It’s strange how my book didn’t seem real until I woke up this morning.
Because thanks to my gorgeous and talented husband, Mr. H, Nola Fran Evie has an outfit…a cover.
I compare the cover not to clothes—something we throw onto our bodies when we are in a hurry or something we are sick of because we wear it incessantly.
No, no. I’m talking about the artistic precision it takes to create an entire outfit to capture an essence.
My story is a living, breathing person to me. In this case with three main characters, there was a unique trio of women to dress, which is no easy task.
An outfit is a look that pulls everything together. It cloaks the physical body of the pages. It hints at every curve of emotion hiding within the words. It expresses the mood and even the very definition of the characters.
A book without a cover is a naked soul. Not an exhibitionist but a demure being who is fragile, in need of that protective shell which accentuates what lies beneath without giving everything away.
So, I can rest easy.
My story is a little less vulnerable today. My story is dressed. My story is now a book.
NOLA FRAN EVIE releases one week from tomorrow…July 22.