Mind Games

Young Billy has a lot on his mind. Literally. And we all know what boys have on the brain, don't we, nudge nudge, wink wink?  But Billy is different. His mild-mannered sensitivity doesn't fit this gross generalization. The reveries that emanate from his neatly coiffed helmet head represent a paragon of wholesomeness. Captured in his great big thought balloon is the sweet, maternal tenderness embodied by a Madonna and Child. Either that or the illustrator cleverly worked a Venn Diagram into the design, one which supports an abstinence-only agenda by showing what may happen when a boy and a girl...ahem...overlap. Damn ambiguous book cover!   

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid (Road) Test

Would you believe me if I told you this book is about a kid whose delusional dad dreams of becoming a wrestling superstar? Yeah, me neither, because the only association with wrestling in this illustration would have to be the title, right? So I'm going to imagine a different story... the story of "Half" Nelson and his buddy "Full" Nelson on a psychedelic joyride through the highways, byways and extremely elevated overpasses of America. The ones with the teeny tiny guard rails and distracting tropical birds. Tropical birds...Um, guys? I think you made a wrong turn. Onto a monorail. Yep, I thinks that's what happened. A little birdie told me.

Oh, my aching head!

Oh, God, no... not again. Not another migraine. Ugh, I can feel it coming on, feel those demons cavorting on my cranium. But that doesn't really describe the agonizing ache - feels more like pins pushing through my pineal gland or...or...(fuck, this hurts) thorns thrusting through my thalamus. Or serpents slithering through my cerebellum.  Oh, sweet bejeebus, make it stop! It feels like ballerinas pirouetting en pointe and executing perfect arabesques on my parietal lobe. Yes, that's what it is! Tiny dancers dashing my desire to live. I... need... relief!

Note to my readers: If you go here, I promise your head will stop hurting from all those nasty links :)

This is how it's done

The following is a handy dandy guide to the components that make up a superbly lame 1980's YA cover illustration:  (You can thank me later)

1) Disembodied heads floating amid a neutral background. Extra special lameness if one of the heads is a geeky kid with thick glasses just waiting for you to get undressed. (please cover book before getting into your jammies, girls)

2) Obsolete technology

3) Random grouping of lilliputians

4) Giant central character in a seemingly catatonic state. Extra points if she's so out of it she's neglected her hair. (Girlfriend, break out the conditioner!) 

Combine all elements, slap on an ominous title and finish with a tri-named author. Voila! You have a young adult masterpiece, moldering in the stacks of a time-traveling library near you!