how to draw words.

how i conceptualized the cover for my own book.

it’s not a secret: creating for others can be difficult. trying to get into the crevices of their brain in which an image exists and extracting the emotions and forming the words to describe the feelings they wish to evoke in a picture can be an arduous process. and there is no set formula. everyone is unique, and it takes learning how to speak the language of one’s mind to find success.
what i’ve found to be even more difficult is to create for yourself. whether it’s creating a book cover, a website for your work, or a profile (maybe this resonates if you’ve had to write an “about the author” caption before. how can you possibly sum up yourself or your writing in a single paragraph?)
not only do you have that pressure of showing your worth to others, you also have this feeling of finality in knowing that what you share needs to fully encompass who you are to complete strangers. something that can be both sweet and connective can become the heaviest burden.

i’m not sure why, but conceptualizing a cover for my own book was one of the most trying things that i have ever crafted.
a bit of info on my book for those who may be unfamiliar with it:
in 2022, i published my book, thin spaces, with a hybrid publisher and lovingly packaged each copy and mailed them all over north america (and a couple to the uk). in februay of 2024, i released a second edition of the book, self-publishing with amazon kdp (which i highly recommend and will likely write more about in the future).
the book explored this celtic idea of “thin spaces” which are sacred spaces in the world in which the veil between this world and the next are so thin that you can almost reach out and touch the divine. i explored this concept in the context of my own life story and events, sharing ways in which i experienced these thin spaces in the day-to-day seemingly mundane moments. at the end of each chapter, i had included an illustration that corresponded with the topic or story that was shared. these illustrations poured out of me. i had no hesitancy in sharing the imagery that was tied so tightly to the words that i had written. it was effortless.

but… i put so much unnecessary pressure on myself for the book cover.
at the onset of writing this book, i wanted thin spaces to be such a unique user experience. i wanted someone to see it sitting on a table at barnes and noble, and have it stand out from the rest. i wanted a reader to scoop it up, feel the matte cover, the soft satin laminated pages, admire the illustrations, the prose layout that it was written in, and be intrigued by the fact that the book came with a qr code to a playlist. i had to stick to my vision. and without that perfect cover, i would have nothing.

the original concept for the book cover was something like this (i don’t have an actual mock up, so you might have to use your imagination a bit): a white background, with a very thin line that ran horizontally across the front and back cover with a very tiny sans serif font that read “thin spaces”, with the lettering spaced out across the span of the cover. simple. i wanted to mimic the minimalist branding style that apple uses.

this was being conceived at a very tumultuous time of life. in late 2019, my wife and i began to feel a very strong pull to move to a new city with our two children. our hometown was the only city that we had ever known, and for many reasons, we needed something new and a fresh start. i had worked at my current job for 12 years and began to seek out transfer opportunities. we weren’t sure where we wanted to land, other than to stay in the proximity of western canada to visit family when we could. as 2020 progressed, and then that whole covid thing happened (not to use that as a crutch of any sort) and our plans to move were temporarily put on hold. suddenly, a job transfer opportunity presented itself in may, in a city that was a 4 hour drive away- a city that i had traveled to for work and loved, but my family had never been to. my transfer was accepted, we listed our house for sale, and i was to start my new job at the beginning of july.
well, guess what? our house didn’t sell. as the pandemic blossomed (probably not the right word to use), the momentum with real estate came to a halt. i was in a position where i had to move away from my wife and 2 children for the unforeseeable future. due to the pandemic, there was literally nowhere for me to live with a short term rental. no one wanted a stranger living in their spare bedroom who might bring home a rampant virus. i had a sole option: live in a hotel until our house could sell and we could purchase something in our new city. i planned on being in the hotel for a month at most.
it took 3 additional months for our house to sell. i lived alone in a hotel room for 3 months. in a city in which i didn’t know anyone. and no one wanted to know me- primarily because everyone stayed trapped in their houses because of the unknown of what 2020 could bring. every few weeks, my wife and kids would drive up and spend the weekend in the hotel with me. on occasion, i would travel back to our city to spend time with them. all in all, it was incredibly lonely and eventually led to a lot of therapy. oh yeah, i forgot to mention: i don’t drive. i haven’t had a driver’s license in close to 20 years because of my epilepsy (that’s another story for another day- or you could read thin spaces and learn more there :) - that was shameless plug #1). therefore, when i say i felt trapped- i was really trapped. i could only travel as far as my two legs would carry me.

one of the illustrations that i drew in the hotel room- counting the days.

i tried to journal and to write chapters in my book to process the emotions that i was experiencing in this empty season of life. but, the only outlet that served me was through my art. no words needed.
on one of the visits back to my hometown during this uncertain waiting period, i was sitting at the dining table at my mother in law’s house, and began to illustrate my emotions. this feeling of being trapped within worlds, desperate, with no end in sight. i drew this character with his skin being pulled away, a portion of his skull remaining, because that’s exactly how i felt: i was slipping back and forth between emotions, homes, being swept away in a decision that i had contrived and with unexpected implications. this illustration became so heavy and such an important part of my life that i printed it out and put it on the bulletin board at my desk at work. something that i seldom do: print out my own digital artwork.
one day, as i was staring at it on my lunch break, i realized that this was my book cover and it was staring back at me. and it was me slipping in between this world and the next- literally my theme of thin spaces, and the skull being revealed represented the authenticity that i shared in the book- the things that no one ever sees until i am vulnerable enough to share it with them.
i made the decision not to include a title on the front cover. i wanted the illustration to speak for itself. it didn’t need words to distract. it just needed to simply be.

rough draft of thin spaces cover

even writing this now, i can see how that time period of my life was a thin space in itself. had it not been for this move and living in a hotel for months, i never would have had the newfound appreciation for time spent with my family, or had the space and time to fall back in love with illustrating because i was alone in a hotel for hours at a time, or even gotten back into therapy to process this (for the record, i think that therapy is a wonderful thing, and if you are able to attend, i think that everyone should go and the stigma attached to it needs to change. and maybe reading a book like what i wrote will help process some of the heavy :) shameless plug #2).

the most difficult book cover that i have ever had to create was my own. and it came in a moment in which i stopped searching for it. i wasn’t focused on writing my book during that period of uncertainty, but that’s exactly when it needed to be born.
this lesson really applies to all areas of our lives: if you feel stuck, maybe it’s time to try something new, different, and walk away for a bit. whether it’s writer’s block, making decisions in your relationships, or general burn out: don’t stop trying, but take a break. things fall into place. they are usually messy and not what we expect. but, trust the process of your life. things will happen.
i believe that for me and i believe that for you.

if you would like to read my book, you can check it out on amazon here. and if you do, please let me know what you think. not to inflate my ego, but because i want to know where you are at in your own journey and maybe i can help provide a semblance of encouragement along the way.

*a note: i completely scrapped the original post that i wrote to share on this experience. as i was writing, the words pouring out of me took a profound turn as i had this epiphany wash over me. it was lucid, therapeutic. there were hidden emotions and thoughts that i had tucked away in compartments of my mind that i wasn’t ready to open yet. well, here they are. and that’s why i wanted to share with you the version of this that was the most true and vulnerable of what i experienced. because, we need more of that. vulnerability is what will save us all.