I’m on the lookout for a cover concept. The Gribble’s Eye is “draft-ready” but we’re still working up the 50+ illustrations: 25 done, 25 more to do. This is the story of a teenage girl and her 20-something tutor and a couple of Greek myths who serendipitously team up to fight the minions of Chaos. The story takes place in northeast England and Scotland (Series #1).
(If anyone would like to volunteer as a beta reader — Widowcranky was gracious enough to have read it thus far — let me know.)
The covers (two so far) have sucked. I’m just not getting the idea-waves blasting through. This was the first cover (Yulian drew it and I hacked at it with crayons (photoshop) — but who could tell):
The second cover, both Widow and Yulian shot down with a .50 cal. BAR.
So, ideas? Live action YA covers seem popular these days (a photo with scenery/costumes later touched up with dramatic light/shading/text).
I’m open to any suggestions.
Third effort. This one after I discussed the options with the artist and Phil H. So, I went out back and with a hammer and screwdriver and chiseled an eye into the patio concrete. Then I found a blue sapphire marble on the net and copied it in with editing and such. It’s a first pass effort. But I think this might work.
Much of the mind is dedicated to pattern matching: cerebral, visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory cortexes and subsystems which load and store and recall patterns. Our life as modern humans rely on these facilities to navigate and work our world.
When you exhaustively tax such systems, you know the feeling, there are a few simple things you can do to recharge your brain-battery. One of those is the application of chaos.
Have you ever wondered why a campfire, a day at the beach, a walk through a forest can be so rejuvenating? I’m coming to believe that by applying chaos to our sensory inputs we overload our pattern matching engines. When this happens, our brains give up and quit trying to find patterns, for a time.
When this happens the transfer of signals between our cortexes and our hippocampus, back and forth, slows and this slowing is soothing to us. We quit trying to cram more patterns from our world through our eyes and ears and fingers (and nose and tongue too, I suppose). When our brain stops trying to decode patterns, because there are none — chaos is by definition patternless — we allow our long term memories to sift and settle. Nothing new is being added or processed so we get to enjoy a little downtime.
And chaotic downtime can help reinvigorate our minds in anticipation of our return to a day or week of intense pattern matching.
[Alexa: Play campfire sounds. Alexa: Play ocean sounds. Alexa: Play forest sounds.]