More Peruvians came running. They called last call again and an entire tour group (Peruvian) came trotting up. They closed the gate and announced the train was leaving.
Time worn ripples in the stone of Sacsaywaman (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
About 5 minutes later another entire Peruvian tour group arrived and were a tad put out that the train had left without them.
I watched this and put the phenomena down to this being a tourist train and Peruvian tourists, but then I had to catch a plane to get from Cusco to Lima. There, I was, sitting in the departure lounge as LAN airlines boarded a flight. They announce last call. A couple of people come running. They announce last call again, and a few more people come. They announce that they were closing the gate and a western tourist who had been guarding the belongings of a Peruvian friend, finally tossed the friend’s belongings to the gate crew and boarded. His friend eventually showed up and was choked that the plane wasn’t waiting for her. They announced last call again and at that point – after Airport staff had been walking around for at least ten minutes paging missing passengers (by name) – someone pointed out to a group of businessmen in the waiting area that they were supposed to be on that plane. They dashed off, madly. So after about 4 last calls, personal pages and various and sundry announcements the gate was finally locked and the plane took off, but the whole thing got me thinking.
Village near Ollantaytambo (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
What was it about Peruvians? Did they just not pay attention? Was the whole world to wait for them? Did they just not care that they were holding up an entire airport? Was there something called ‘Peruvian time’?
While waiting for another flight (this time in Canada), I had the chance to chat with a Peruvian woman who has lived in North America a long time. I ran my story past her and she laughed and said that the Peruvian psyche is not so Machiavellian. Instead the reason those passengers missed their trains and almost their planes was more likely because Peruvians are more ‘in the moment’. When they engage with friends they are totally ‘present’, and so they miss little things like the announcement for a train or last call for a plane. She told me that when friends get together for dinner they had best plan for people to arrive two hours late.
Which is interesting for a writer, because, from personal experience, our sense of timing is such a rich source of conflict.
And now I’ve come home to Canada to find my mother in the hospital from a stroke and my family playing a waiting game. No longer is our focus on punctuality. Now we live in the moment and keep hoping for a few moments more – Peruvian time. Let the world pass us by for a long, long time.
The masses at the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Machu Picchu caught in the coil of the coil of the Urubamba River (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Okay, I guess I have a type A personality. If it isn’t right the first time I’ve been known to do something again and again and again, until I get it – if not right, at least closer to right. I’ve been known to go back to the same place again and again and again to get THE photo I want, when previous attempts didn’t yield what I wanted. With writing, I’ve been known to trash manuscripts 2 or 3 or 4 times before getting what I originally envisioned.
Terraces (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Given this, it shouldn’t surprise you that I decided to return to Machu Picchu after blowing out my legs on the Inca trail so that on my first visit to the site I was basically stationary. So up I got at 4:45 am on April 24, to catch the train to Aguas Caliente, an hour and a half train ride as the Andes unwound their scrub grass into jungle. Picture dawn light on magnificent glaciers, and then we slid into Aguas Caliente and I had to catch a bus up the mountain. And there I was. Again.
The Orchids of Machu Picchu (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Not that my ankles were 100% yet. Nope. I was still using a walking stick and my left ankle was still swollen and sore, but darn it, I’d come all this way and I darn well was going to enjoy the view. So I set off uphill, up innumerable steps to the guardhouse that perched along the path between the Sungate and what was once the main gate to the city. There I sat on the edge of a terrace and overlooked the city, trying to believe I was really here. It was still incredibly busy with tourists, but this time I could move away, an take cover in the shade of bamboo farther up the terraces.
The Guardhouse, many steps above the city (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
I ambled (read limped) around the ruins and found the series of fountains the Inca had built. Now don’t think spraying water and dolphins or cherubs – these are a series of small pools fed by a single spring that still supplies the ruins with water from far up the mountain. The story goes that each small pool has its own voice. I think could almost make out the tonal differences out over the myriad loud tourists. So I focused on the liquid song and, on as hot a day as this was, and after seeing children crying because foolish parents forgot to bring drinks, I could believe that the Inca built this series of fountains as homage to the importance of water to life.
There were swallows soaring and song sparrows trilling and generally it was a glorious day – except for the tourists. The final straw for me was some children who were determined to separate a very young baby llama from its mother because they wanted to pet it. I mean where were those darn children’s parents? I was about to use my walking stick and not on the llamas! Thankfully another tourist intervened before I got myself arrested. But I did get some photos I’m happy with and so here you go.
Enjoy! Ciao, from Peru!
The last view of Machu Picchu (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Ollantaytambo sits in the Sacred Valley, northwest of Cuzco and is known for its ruins and its train station. You see this is the place most travelers to Machu Picchu go through, climbing on the train that will take them to Aguas Calientes and the bus to the famous ruins. It’s the place that the Camino Inca treks often stop for breakfast before hitting the trails into the mountains. I came here because it was (supposed to be) a quiet little town and because I am determined to go back to Machu Picchu and see the place as I didn’t see it before.
The town of Ollanta (as it is known to the locals) is apparently the best surviving example of Inca town planning available today.
Women at Ollantaytambo market (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Leave the Plaza de Armas and turn towards the ruins on the mountain, and the streets are narrow, cobbled and have irrigation channels running down the sides. Stone walls are crowned with cactus in a traditional alternative to barbed wire and broken glass and each house sports twin bulls on their ridgepole – the result of the Spanish saying a bull was more appropriate than the Inca symbol of the ‘puma’.
You can tell this town wasn’t built in this century by the way the traffic congests every time more than two cars get on the road together. Now picture a town converged on by tour busses, taxis, moto-taxis and the occasional semi, all trying to squeeze across a single-lane bridge and I swear entertainment in Ollanta is sitting under the lone tree in the Plaza and watching the mess reconfigure itself again and again in a kaleidoscope of vehicles.
Unfortunately I didn’t get to see as much of the town as I would have liked, because both my ankles are still crippled from the Machu Picchu hike, but I did try to get out daily and finagled my way along (between naps – hey, recovering here) as the lone tourist with a local association devoted to preserving the weaving arts in small villages up in the mountains.
Irrigation waterfall along the mountain road, Ollantatambo, (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
We drove out in the morning, heading up a dirt road that stretched back into the mountains. The road rose, switching back and forth across the mountain sides following a small rushing river, the Patacancha, that was joined by innumerable glacier-fed torrents that foamed down the mountainsides. Green Inca terraces, some the longest in Peru, an old stucco church with thatch roof that I was told is one of the oldest in South America. There were donkeys and pigs and sheep and trains of pack horses headed up the mountain and views of people harvesting their papa (potatoes) laboriously by hand.
Off to the fields, Pumamarka (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
But best of all are the people. Not only are the people of Ollanta and environs friendly (they always have a smile, especially if you have one first), but this is a town where tradition has not yet been erased by globalization. Men and women both proudly wear their traditional clothing.
Nowhere was this more clear than in the small weaving town of Patacancha and the towns around it. As we drove in we could see the men in the school yard, bright orange and red clothing against the green.
Woman near Pumamarka (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
At the weaver’s cooperative, there were 36 women dressed proudly in their heavy skirts, hand-woven button-embellished jackets, and small hats held on by beaded chin straps. According to my informant, these villagers are not seeing their young men and women leave the village and that seemed the case looking at the ages of the women in the group.
So the coop bought the women’s weavings and I took photos while we sat on a hill side under thatched huts and blue skies with the sound of the wind in the eucalyptus and the river running. Taking it all in, I didn’t feel bad that I couldn’t walk much.
At the Weaving Coop (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
Here in Ollanta, the culture and the past still lives and breathes and, if you sit quietly in the Plaza de Armas, both will pass you by – along with the traffic.
One of my new friends, waving goodbye (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson
The shapes of the world’s continents have changed ever since the time of the supercontinent, Pangaea. We’ve all seen the renditions of the continents shifting and South America unzipping from the edge of western Africa. Just looking at a map of the world it’s possible to see how the pieces of the earth fit together once. It may even be possible to conceive of how the continents might look millions of years in the future as the tectonic plates shift and move under and over each other. We think we know this now, but other ages of people thought they had the world’s shape figured out, too.
It was the Middle Ages that led to the belief that the world was flat. Maps became conveyers of religious dogma, as opposed to a representation of world. I’ll talk on this later, but as the world moved out of the Middle Ages into the Age of Discovery, the debate began about the shape of the solar system and whether it was terra centric (the sun and moon and planets revolving around the earth) or sol centric (the earth and all the other planets revolving around the sun). At the same time as these debates raged, people also debated the shape of the world’s continents. The prevailing belief seemed to be that Asia not only extended far to the east, but that it then hooked down and around the Indian Ocean to connect with the as-yet-undiscovered Cape of Africa, leaving the Indian Ocean as a land-locked sea.
Which makes me wonder about the power of beliefs even today, when those who believe in a flat earth and those who believe in a round earth still wear away at each other like tectonic plates. Is it possible for such disparate beliefs to live side by side, or do these people actually inhabit two separate worlds?
