My Favorite Book Covers of 2024

2024 was interesting in the way of the apocryphal Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.” Taking the time out to peruse the best of the new releases — for both book cover design and books in general — is tremendously enjoyable. Needed, even, now more than ever.

When it came time to do the years’ tally, summary, and post, the number of candidates in the favorites folder was well over three hundred: a third more than last year, more than double 2022’s.

It’s been argued that the increasing number of published titles is a reflection of publishers’ woes, including fighting back against publishing slop. (See my Beautifully Briefed series for more.) However, the increasing number of published titles means more work for the book designers among us — some of whom show, or continue to show, exceptional skill.

Consequently, this year’s list of favorite book design items has grown: up to one hundred and sixteen. Wow.

Fix a beverage and get comfy.

Please remember that the usual disclaimer applies: these are my favorites — others might say “best,” but I’ve been in this business long enough to know that there’s always another title you haven’t seen or read about. I don’t want to disrespect any of the talented book designers not on this list. I’ve tried to include design credit where I could — special thanks to the folks who answered emails with that information — and wish to stress that any mistakes in the list below are mine.

Note: If you’re on Foreword’s main page, please click on the post title, above, to view this list. You’ll get larger covers for your viewing pleasure.

• • •

My Four Faves for ’24
Cover design by Pablo Delcan.

It’s no surprise that we’re leading with an example of minimalism-as-superlative. This UK title is described thusly: “The centre of Chimera engages with a three-year field research project on the goat-herding practices of the Vlachs, a nomadic people of Northern Greece and the Southern Balkans, who speak their own language. In these poems, day-to-day activities such as shearing and shepherding mix with snippets of conversations, oral tradition and song―locating a larger story in this ancient marriage between humans and animals.”

Aside from being visually arresting, I can’t think of a better visual summary — yet still in keeping with the style of Cicada, the previous title. Awesome.

Cover design by Kelly Winton.

“[F]our generations of Eastern European Jewish women bound by blood, half-hidden secrets, and the fantastical visitation of a shapeshifting stranger over the course of 100 years,” all on a book cover, in a style that’s fresh and colorful with great lettering.

Cover design by Faber. Photograph by Juno Calypso.

Occasionally, a photograph just makes a cover — and this one vaults it to the top. (Sometimes, great book design is as “simple” as selecting great elements.) Part of a series called “the Honeymoon,” it’s absolutely the style of photographer Juno Calypso.

Cover design by Alison Forner. Typography by Andrew Footit.

Never mind the “time travel romance, spy thriller, workplace comedy, and ingenious exploration of the nature of power and the potential for love to change it all” — it’s the oh-so-dimensional title that transcends. (All that other stuff is just a bonus.)

Other 2024 Favorites, in Alphabetical Order
Cover design by Mary Austin Speaker.

“I am unfinished business,” indeed.

Cover design by Nico Taylor.

A-as-eye, shape-as-bird, lines-as-cage: Kafkaesque-as-subtlety. Yet….

Cover design by Emma Rogers.

The paper is perfect, the title interleaved with the water superlative, and the blood, which can absolutely be done into the realm of cliché, drips rather than gushes.

Cover design by Jack Smyth.

The first of five appearances for Jack Smyth — tops this year — this cover speaks to solitude (and cats!) with fantastic expression.

Special Bonus: A 2019 write-up on Smyth at It’s Nice That.

Cover design by Emma Ewbank.

This photographic subject is so strong, yet clearly speaks to the cloudy tenderness within. (Also, title placement.)

Cover design by Helen Yentus.

Another examples of typography-on-the-edge — but, really, the hero on this cover.

Cover design by Johnathan Pelham.

Fantastic title placement (with the perfect hint of wear), complimented by the unusual treatment of the author’s name and pull quote, this cover only hints at the story within yet holds it up.

Cover design by Janet Hansen.

I’ll admit: it’s not immediately clear how this title and cover work together. Yet they do, and it’s not just because of the (male) hand and (female) face — or striking colors — it’s more the representation of reflection, something required in maturity.

Cover design by Chris Bentham.

The rearrange-the-pieces treatment for faces has become a thing, but few do it so well. Special bonus for the selection of photograph for this UK version of the title — and great color choices.

Cover design by Charlotte Stroomer. Photograph by Kelsey Mcclellan.

Another example of the photograph making the cover — but with simply awesome typography, too. (Huge fan of the overall color scheme, too.)

Cover design by Luke Bird.

This UK title shoots to kill, perfect for a story of shooting one’s self in the back. (The Irony Dept. reports that the publisher is Dead Ink, by the way.)

Cover design by Emma Pidsley.

Sticks it to ’em in the most compelling way. (Also: “There are two things that I simply cannot tolerate: feminists and margarine.”)

Cover design by Anna Morrison.

Another UK title, this one counters the too-much-blood thing with fabulous typography and an over-the-top — well, off-the-side, really — crop. (I especially love that the top of the rook’s head just peeks above the yellow.)

Cover design by Olivia Mcgiff.

“Hair-raising,” indeed. (Check out the veins.) The opposite of queer, brown, and fat — and yet, somehow, just right.

Cover design by Oliver Munday.

Few others can express so much with just a line. It sounds like a joke, something that treats the subject with something less than it deserves, but quite literally the lines on this gray background make all the difference.

Cover design by Suzanne Dean. Illusustion by Neue Gestaltung.

Greeks myths, contemporary dystopian narratives — never mind that, it’s the illustration on this cover that gets the “terrifyingly talented” label.

Cover design by Terri Nimmo.

Subversive, surreal, yet “refuses to pander or be pinned down and possessed.” (Also, “Essays.”)

Cover design by Sara Wood. Art by Isabel Emrich.

Real estate agent Lexi senses a drowning, leading to … well, a novel — but it’s the artwork, by painter Isabel Emrich, that carries this cover to the next level.

Cover design by Steve Coventry-Panton.

Minimalism exemplified. While some could argue cliché, I’d argue that it’s the perfect choice: for the weary, for the curious, for this cover.

Cover design by Isabel Urbina-Peña.

The eyes just grab you — “crackle like a bonfire,” to quote one of the reviews. (They were speaking of the text, not the cover, but better words….)

Cover design by Michael Salu.

Simple and geometric, yet story-telling in the finest.

Also, the whole jacket wins. (The bar code space is below “a novel,” by the way.)

Cover design by Ssarahmay Wilkinson. Art by Day Brierre.

Containing short stories set in Lagos, Nigeria, this cover speaks to African roots yet does so in a way that causes both admiration and upset in equal measure. “Brilliant” is overused, but….

Cover design by Gregg Kulick.

“Glorious Exploits,” indeed.

Cover design by Jack Smyth.

It’s, oddly, the UK version of this cover that does it for me: the US version relies on art, while Smyth’s version relies on talent. (Perhaps a metaphor for the bestseller within…?)

Cover design by Alex Merto.

Shades of M*A*S*H, certainly, yet brilliant on its own: lunatics is war.

Cover design by Anna Morrison.

“Playful demotic,” writ large.

Cover design by Olivia McGiff.

“A novel” is King. (Sorry.) Most haunting in exactly the right way.

Cover design by Anna Morrison.

The paper, the lines, all perfect — but it’s the crop that, well, sends it over the top.

Cover design by Robin Bilardello.

Labeled “perfect.”

Cover design by Arsh Raziuddin.

This girl represents the appropriate reaction to an image-based culture, a cut-apart look in the mirror that shouldn’t necessarily be limited to the fashion industry. (That the collage is vaguely heart-shaped probably ins’t a coincidence.) Bonus points for the title repeating around the edge.

Cover design by Oliver Munday.

“In a near-future world addled by climate change and inhabited by intelligent robots called ‘hums,’ May loses her job to artificial intelligence,” the description reads. Yes.

Cover design by Edward Bettison.

The illustration and type work so very well together. (Also, color.)

Cover design by Erik Carter.

Movie poster! (Also, color.)

Cover design by Emily Mahon.

With a title like that, it’s tempting to let it carry the day. Uh … no.

Cover design by Alex Merto.

The pink isn’t in halftone. (Also, the drops of drool.)

Cover design by Adriana Tonell.

A red, red rat is awesome. But it’s the way the green works — in the feet, yes, but especially the type — defines “win.”

Cover design by Arsh Raziuddin.

Not an easy title, handled with absolute skill.

Cover design by Jack Smyth.

“This book is written out of both love and hate for the world.” Nuthin’ but love for the cover from me.

Cover design by Emily Mahon.

Sometimes, the literal approach works. (Pardon the expression.) But it’s the added burn mark that makes it.

Cover design by Dominique Jones.

The red and gold, the title treatment, the complimentary blue ink, and the woman in the “o” are all fantastic. The snake, though, from scales to bite, is superlative.

Cover design by Oliver Munday.

Oooollllliiiiivvvvvveerr! (Two years in a row, even.)

Cover design by Jodi Hunt.

“British and Black, with Jazz and Character” is a tough brief, handled here in a way that makes the title incredibly appealing.

Cover by Linda Huang.

Unusual color choice, eye-catching type, the explanation point! But, of course, it’s the illustration — and the accompanying speech bubbles — that take it to the next level. Bonus points for both the hooves balanced on the “K” and the treatment for the pull quote.

Cover design by Zoe Norvell.

That yellow, the blackletter title and unusually-spaced author play perfect — and curiosity-peaking — supporting roles to that painting. Purity, indeed.

Cover design by Jonathan Pelham.

What’s he pulling on, now? (Also, the title/author treatment.)

Cover design by Daniel Beneworth-Gray based on a concept by Daniel Fresán.

Cropped to perfection.

Cover by Suzanne Dean.

The first of three UK versions in a row: this title lights it up.

Cover design by Tom Etherington.

The US version of this title was in last year’s list, but this UK version is equally strong — in an entirely different way.

Cover design by Kate Sinclair.

Another UK version, another winner. Love the typography. Bonus points for the homemade emoji.

Cover design by Arsh Raziuddin.

All kinds of goodness nested into this one, from the title treatment to the slight fading in the tears (which continue on the back cover).

Cover design by Jon Gray.

From the green to the typography to — especially — the illustration, this cover weaves a tale from 1434 straight into our brains.

Cover design by Adriana Tonello.

The disembodied bits. ’Nuff said.

Cover design by Beth Steidle.

I feel for the rabbit.

Cover by David Drummond.

Speaking of empathy for the animal: this slim volume of poetry is perhaps an all-too-real sign of the times. (The cover, too.)

Cover by Luisa Dias.

Pink Rabbit, slightly dirty: there’s a quality to this that grabs on and won’t let go. (Thankfully, it’s the first in a series….)

Cover by William Ruoto.

The opposite of the above, yet still bloody good at capturing attention.

Cover by Jack Smyth.

1968 called, with the perfect cover original of the moment.

Cover by Zak Tebbal.

“Do a cover on sacrilegious theft,” someone said. Saint Nick brought us a gift.

Cover by Holly Battle.

Hard as one might try, topping this might never be possible.

Cover by Pete Adlington.

This UK title’s cover does so much more than it has any right to. Brilliant. (Bonus points for the grain.)

Cover design by Suzanne Dean. Art by Anton Logov.

Another gem from the less-is-more department. (Also, the paper texture and slight aging on the lettering.)

Cover design by Lynn Buckley. Art by Damilola Opedun.

There’s something about this that just works. Take a moment to read this LitHub intro instead of listening to me.

Cover design by Lucie Kohler.

Overstays … in your brain. Very nearly put this at the top of the pile.

Cover design by Suzanne Dean.

The energy in this cover is fantastic. But it’s what’s under the cover:

Paper art by Nathan Ward. Photos courtesy of LitHub.

The printed cover, too. Awesome.

Cover design by Jenni Oughton. Art by Noah Verrier.

Leaving aside the notion that Americans can recognize a Big Mac on sight, even when idealized/stylized — beautifully — like this, it’s the perfect compliment to this title.

Cover design by Tyler Comrie.

Farcical dystopia, embodied.

Cover design by Tom Etherington.

Unsee the face! (Bonus points for superlative typography.) Battled with Chimera and Rough Trade for one of the top spots.

Cover design and illustration by Vivian Lopez Rowe.

Reflections, indeed. (Also, color.)

Cover design by Sukruti Anah Staneley.

“Prod the bitch that is Life and become her.” These thirteen linked stories demand a cover that leaps off the shelf and grabs you.

Every year, there’s at least one title that so incredibly well illustrates how that notion works here in the US versus in the UK, and this year, it’s this one. I really like the above — the color’s awesome, and those teeth! — and believe it’s exactly right for the US market.

Cover design by Luke Bird. Photography by Graciela Iturbide.

But for the UK market … that photograph. (Bonus points for the title treatment.)

Cover design by Na Kim.

Watercolor perfection. Competed with Chimera and Point Line Plane for the one of the top spots. (I felt only one illustration-against-plain-background cover should be at the top. Might have been wrong.)

Cover design by Jamie Keenan.

The title treatment, the ink author’s name, and the photograph alone would be compelling. But … wow.

Cover design by Amanda Hudson.

From the illustration-makes-it dept. (Bonus points for the not-quite-halves.)

Cover design by Tom Etherington.

Paper and color, oh my.

Cover design by Luke Bird.

Yeah, it’s a cookbook. Who knew? Also:

Quadrille unfortunately didn’t return a request for the photographer’s name.

Bonus points for the fantastic photography within.

Cover design by Sarahmay Wilkins.

This would work perfectly well on the vertical. But it’s so much more this way.

Cover design by Perry De Le Vega.

Definitely amongst the 1%.

Cover design by Jamie Keenan.

Someone chose not to butcher. Except…. (Extra points for the apron strings.)

Cover design by Kelly Winton.

I’m a huge fan of a photorealistic collage, but this, interleaved with the title, defines superlative.

Cover design by Robin Bilardello.

In a world of algorithms, proof that creativity and talent are so very human. (Also, color.)

Cover design by Jaya Miceli.

That awesome green, the color-burned title treatment, the hand lettering, the texture — all add up to top-flight attention-getting. (Bonus points for the entomology illustration/hint.)

Cover design by David Pearson.

The swan’s pose of contemplation, indeed. (Also, color — perfect.)

Cover design by Holly Battle.

We all know a George.

Cover design by Beth Steidle.

So much more than just a pet rabbit. (Also, color.)

Cover design by Suzanne Dean. Illustration by Jialun Deng. Painting by Takaya Katsuragawa.

This cover had me at “uncertain walls.” (See also: End of the World and Hard-Boiled Wonderland.)

Cover design by Jaya Miceli.

Never mind that this shade of yellow seems to be having a moment, let’s talk about that photograph: the goal of any cover is to peak your curiosity. And we have … win.

Cover design by Diego Becas.

A collection, indeed. (Also, color.)

Cover design by Lauren Peters-Collaer.

Ink gets blotted out. (Also, paper.)

Cover design by Jack Smyth.

Never mind the brilliance in the middle — the four pull quotes are, quite literally, the end of the rainbow.

Cover design by Derek Thornton.

Cultural and emotional shifts through technology, as expressed in (cover) art.

Cover design by Oliver Munday.

At the risk of repeating myself, no one does more with less than Oliver Munday: this level of white space deserves an award.

Cover design by Luisa Dias.

The eyes are eclipsed only by the rising magic dust. (Also, screening.)

Cover design by Jonathan Pelham.

Another where the US and UK express things differently; the UK’s, above, is brilliantly simple and simple in its brilliance.

Cover design by Sarah Schulte.

While the US version is more while still “less” in the big scheme of things. A two-fer.

Cover design by Kelli McAdams.

Text blocks do. (Also, awesome art.)

Cover design by Arsh Raziuddin.

Get lost in it. (Also, the article peeking out on the left.)

Cover design by Beth Steidle.

Reflections, torn asunder yet so lovingly smoothed out and preserved for posterity.

Cover design by Tom Etherington.

Two-color, geometric brilliance, given center stage.

Cover design by Ben Prior.

“Self-seeding wind / is a wind of ever-replenishing breath,” the title poem reads, but it’s the cover that drops the ultimate clipping. (Also, placement of “poems,” appropriately.)

Cover design by Jaya Miceli.

“Heavily textured” has never read so well.

Cover design by Alica Tatone.

I’m not sure what the illustration on this cover stands for — desert, sea, paths taken or not, or something I don’t or even can’t understand — and perhaps that’s why this design works on so many levels: an enigma that requires further exploration.

Cover design by Beth Steidle.

Cuddly in just the right way.

Cover design by Kimberly Glider. Illustration by Cory Feder.

“An affair with an arborist could result in a cutting,” I chose not to say. Wait. (Also, the accompanying cover.)

Cover design by Emily Mahon.

Geometry, color, content: this cover’s been promoted to the actual story.

Cover design by Tyler Comrie. Photograph by Matt Eich.

Photograph, texture, photograph, title treatment, photograph. (Also, the subtle shadowing in the author’s name and previous title.) Another very nearly at the top.

Cover design by Kaitlin Kall.

From color to art choice, this is a masterpiece. But those bite marks … aaaah!

Cover design by Holly Ovenden.

Tripping on a quest for a Bomb: yes.

Cover design by Tyler Comrie.

Tripping on a quest for Utopia: yes.

Cover design by Alex Merto.

The eyes, the fur … and the horns. Transcendent.

Cover design by David Mann.

Something not to talk about … yet, so remarkably expressive.

Cover design by Angela Maasalu.

Never mind anything else: it’s the fingernails.

Cover design by Nicole Caputo.

Just when you think these eyes have seen it all…. (Also, the typography.)

Cover design by Alicia Tatone. Art by Shannon Cartier Lucy.

“Dryly witty” describes more than just the text within. (Also, the title treatment … and “Mormon mommy bloggers.”)

Cover design by Mary Austin Speaker.

Surround yourself, feel, and bring great typography.

• • •

A moment of self-criticism, if I may: comparing this year’s list to the 2023 favorites, I can’t help but notice there’s a bit too much of the same. For myself, for my clients, and for my readers, I need to work on being too much inside a comfort zone. (Apparently hypocritically, in the 2023 summary, I commented on “sameism” being a thing.)

Meanwhile, again like last year, I’d like to highlight Dan Wagstaff’s comments over at The Casual Optimist:

recent article on Spine argued that there is a battle between minimalism and maximalism going on. I think that could be true. Different approaches work for different audiences. But I also think it’s messier than that. I get the sense that publishers are less sure of what they want and what sells (certain genres notwithstanding).

It has been a rough year for a lot of publishers, so there is undoubtedly a lot of uncertainty, and no small amount of anxiety. I could go on about why that it is (and the publishing’s self-inflicted wounds) but, in short, what I think we’re also seeing with book covers is more meddling and less direction.

— Dan Wagstaff, The Casual Optimist

I’d read that Spine article, too, and generally agree with their argument that, “This is not just because designers have different ideas about the best way to cut through the noise, but because they are ultimately trying to appeal to two different types of readers. […] It is the designer’s job to know how to grab the attention of the specific readership that the author is trying to reach.”1I have point out: one of their minimalist examples, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This, is a 2025 title already in the favorites folder. Stay tuned.

The buyers that minimalist and the maximalist covers appeal to don’t always overlap. But they do appear next to one another on shelves, actual or virtual. For one just perusing, it’s possible for the volume, whether minimalist or maximalist, to dissolve into noise. Dan’s right to caution.

Thankfully, the designers on this list have battled the committees bent on mediocrity and overcome with great talent, great design, and great perseverance.

My best wishes to them — indeed, all of us — in 2025. It has all the hallmarks of another interesting year.

How this list was compiled

My selections stem from books I’ve seen in person; the “best of” lists from NPR, The Guardian, and the BBC (among others); and the best book cover lists from Spine, The Casual Optimist, BoingBoing, Creative ReviewPRINT, and LitHub. (Shout out to LitHub’s 50 Biggest Literary Stories of 2024, too.) Please check all of those, and enjoy — a great many more outstanding examples of book cover creativity await.

Beautifully Briefed, Thanksgiving Edition (November 2022): Book Sculpture, Architectural Arcades, and Artists Sunday

This time, art from old encyclopedias, architectural art, and an appeal to add art to your post-holiday shopping and giving plans.

Books as Art — In a Different Way

Cara Barer says, “Books, physical objects and repositories of information, are being displaced by zeros and ones in a digital universe with no physicality.  Through my art, I document this and raise questions about the fragile and ephemeral nature of books and their future.”

It’s more than that, though:

As This is Colossal puts it: “With cracked spins and crinkled pages, the manipulated objects reference the relationship between the natural and human-made as they evoke flowers at peak bloom.”

As a book designer, I’m glad that the titles used aren’t something a designers labored over but rather mostly instruction manuals and old encyclopedias. Either way, they’re a beautiful way to make commentary.

See more at her website.

“Photographic escapades in arcades and colonnades”
Liberty Station, San Diego by Keith James

Few scenes set my photographic heart aflutter as does the view down a long covered walkway towards a distant, barely visible vanishing point. As a self-confessed symmetry addict drawn to architectural images in black and white, photographing these vistas scratches a deep creative itch.

Keith James, MacFolios

His article is well-illustrated, informative, and speaks to my heart: I love a good arcade — although, in some cases, I feel like an entry or exit makes the point:

Vassar College Chapel Arcade, September 2021

This is not the first time I’ve admired Keith’s work. His “Architecture Meets Sculpture in Black and White: the Interplay of Light and Form” was great work. Both articles are highly recommended.

Artist Sunday

For those of you in the United States, this weekend is the Thanksgiving holiday. It’s also that most American of traditions: a shopping weekend. I have spent recent years boycotting Black Friday and Cyber Monday, and am encouraged by the emergence of Giving Tuesday. Here’s something to add to that list:

Photographer Chris Sherman developed the concept of “Artists Sunday” in 2019, after noticing a bump in sales on that day in November. “The idea struck,” Sherman told Hyperallergic. “What a great time to patronize artists — during the busiest shopping weekend of the year.” 

In 2020, Sherman launched the project alongside Cynthia Freese, a fellow artist who has also spent extensive time on the boards of arts nonprofits. On a dedicated website, Sherman and Freese provide artists and arts organizations with free marketing materials to promote the event. Now in its third year, over 4,000 artists and more than 600 towns and cities across the country have signed onto the initiative, which takes advantage of special events and partnerships (with nonprofits, individual artists, and businesses) to spread the message.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Architectural Photography 2022 Awards Shortlist

As most of you know, I’m not a huge fan of photography competitions. Like I did last year, though, there’s an exception for this one: not because it’s better than some — there’s still the problem with rights, methods of compensation, etc. — but because it’s so up my alley. (Pun intended.)

If you’ll pardon the cliché, great architectural photography is more than the sum of the building’s parts. These great shots show just that:

Cycling Under the Circles, Berlin, Germany, by Marco Tagliarino (Exterior)
Shapes of Soul, Milan, Italy, also by Marco Tagliarino (Interior)

Entry photographs are divided into six categories: Exterior, Interior, Sense of Place, Buildings in Use, Mobile (with Bridges being this year’s theme), and Portfolio (focusing on the theme of Transport Hubs).

Glass Floor, Tokyo, Japan, by Tom Ponessa (Buildings in Use)
Architecture 1, location not listed (but pretty cool, IMHO), by Stephane Navailles (Bridges)
Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport, China, by Kangyu Hu (Transport Hubs)

There are many more to be enjoyed: ArchDaily has an article and gallery up, and the Guardian has a gallery, too. Enjoy.

The post’s featured photograph, top, is Nest, Dali, China, by Alex Chan, from the Exterior category.

Beautifully Briefed, December 2021: Holiday Edition

Beautifully Briefed, December 2021

It’s the yearly wrap-up and the holiday season! Recap and Rejoice!

Hermès Does Windows

“Journey of a Lifetime” is this year’s window display for Hermès — yes, Hermès should have an accent, but I can’t seem to summon it today fixed! — so let’s go with a picture instead:

Hermes window display

All in paper. No, let me repeat that: it’s all paper. (Well, perhaps some glue.) From artists Zim and Zou. Here’s another, one of their earlier works:

Zim and Zou, previously

Read more at This is Colossal about the window and the church. Nice.

Yule Ogg

While we’re on the subject of the holidays, check this out:

Yule Ogg

That’s right, it’s one of those four-hour Yule log videos — but with a twist. Those are wooden type pieces going up the flame. Check it out, along with the backstory, at It’s Nice That.

Top Architectural Photography Projects

Closing out, we start the year’s “best of” round-ups, this one Dezeen’s top 10 architectural photography projects of 2021:

Soviet (Asia) Photography

Above, Soviet architecture, central Asia, by Roberto Conte and Stefano Perego. Below, Structure Photography by Nikola Olic:

"Poetic" Architecture Photography

The latter is called “poetic,” a description I’d completely agree with. The Mother Road, USA, by Hayley Eichenbaum (previously mentioned) is there, too. Enjoy.

That’s it until after the holiday. Around the first, stay tuned for my favorite book designs of 2021 and more. Take care!

Beautifully Briefed: Icons and Typography, Mid-June, 2021

Three items for you here, starting off with the 2021 Logo Trend Report, from the Logo Lounge. From the Asterisk to Electric Tape, Quads, Chains, and more:

2021 Logo Trend Report

Bill Gardner discusses all fifteen different trends, with logos to back ’em up (naturally).

Next, “A Cabinet of Curiosities” from Hoefler & Co.

Printers once used the colorful term ‘nut fractions’ to denote vertically stacked numerators and denominators that fit into an en-space. (Compare the em-width ‘mutton fraction.’)

This is beautiful:

Dutch Curio, H&Co

A Dutch curio, representing the letters z-i-j.

Read all of the rest.

Lastly, these are amazing . . . and simple, the better form of “simply amazing.” Yeah:

111 Shadow

See the rest at This is Colossal.

Happy June!

In Stitches (of CMYK)

In “XXXX Swatchbook,” Evelin Kasikov explores all of the variables of CMYK printing without a single drop of ink. She catalogs primary, secondary, and tertiary colors, two-dozen combinations showing how rotation affects the final pigment, and a full spectrum of rich gradients. In total, the printing-focused book is comprised of four base tones, 16 elements, and 400 swatches of color entirely hand-embroidered in 219,647 stitches.

Six years. Six years.

More @ Colossal.

Inside Hook on Peter Mendelsund and book design

In fact, for all his acclaim in the field of book design, Mendelsund himself isn’t particularly fond of book covers, generally seeing them as an impediment that inevitably colors a reader’s perception of a book. “As much as I love book covers — I love making them, it’s fun — I don’t love the fact that there’s somebody between me and the text.”

These days, actually, the renowned book designer who never wanted to be a book designer tends to simply rip the covers off his books altogether. “If it’s a paperback, I’ll rip the cover off,” he says. “The books that are most important to me in my life don’t have covers on them.”

I didn’t know Peter Mendelsund’s name off the top of my head [Memory not what it used to be? —Ed.], but we’re sure familiar with his work, such as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and the Atlantic’s recent redesign. And what an interesting relationship with book design he has. Read more

The New Website and Foreword Blog

Back in the ’90s and Aughts, my ex-wife and I ran a popular book design blog called Foreword. For a variety of reasons, from divorce to moving to Georgia and then deciding to do photography full-time, I got away from it. I even let the company name, ospreydesign, get away from me.

I’ve been seriously regretting losing Foreword for a while now — and its return one of the driving reasons for the new web site. Part of that has to do with a return to book design, and wanting to comment on the same, but also because I don’t do social media and have wanted a space to talk about — and get feedback on — items to do with book design, photography, and so much more. There’s no place better than your own web site. Thus, Foreword is back, this time as part of my personal site: gileshoover.com.

Memory Lane

Here’s what ospreydesign looked like way back when:

ospreydesign as of February, 2001

The site evolved, but only to a point — those were the days of having to pay attention to screen width. Remember: 15-17-inch screens were the new hotness; 13-inch was more normal. (Hence the small layout.) There was something comforting about it, though, and this look preserved for years. Here’s another screenshot:

ospreydesign’s home page, as of January, 2007

Foreword, a relatively new item called a weblog, or blog, was both a vehicle of discussion and publicity. And it worked — this little blog grew and gained followers, basically riding the early “wave” of blogs.

Here it is from 2005:

Foreword in March, 2005

The “look” changed shortly after, while the popularity continued to grow. Here’s another, from fourteen months later:

Foreword‘s new, wider-columned look, from June, ’06

At this point, Foreword was at its utmost; thousands of readers, #1 in a Google search for “book design,” pretty much everything — and I, quite frankly, decided to throw it all away.

The Photography Era

Changing my priority to photography full-time was both awesome and a completely mixed bag. I absolutely loved the instant results of digital photography, and enjoyed the possibilities of editing them; filters, textures, black and white, and more. The creativity was more immediate, as well, in that I was my own “editor,” for lack of a better term, not answering to as many people as designing books can be.

Making money was more difficult than with book design, but somehow more exciting; in many ways, it’s a performance art — I had to get it right at the time (there are no redos — events move on!), then make it better in the edit. But, I quickly found that weddings and events were not my strong suit. Like many making a profession out of a passion, I too often clashed with the “vision” thing; what I wanted to do — architecture, landscapes, “things” more than people — wasn’t what you made money on.

Maine Schooners, 2009

Worse, I was ahead of an extremely powerful wave: photography as something ubiquitous. With the rise of everything from a flood of new folks doing photography full-time to practically everyone “being” a photographer with just their cell phone, there was absolutely no way I could make the success out of it that I could have had I just stayed with book design first and photography second. Sure, I still did book design — I was early in the photography book genre — but photography as a career proved unsustainable.

Lesson learned.

New Memories

So, book design is again what I describe my profession as, with photography back to being a passion instead of a full-time job, and Foreword has returned. I’m better for it, frankly; so, hopefully, will my readers, as we can again share my love book design — along with why I’ve returned to it full-time.

Having a blog again also gives me a chance to talk about design, book production, photography and how they’ve changed in the intervening years, and recommit myself to regular posting; something I’ve missed and hope others have, too.

Welcome back.