As our publisher was designing the cover for our book, we put in a request. We'd like a duck on the cover. No Duck, we were told. As we dusted ourselves off, our editor came back and said the design department had agreed to put a duck on the spine of the book. We rejoiced! Here and there, Roy would mutter about the duck. Remind them, don't let them forget about the duck. As the cover was finalized and the galleys were finished, we received a note from our beloved editor. Are you sure? Of course! People will think you are quacks. But we're not quacks, anyone who reads our book will know that. Roy was convinced that it would add to the idea that this isn't just another dry reference textbook, it's an easy to read, ducky kind of book. I thought a little duck would be fine. Our editor sent the picture of "our duck:Now let me tell you.
I did not like this duck.
I did not like this duck at all.
The duck had long lashes, looked way too happy for a psychiatry book, and looked like a toddler's bath toy. We're shrink rappers, but we don't squeak! Oh, and we're not quacks.
Here is the duck I wanted. Very small, very subtle. Think of the penguin logo for Putnam Books.
Only think of it as a duck. Here is the duck I wanted. Our editor agreed, I think, that it was a better duck:
And happy with our duck (though ClinkShrink thought the first duck with the flirty eyelashes was fine)... I get an email from the marketing department. It is a very serious email about how well they think our book will do, and how packaging is important to the overall product. The upshot: there will be no duck. Our opinions were not wanted, the duck was gone, it was a done deal.
Oh, the duck would have been just fine....