How GetCovers Changed My Life

Note: The title of this is not to grab attention... it's just true. 

There are likely only two reasons that you’re here, finding this post: either you know me or my books and you’re curious in a personal sense, or you somehow came across this due to the subject. I’m going to try my best to get across as much information as possible in both aspects. Be warned if you don’t already know... Brevity is not my forte. And this post is extremely personal.

There’s a big point that some of you might know, but some of you might not. That big point?

Self-publishing is hard.

There are some people—even close to me—that didn’t or don’t know that I self-publish. I’m proud that I do. When I started out writing books, I didn’t give much thought to the publishing aspect at first; I was just trying to write a book I would want to read. It was only when one book turned into a six-book series that I started putting much thought into publishing. But it was almost immediately after finishing the first series that the inspiration for Reave came to me, and that one? That one was special, different.

My first series, I look at as ‘training wheels’. Over half a million words of practice, learning what to do and not, making so large a mess there was no hope to ‘salvage it’.... It can only be allowed to be as it is and remain where and as it is. Mine.

Reave and its series was when PUBLISHING became a serious thing for me, and it was when the first of the ‘dreams’ started slipping through. Now, as a naïve, doe-eyed young lady, I had mental images of traditional publishing, having an agent, fancy covers that were each a work of art, so on.

When I realized that having a publisher means you sign over rights to your book, things began crashing down on me.
When I realized that signing over your rights meant that someone could go behind you and change things to make it more ‘marketable’...?

My dream changed.

I wouldn’t normally say this, but the truth?
The truth is that old dream was killed dead after I had an editor try to change a character’s eye color, for some reason, not knowing that doing so was destroying an integral part of connectivity to make sense of something later, and realizing that, had it been done through traditional publishing, I might’ve ended up in a situation of someone creating wrongness that I couldn’t stop them from doing.

One tiny thing being changed could absolutely destroy something.

That was when I learned a very, very invaluable piece of knowledge. No one knows your work like you do, and allowing someone else to put their hands on what comes out of your spirit can not only destroy it. It can destroy your voice. Giving someone control over your voice can silence you completely.

This is not me preaching about any way of publishing or not. This is the path I took to get here, and it’s how I feel with my own life. So, self-publishing it was.

Little did I know what I was getting myself into! No matter how much research you do, this is one of those things like learning to swim. You’ve got to eventually get in the water after learning what it’s like in theory, and when you do, it’s what seems and feels like endless splashing around while getting nowhere!

And I had no idea it would/could take not a small fortune but a VERY large one.

Recuperating the cost of cover art and editing for Reave back then... I don’t want to get into that!

Little by little, though? New dreams start to die, like being strangled to death with reality very slowly. So, the altered dream of having a lot of readers, just taking a different path to get there than initially hoped, it slowly turns into...

I JUST HOPE SOMEONE FINDS MY BOOK AND LOVES IT.

And yet there are some things that no amount of pressure or damage can kill off completely.

I still have the same dreams, just—honestly—feel something like having had a canyon carved out inside of myself. And I’m not complaining. I’m doing the opposite thing. I’m grateful, because I appreciate every single thing more deeply and acutely than I would had things come any easier. (Watching (literal) pennies of page reads accumulate into a dollar can really give you a beautiful perspective on how much value one person spending their day with your words actually has. Each page matters, each reader matters, A LOT. This is a digression from the subject, though.)

When life changed and releasing all (or most of) (or part of) the books I’d accumulated writing over more than a decade came about as a possibility, I was hit with a feeling of the cost would be astronomical.

The solution?

I would do it my dang self.

Little did I know that this is about hats and funds.... You either have to have many fancy hats in your repertoire or an endless stack of cash.

I’m not a hat person! But necessity is what it is, when it is. (And I don’t have even one singular stack of cash, if I’m being honest. Definitely no plurals.)

So, being an author, a writer of books turned into a wearer of many hats (while not being a hat person).

I am now a marketer (who hates speaking and being noticed, and more than both hate drawing attention to myself purposely), an advertiser (I feel there’s a difference between the two), an accountant (who hates math), a formatter (who does love ‘nitpicking’ but hates messing with files and computers), a graphic designer (with essentially no artistic skills) for advertising, and a cover designer. And that goes along with the hats I already had, which are/were editor (my favorite) and researcher (absolutely NOT my favorite).

I see often in author biographies things about people having grown up telling stories. That wasn’t me. Nothing ever came out of my mouth unless it was true and real—something I’ve held to my whole life, with the only exceptions being situations when young that made me realize just how much I despise untruth as a whole more than I already knew I did. I never had imaginary friends. I never had imaginary anything. The closest I came was playing the card game ‘War’ with a round of stuffed animals, not imagining they were playing, but just not feeling right with the cards not having someone represent them, I guess. I had a ‘bead drawer’ when little. I didn’t make things with those beads. I would dump out the bead drawer, sort the beads, and then put them all back. Repeat the process.

I say that to say I am not a creative person, nor am I imaginative at all. That might sound extremely strange for an author to say. If you’ve never heard me say it, how I feel is that I’m telling people’s stories as truly and accurately as I’m capable of. I don’t look at it as ‘making up a story’. I look at it more as there being beads in the drawer, and I have to make sense of how all the things go together. I also look at it more as a therapist might work through someone’s issues.

And I’m saying this to say... I AM NOT ARTISTIC. Art, in school, was almost as hard for me as math, only not as misery-inducing, just unhappiness-inducing. I enjoyed it more than some other classes, but it wasn’t really ‘fun’ for me like I think it is for most kids. It was constant disappointment and discouragement with myself. They say, ‘There’s no wrong way to do art.’ That does not compute with me. There IS a wrong way to do art, and it was all I was capable of doing. Art, done badly.

I loved coloring. (Still do, although I rarely do it.) Not because I liked being creative. I liked staying within the lines. Trying to find the right colors? Even when young, it would stress me beyond anything I would feel comfortable sharing. But staying within lines?

Sweet, sweet relief.

(Until you get this much ( ) outside one.)

Learning to do my own covers was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do in my life. It was like learning a new language that your mouth just can’t get right no matter how hard you try. And it wasn’t just the creative aspect; it was also that I am borderline technologically inept.

That’s not saying I didn’t at times have fun. But it was oddly very much like being in art class—constant dissatisfaction. And yet the moments where I could ‘complete the assignment’ in a way that I found ‘passable’? Absolute elation!

But it would still creep in on me—this feeling of I wish it could be better. That feeling is something like a closest friend in life who you know is in some ways bad for you in the soul, but they keep you striving for your best. With my writing, I still feel that way, and it at times tears me apart. With the writing, though, I feel it’s far closer to within my means as a person to get where I’d like to be. Both are different ‘languages’, but it’s the difference between making something beautiful with the beads in the drawer and separating them into piles that make sense.

I have spent the last two and a half years messing with files. Formatting on a computer that DOES NOT COOPERATE and making covers, messing with file types, and nitpicking where lines should go.

I have been absolutely freaking MISERABLE.

Last year, I had some medical things. But I also had some spiritual things, in part pertaining to this misery and in part due to feeling my dream was being strangled to death. I needed some time. And I needed some hope.

The path to how I first contacted GetCovers is actually a lot funnier than one would think, but it’s more personal than I would prefer to share. But it, ultimately, comes down to the person you love most being able to have a moment of, ‘I told you so,’ only it never comes out of their mouth. And you saying, ‘Yep! You were right again!’ regardless.

I’ve heard I don’t know how many times since starting this process... I thought you liked the covers you did.

I did. I’m proud as all get-out about what I was able to do. But the simple fact of the matter is that I did my own covers not because I wanted to and not because I enjoyed it (even if I did get some enjoyment out of it). I did them myself because I had to. In order to get the books out for people to read them... I had to.

Over the last couple of years, it’s been... Only say you can’t do something when you actually can’t turning into just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.

2024 is/was the first year since 2010 that I haven’t written a book, or at the very least finished one that I’d previously been working on. The first year in almost a decade and a half.

When I ‘took my break’ from blogging a decade or so ago, it was supposed to only be for a couple of months. I didn’t go back to it. Because talking to people is something beyond hard for me, and the time-suck of it in general was hard for me, and before I knew it, I was doing everything but working on books. It was basically filling the cup of yourself with something poisonous to you, then before you know it... All of the good of you and the joy is gone, because it was drained and replaced.

The same thing happened here, only not with social work things. It was this never-ending stream of I can’t write until I get this thing or that thing done, and I’m at least probably six months off from that thing even if everything goes smoothly. I’ve only released half of half of my written books at this point. I know that sounds weird, but it’s half of the ones I’m finished writing (or essentially finished apart from a few things), and those make up half of all of them in various stages of completion. It felt like it was NEVER going to end. But it wasn’t just that.

Having to wade through partially (or sometimes completely) naked pictures of people on photo sites to find stuff for covers... that about broke me, and after so much of it, I honestly didn’t want any part of making my own covers again. Having to wade through AI stuff that isn’t marked as AI, then realizing that you’re assessing everything you look at as whether it has a soul or not. Because you can see it there, you know? Or not. Then nitpicking over lines, and files, and I’m telling you, sitting here watching wheels spin on my computer, trying to get print books formatted... it turns dang, I enjoy nitpicking these lines into if I have to sit here for another stretch of twenty minutes doing nothing while my computer is frozen, I am going to maybe literally rip my hair out due to an inability to stop the rage that I as my person can’t let out ever in any way.

Writing books, for me, is how I ‘sort the beads of life’. It’s how I make sense of things. It’s how I sort feelings, and issues, and all the pain. And I realize only now that I suppose I haven’t had a way to do anything with any pains except ‘wallow around in them’ because work required it. I suppose it’s like a bunch of junk accumulating in the room you spend your entire day in, and you can’t clean it. Not because you don’t want to. Because you have fifty million other things that take priority over your happiness in your own life. (Then, if you get a minute, all you can do is basically shut down to try to recharge.)

And it soured me to the whole thing in ways that I do not ever want to get across to anyone past admitting here that... it was a thing, and I was (still am, in some ways) struggling.

But my issues with writing, as a whole, might be a separate matter.

This is about things changing, but in order for me to get across the fact that the title of this is not an exaggeration, I need to admit...

I couldn’t work. I could make myself do bare-minimum things. For someone who is almost entirely composed almost entirely always, admitting that I had so many moments last year of completely BREAKING down, sobbing while talking to the Big Man and telling Him...

I don’t want to do this anymore.

It’s in some ways shameful. Because I love the work. That’s what I’ve always felt. I LOVE working, I love the work, and I love working hard. All of that to the point that not allowing it to consume the entirety of my life was something that took years and substantial effort. 

I didn’t just sour to it (work both as a whole and in every individual aspect), honestly. I couldn’t even look at it. I spent more of last year crying than I would ever want anyone but Him to know.

The first cover I contacted GetCovers about was The Shadow of Home. Its cover before was... Well. Nothing? And I in some ways liked that about it. It was like a sign to a building where you don’t know what it is, and I in some ways very much like the thought of something not needing. (If you’d seen my first attempt, you would think what it ended up being was amazing! Ha!) But if there was ONE I wanted redone? It was that one.

I pushed away the ‘gut feeling’ for six months or so, the sometimes blatant ‘signs’ until I finally listened.

I reached out to them, messaged first. Felt relieved about their response. Then ordered it.

What they sent me back? Perfect first go. (Apart from tiny lil things, color changes and such.)

How do you do an alien romance cover without shirtless blue men on the front? (I’ve seen enough of that to last me beyond the entirety of forever, just looking through the ‘suggested reads’ on my own book page.) To each their own and all, but no shirtless anything on my stuff. (Also... Ardoren is grey, not blue. Just saying. I said ‘blue’ because you can’t unsee things, no matter how badly you might want to, and there are some things I very much want to. Anyway. Digressing.)

But they sent me back something perfect. And oddly perfect in ways I hadn’t even gotten across to them. There are little things in it that were so spot-on, it was like they knew things they couldn’t possibly know about the story. It was special to me in ways I don’t suspect anyone will ever know.

And do you know what?

It took me two freaking seconds to upload the new file. Two seconds, instead of me having to sit here for WEEKS agonizing over lines, and alignment, and how layers interact, and whether the file type is EXACTLY right, and what actually IS the difference between all the RGB file options and why does only this one work.

I’m telling you, if you could spend one minute inside my spirit while I’m ‘unhappy’ about lines, you’d probably run for your lives.

Two seconds to upload.

No stress. No worry. All perfect. All done.

And that, for me, was like a breath not even of fresh air after dirty air but fresh air after being underwater.

Slowly by slowly (old joke), it felt like one finger after another got pried from the throat of my dreams. And slowly by slowly, pain started getting drained from me, replaced with hope. I may not be a naïve, doe-eyed young lady anymore. But I still kind of am and always will be. My natural inner state is someone frolicking in a field of flowers where life and everything is the most beautiful freaking thing ever, while on the outside being (mostly) composed and straight-faced (while accepting that this thing or that thing might suck, but everything can basically be perfectly fine with an adjustment here or there). (Ah, the lines of life....)

Little by little over the last few months, I’ve been feeling myself coming back. Inspiration for books being ‘shelved’ inside my person, and internal responses of... I don’t know if I ever want to write again turned into...

Just gotta get a few things done, then I can get back to writing!

The title of this isn’t a joke. As I said up top, it’s not a thing to grab attention. It’s a legitimate statement, and it's just true.

GetCovers legitimately changed my life. This is just me here. I have a metric crapton of books. I couldn’t afford to put them out into the world without GetCovers. And I couldn’t bear the cost of it to my soul anymore doing it myself.

Holding something in your hand where it’s not a feeling of I wish I could’ve done better but is this is everything I wished it could be... and now I can finally rest. ??

It truly has been life-altering. Not just in the sense of hope, or peace, but in the sense of excitement. I’ve been getting to have my moments of dang, look at this! And have moments of this is perfect, and I have now—at this point—done everything I can do.

I don’t know how to describe that.

If you’re an author here doing research into them before contacting them yourself (I did), if you’re looking for succinct information?

They do not use AI images. (Their website has more information on it.)

They will work with you until they and you get it right.

They will try their absolute hardest to get everything you asked for on there. Sometimes, their vision of that doesn’t align with what you’re thinking, and what you asked for might be represented in a different way than what you imagined. Please don’t be a jerk to them about it; they are not mind readers. If it doesn’t align at first, don’t give up on them. They CAN get it.

I’m not going to say how long it took us to get Reave’s cover just right, but that was NOT their fault. It was mine. But I look at it now (thanks to some help in seeing things clearly) as... it was/is us working together.

They are professional at all times.

They are courteous.

Marta is GREAT.

Be aware that revisions are a natural part of the process, which Marta has had to assure me of a million times due to my (pretty much) inability to say anything not-nice to people. (That has been the absolute hardest aspect of this for me. Just saying, ‘I don’t like this part.’ I know how much work, effort, and heart goes into creating a cover, and I absolutely HATE the thought of anyone’s work potentially seeming like it wasn’t worth it to them, or that it was disliked.)

Also be aware that they might on some covers be a day earlier than the time allotted, but they might also ask for an extra day or two. If you can’t handle that literal extra day or two, I don’t know what to tell you. (I look at it as: Why would I want them to rush through my stuff or anyone else’s?) We all have days where we’re ahead and clear and days where we’re backed up. No one wants to deal with someone being a jerk to them about things they can’t help. Marta always responds to me within a day with an email, usually a few hours. I do NOT know when she takes time off. I’m assuming it’s the same for the designers. They work freaking hard. Don’t be a jerk.

With revisions being a natural part of the process, if you want revisions, please for decency’s sake don’t expect to get those revisions within one day (unless you might pay the extra (not joking) ten dollars to get something within a day). Their turnaround time is what it is, and it’s remarkable, I think, but unless you are super easily pleased, please don’t go into it expecting them to read your mind with no collaboration and have final files that you’re 100% happy with within 5 days. It takes time. That time is worth it.

If you’re thinking about working with them, look at how much it costs. Why would you not give it a try?

They have not ONE TIME gotten any negative kind of way with me, and that is with me nitpicking EVERYTHING. I DO NOT KNOW how Marta can tolerate dealing with me (or even the designers, with dealing with me putting the little Weimaraner on the spine and nitpicking that often more than any actual cover stuff!). But she does tolerate me and my difficulties.

The first few of my covers, I overspilled information, like a knee-jerk reaction that I wouldn’t get things across well enough, from a place of fear that I truly was alone in this. And no matter HOW MUCH RAMBLING I did, Marta was patient, kind, understanding, and really saw the heart of what I was saying. ‘Light’ and ‘dark’ / pain and recovering from it, that sort of stuff is what’s in/at the heart of my books. And seeing her and the designers make such an effort to convey such things (sometimes in big ways, sometimes in small ones that hit me right in the spirit) on the ‘face’ of my books is one of the most beautiful experiences. It doesn’t feel like someone just trying to throw something together. It feels like having a team who understands and genuinely wants to get across the heart of something. (Even if the heart of something is: this is a fun one!)

If you’re an author looking into them?

I legitimately cannot recommend them enough. I honestly can’t imagine working with anyone else for this. If I had the money, I would rather tip them a huge tip than pay someone else that same amount to do my covers. I love them that much. 

If you’re a reader of my books?

GetCovers is a BIIIIG part of why you might get more of my books.

If you’re family/friend?

I’ve been struggling here, but every day, things are looking brighter.

It’s nice to have things to be excited about and to have some hope back.

Now, maybe, hopefully soon I can get back to all the cheerful updates. I’ve been likening it to having an injury and needing to heal before ‘getting back on the court’. (I love me some Kentucky Basketball....) I feel quite close to being back on form, and a lot of the healing light of that came from this and them.

If Marta or any of the designers happen to see this?

THANK YOU.

Now to bombard you with 'Before and After' pictures.... hehe

<3

C

Come on now.... I think this speaks for itself??

This one took a little more time than TSoH.... I had an idea inside my head, about what objects, coloring, so on. And this one is where I learned about them trying as hard as possible to fit everything you ask for on there as well as it not being what you imagine(d). I worked hard to figure out how to convey what I meant, after almost giving up, if I'm being honest. And I am SO FREAKING GLAD. This has SO MUCH from the book there, instead of just being objects put together. It's like a scene from the book, in a sense. And! You can FINALLY tell it's a romance. ^.^

This is another that was almost perfect from the get-go! And it's where I had the experience of 'someone's interpretation of how to represent what you asked for' being different and unexpected... it can be an absolutely beautiful thing. I would've NEVER put that color on there, but I feel it actually is perfect. This book has its 'spunky' bits, its fun bits, and I feel the bright color is far more appropriate than something super serious and wholly dark, like most Romantic Suspense novels. It's in a lot of ways far more just about love and friendship. This is also where I learned... sometimes it takes going through seven million guy's faces to find the right one. My reaction to the first guy they put on there was (in ways) kind of funny. I will keep it to myself, though.... (But I hated his face with the fire of a thousand suns, basically.)

The covers for the Regulators series were actually, probably, my favorites that I've done. And I felt sure I ain't gonna change those (getting Southern). Then I had the feeling that I should. So I did. And I freaking love the cover for this one more than I know how to express. LOVE IT SO MUCH.

Going to be jokingly formal and say...

IN CONCLUSION...
I kind of think the images speak for themselves. (More covers are on the way/in the works.)

So happy. Love them so much. ^.^