am beginning to see how Julie's and my personalities come through in the different ways we blog and in our choices of subject matter. After Julie's very thoughtful and themed Thursday post about covers on books about civil rights, I (C.) bring you this post, in which I've chosen to highlight an olio (crossword puzzle word) of some very silly book covers and other curious design-related things I've come across recently. Truly, we move from the sublime (Julie) to the ridiculous (moi).
For example, how about that capital "I" at the beginning of this post, huh? The big illuminated letter at the beginning of a manuscript is known as a "versal" (which I just learned and now you did, too). You can get free ones to use on your own blog at the Daily Drop Cap.
Here's a(n undoubtedly very important and instructive) book about nostrils, which comes from Curious Pages, a most awesome blog:
The Curious Pages masthead image is the cover of Struwwelpeter, the ever-charming, ever-frightening children's book of cautionary tales, which alone illustrates what the blog's focus is. Subversive. Here's another cover they dug up for us on that blog, The Man Who Lost His Head by Claire Huchet Bishop and Robert McCloskey, 1942:
Gah!!!! Mommy, why? Don't let Ouack, Nack, and the rest see that.
A little off-topic, but so cool-->This site boasts an archive of every known cover ever made of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds from 1898 through 2009. Here's one I especially liked:
This article from The Spectacle delves into why some covers, The Gollywhopper Games by Jody Feldman (HarperCollins/Greenwillow) for example, undergo several changes over the course of their lives. It's not particularly silly or curious, except that I know some of us are curious about why covers are changed. (Did you see that? Did you see how I changed the meaning of curious? Gosh, I'm awesome sometimes.)
Oh, I love that cover. I would have double-loved it when I was a kid. Colorful and full of life.
In conclusion, there is a question going through my mind about blog post conclusions. Are they expected? Or can we get away with just beginnings and middles?