A Book's Cover: Art, Intuition, Destiny

Book Covers: Art, Intuition and Destiny

“It’s beautiful.”

This is usually followed by:

“I love it.”

For people who know about the story within the Brain Dance book, another comment is almost universal:

“It’s perfect.”

I totally agree and feel so grateful. I have never loved a piece of art more than that on the cover of Brain Dance. It’s by Duy Huynh.

The story of how this lovely woman’s face came to grace the front jacket of a medical memoir on brain injury, recovery, and applied neuroscience has some curious coincidences.

So I’ll begin:

A Book Cover is More than Meets the Eye

Near the weary last stages of writing, editing, and more editing, my writer friend Melanie Weller and I were texting back and forth about the progress each of us was making. She’s a physical therapist and intuitive, and her work is on the vagus nerve. The draft of her book cover is so perfect. It’s a profile of a person as a jigsaw puzzle and illustrates the missing pieces we can have in our health that keep us sick.

I was toying with a cover option for Brain Dance, and I wanted Melanie’s opinion. It had been a long journey to get to the point of having something that felt right. I so wanted to be done with all of it.

The cover of a book is crucial from both the personal and public sides. Personally, it’s so grounding if it feels like a fit. And, from the outside, we hope to represent the story or at least pique the curiosity of the potential reader. A picture really is worth even more than 1,000 words.

Unfortunately, I know what it’s like to not have this fit or feel good. It can be life-changing for the author and the book. My first book is a guide to the underbelly of a career transition — the part people only tell their coaches and therapists. The purpose of the book was to share my wish of having my 1:00 client hear my 3:00 client’s session. I always felt like if my clients could hear each other, they would not feel so alone and self-critical. You know, feeling worthless, kind of crazy, and like they will never find a job. Ever.

My publisher shared options for the cover, and one was perfect. It was of a big comfortable red-fabric sofa-like chair next to an end table, and on it, a small lamp was glowing. The image conveyed the refuge you would hope for someone faced with uncertainty. Through no fault of her own, my publisher lost her book distributor just before my book was to be released. The new distributor strongly suggested a more industrial cover and changing the title from Emotional Unemployment to Back in Control. I can imagine my publisher not having much leverage at that point and perhaps also thinking their direction could be better.

For me, especially as a first-time author, it was like my baby’s face had been changed. I wrote the book with the title Emotional Unemployment in mind, and it was changed to Back in Control. In the contract we had, the discretion of the title was my publisher’s.

Anyway, within months, I saw a picture almost identical to the cover image I loved on some marketing for Starbucks coffee. Throughout the following year and even now, the large comfy chair pops up in ads. It’s understandable since, in life and career transition, all of us yearn for comfort and safety. I am grateful my first book was published, but I sometimes still have a moment when I see this picture.

Enter Duy Huynh

In our messaging that night, Melanie surprised me: “You should have real art on your cover.”

And, shortly after that: “This is your cover,” sending a copy of Duy Huynh’s exact picture.

I was not as happy as you might have guessed. My first thought was: “Could you please look at what I just put together? It took me so long to get to this point.”

Melanie: “I just found this, and it’s perfect.”

Me: “No! I can’t fall in love with a piece of art I will never get to have on my book cover since I need permission. It will take forever and be horribly expensive to secure. It will be like another rabbit hole I can fall into.”

Melanie: “Just look at it, though.”

I let myself see it and, of course, fell in love. I could not imagine anything else for the cover. I was in the risky place I didn’t want to be.

Over that weekend, I obsessed with learning all I could about the artist, seeing his art all over the Internet tastefully sold but being represented by a studio he co-owns with his wife Sandy called Lark & Key in North Carolina. I learned he has been an artist since he was a very young child. Creating art has been his therapy as well as his gift. In the 1980s, he and his family had come over from Vietnam as “boat people” escaping the North Vietnamese rule after the war.

That was such a curious detail since after college, I was a volunteer “cultural buffer” for a Vietnamese family who came over similarly. I loved this kind, beautiful, intelligent family and had the great pleasure of answering questions only someone from another land would have, like: “What is ketchup?” Together, we were a visually interesting collection since they were very delicate and petite, between 4’10” and 5’2”. I am a healthy 5’9”. I felt a huge protective kinship and loved them.

As I shared Duy Huynh’s art image with other friends on social media, two noted they had prints of his work. His style is whimsical, colorful, thoughtful, and sensitive.

Desperate, knowing that he was a real person alive now, I sent notes to him and the gallery to query if this particular image was available for the new book cover.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait too long, and Duy’s wife, Sandy Snead, got back to me. She said his work may be available, but first, they had a series of questions for me. Without hesitation, I sat down and typed up the answers, including the proposed use of his art, my project (which will eventually include an e-book, audiobook, and, hopefully, a workbook.) I also told him how our paths were potentially, although distantly, entwined. I also sent him and Sandy a draft copy of Brain Dance. I made it clear this was a decision of destiny and the heart, and I would only use his work with great respect.

Later, I reflected my application probably made zero business sense. One doesn’t negotiate for permission and, especially, a leasing fee by saying it’s the only thing they could ever imagine wanting. Any seller in the world would be inclined to add zeros to the price at that point — almost any.

After about a week, Sandy responded that Duy approved the application and said he would be honored. She quoted me a reasonable fee and sent a business agreement to sign. She also said they hadn’t read my whole book, but they were impressed by what I did in explaining why this would be a great fit and how I would respect his art. Okay, I did have a slight impression I overdid it a little by creating additional sections to their questionnaire and answering them, and sending my entire book.

The Face of Brain Dance

I love artists and art; I want people to know Duy Huynh and his story, and certainly, there is more to learn. Our hearts and minds are nourished by beautiful images and the love, thought, and essential humanness that go into creating them. We can feel good art. It touches our soul. It speaks to us in ways beyond our conscious awareness. Art functions on a plane that connects us like through my intuitive friend, the memoir of my injury, second chances and hope, and work that serves as therapy for a gifted man with a rich past. Thank you, Duy Huynh, for creating Brain Dance’s face and all the beautiful art you make.

In this phase of our publishing process, while I wait for Brain Dance at the printer, I carry the final proof, a real hard copy of the book. I need to get used to her being done, moving out of my heart and head into this tangible form. I set her on the sofa with me when I’m there working on my laptop or watching TV. I’m getting used to this integration of words, visual image, destiny, and hope that she will help people. It is a new presence, and yet, when I catch her out of the corner of my eye, part of me knows her. She is familiar, and it feels like she has always been there. It’s a good feeling.

To learn more about:

- Duy Huynh and his art see www.DuyHuynh.com  www.larkandkey.com

- Brain Dance www.BrainDanceBook.com