Cover Critique: Inappropriate Use of the Headless Torso

Let me preface this post by saying that my design critiques of these covers are in no way, shape or form a reflection on the author, the content or the publisher. I know the authors have very little, if any, control over the design. These are strictly my thoughts meant simply to be humorous and not insulting.

I think most of you have probably noticed the headless or semi-headless torso cover trend in romance book covers as it's fairly hard to miss. In case you need help identifying this trend though, I thought I might assist your enlightenment with some visual aids. I'm displaying said aids for strictly professional book-related reasons only. I want to make sure we're all on the same page you see, I take no other pleasure in these covers other than informing you of a significant and noticeable trend. Professional and respectful, that's me.



Well, hello there my shapely torsos, what pretty book covers you make. Now that I have stopped petting my screen long enough to type, I just want to point out how the lack of a full head on these covers works well because, let's just admit it, we're not all that concerned with what their faces look like when their chests and abs are displayed in all their rippling glory now are we? No. So, in addition to simply wanting a more valid reason to feature these delicious midsections, I also wanted to make my point that a lot of the time, the headless or semi-headless torso is a very appealing and enjoyable cover design solution. Now that we have established that firmly *scrolls back up to refresh my memory as to the trend in question* we can move on to a cover where this element is not quite as successful.

Behold.



Gah! That is one mutant, eyeless, diaper-clad baby! Why cover designer, why have you done this? Are we attempting to protect the baby's identity by cropping out his or her eyes? I imagine stock photographs with a full face are more expensive, but this is just a little disturbing don't you think? I have no pecs to ogle. I have no abs to drool over. I have no um, package, to briefly (okay, not always briefly) stare at. What I have instead is a very fleshy, very enormous baby hovering ominously over a building as though he might drop from the sky at any moment and cover those bricks in diaper-y goodness. Blech.

I guess this cover just flummoxes me, title and image and all. What will come to me? A monstrous nude child missing the upper half of his or her head? And if this baby is in fact coming to me, is this cover to scale? If so, what am I going to do with this child? Where will I keep them? How will I clothe them? Even though this alien baby has very adorable fatty arm and leg rolls like a little plump sausage, I must humbly request he or she be returned to sender. If something else absolutely must "come to me", I would like to draw attention to the first set of images. I will be accepting any and all deliveries that appear as such. Thank you.

Anyone want to venture a guess as to what this book could possibly be about? Well, I won't keep you in suspense (from Barnes and Noble):

Ben Blau is the reluctant chair of the philosophy department of the Lola Dees Institute, surrounded by a bestiary of academic innocents and opportunists. His wife, Ruth—a writer whose early success never quite blossomed into a career—nurtures sometimes noisy and sometimes private rebellions against the conventions of academic life. Their lives have settled, if not always comfortably, into a dull ceremonial round of convocations, committee meetings, and pot-luck dinners. To Ruth it seems that nothing will ever change.

Except that this year a new couple has arrived on campus: an ethereal, celebrated young memoirist and her husband, an intellectual jack-of-all-trades and perpetual misfit. Something about these two throws the staid academic world of the Lola Dees Institute into comic chaos and revives Ruth’s hopes that she might become, once again, the writer she used to be.

Hm. I see nothing about a giant exhibitionist baby who seeks revenge on an academic campus via crushing the buildings under the sheer monstrous weight of his or her freakishly overgrown baby limbs in that blurb do you? I, in fact, see nothing about babies at all, even normal sized ones. This book is a conundrum and completely abuses the beauty of the headless torso trend. Please don't misconstrue my thoughts and read between the lines that I hate babies, absolutely not the case–little teacup humans are adorable. In proportion. With a complete face and head. Just saying.

Have a good weekend everyone:)