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To coincide with the launch of Thryke – The Man That Nobody Knew, we introduce those that were a huge influence on the project.

These days, producing a book is necessarily a team effort. No longer can the writer sit and take all the praise! This is especially true in the world of self-publishing, where the author themselves must guarantee the utmost quality for their readers.

One immensely vital member of that team is the cover designer.

Today, we are joined by Maja Kopunovic, a tremendously talented artist, with equal gifts in exquisite detail and smoothing the client journey.

In our interview below, Maja gives us some revealing insights into the artwork which can make, or break, a book.

Hi! Tell us a little bit about yourself?

I’m Maja (pronounced Maya), I’m 24 years old, from Serbia, and I am a book cover designer. I studied Graphic Design in High School. It was there, almost ten years ago, that I opened Photoshop for the first time in my life, and fell in love with it.

How did you start designing book covers?

As I mentioned, I learned about all aspects of graphic design in High School. It was there that I learned the principles of designing, and also where I designed my first book cover. I remember it was for some boring school project… haha! It was only at the end of High School that I began to fully dedicate myself to designing and learning everything I can and need to know about becoming a professional book cover designer.

How important is a good cover?

The cover is a crucial part of any book. No matter how good the book in question is, it is the cover that will draw readers’ attention, but the story is what keeps it.

What other artists and designers do you admire?

Huh, that’s a difficult question! There is no easy answer to that, haha! I don’t have a favourite artist or designer, as such. What I like to do, and do very often, is go to Instagram, or some other social media platform, and type in a search for “book cover designs.” I can then get exposure to a lot of photos from a sea of talented people. That way, I can have a more honest opinion, because I don’t know who the designer is. If I like the cover, I like it, if not, not. 

How do you work with authors? (i.e. your process / incorporating author ideas.)

It varies from client to client because every one of them is unique in their way. But I always start from the same basics: I ask the client what they need me to design and describe the information that I will need. Next, I make a few preliminary sketches, and the client can choose the sketch they like the most. From that point, we can work together, step by step, to make the author their perfect cover.

Where can people see your work?

My portfolio is easy to find online, and I encourage readers to go and have a look!

I have an Instagram page -> https://www.instagram.com/_m_design3/
And Dribbble profile -> https://dribbble.com/Maja_K  

I find these both great places to share and showcase my work.

How can interested authors connect with you?

They can connect with me through my Instagram page -> https://www.instagram.com/_m_design3/ or my email – k.maja.789@gmail.com

I am always delighted to hear from any writers who are looking the realise their dream book cover!

How hard was it getting to this stage of your professional career?

Trust me, it wasn’t easy, haha! The freelance world is especially tough. There are a lot of rejections, weird working hours, a lot of different people (good and bad). But with hard work, continually learning and trying to make yourself better than yesterday, you can be a success. Experience, and of course, a little bit of talent does help too! Hahaha!

Another essential element to have is support, because there will be moments when you want to give up and do something easier. But if you have at least one supportive person, you can and will push through it.

What are the pros and cons of working as a freelancer?

The hardest parts are rejections, not giving up, being patient and always giving 110% of yourself in every project. Fortunately, there are a lot of wonderful people, which more than make up for the other ones. Haha!

But the most rewarding part, for me, is meeting so many amazing people through my work. Some have gone on to become very close friends. Another aspect –  that can become like a drug – is the excitement of a client when you bring their book cover to life and see how happy they are with it. That part never gets old.

What are your future plans?

I plan to learn interior book design and build a website. This will allow me to offer to authors, around the world, services in both book cover design and internal layout. I want to provide a one-stop-shop where an author can give me a manuscript within a file of their choosing, and I can take care of the cover and layout from there.

Thank you for joining us Maja and giving us some insight into the world of a freelance book cover designer. You have managed to make this an entertaining interview, so thank you for that! We wish you every success for the future, with many more beautiful covers to come!

Maja Kopunovic is the designer of the breathtaking cover for “Thryke – the Man that Nobody Knew” which is available for order now!

Wanted:

Artist seeks female assistant and muse. Duties: to meet Mr. W. Sickert from the 1908 (due to arrive between Euston and Camden Town.) No artistic experience necessary. Life-modelling will be required at the outset. Successful applicant will be cherished, immortalized, and released. Interviews at the Fitzwilliam Museum.

“It is well done, and fitting for a princess descended of so many royal kings.”

I await well-thought-out replies with the tenderest of patience.

Sought:

Female seeks transformational artist to capture my full beauty before it fades. Have met Mr. Sickert from the station as requested. I agree he does some wonderful work. Life should imitate art. Acceptance from you solves the problem of what we shall do for the rent. Willing to learn to complete my personal evolution. There is such unfettered dignity in Egyptian duties. Fully yours, E. Box 304.

Obituary:

Our darling daughter, Elizabeth. 1999-2020. Taken too young. May your spirit soar unrestrained. You are free from pain now. With all our love, Mum and Dad xxx.

Public Notice:

Come and attend the startling exhibition of paintings by C.J.P. Palmer-Smythe. There are some stunning new works on offer, including a moving, modern re-working of Walter Sickert’s 1908 piece, “Mornington Crescent Nude.” Gala Opening, Friday 5th June, from 8 pm (invitation only.) Public Viewing Opens from 10 am Saturday 6th. Queries, P. Myers – Galleria Apollo, Soho.

I owned ticket number sixty-seven. The display had ticked from fifty-eight to sixty-five in the hour and a half I had already waited.

Ping!

“Number sixty-six, go through, please.”

The bespectacled speaker lowered her head and continued to scratch at a desk full of papers. I gripped my form and sweat pooled on my palms.

Ping!

“Number sixty-seven, go through, please.”

Excitedly, I hurried along the beige corridor, turning left, right, and left again, finally emerging into an oppressive grey room.

An identical, horn-rimmed clad bureaucrat sharply announced, “Take a ticket, sir.”

Number thirty-two? Red-digits burned with an evil sixteen.

Return to Act Two.

Act Three – Scene One

THE SCENE TAKES PLACE IN A DARK ROOM, WITH WOODEN WALLS. THERE IS A SINGULAR, ROUND WINDOW IN THE FAR WALL, WHICH PROVIDES A LITTLE LIGHT. THREE MEN CAN BE SEEN LAYING ON THE FLOOR.

Brown: (perching in his elbows) Where am I?

Chapman: (rubbing his head) My oh my, that was some session,

Fisher: (yawning) Anyone got the kettle on the fire?

(Men lurch, as if to simulate being caught on a wave)

Brown: Why is the room moving?

Chapman: Noooo!

Fisher: Chapman is that you, what are you doing here? And where is here?

Brown: (pointing) That window, it’s round.

Fisher:   Well of course it is. And what are you still doing here Brown? I had enough of you last night! You should be long gone.

Brown: The window is small and round and the room is moving up and down, up and down.

Fisher: He likes to point out the obvious, doesn’t he Chapman?

Chapman: Listen to him Fisher! The window is small and round. The room is moving. And, if I’m not very much mistaken, the sound of waves crashing against the wall is a lot louder than I should like!

Brown: (watching Fisher intently) He’s working it out…

Fisher: Ha! (claps his hands) We did it! We did it! We pressed Brown!

Brown: I pressed you first! I pressed you both. Ha ha!

Chapman: No, we pressed you! You must have just got lucky!

Brown: Me lucky? You jest! There’s two of you!

(Brown dives forward and half-hearted scuffle ensues, interrupted by brief cries of ‘I pressed you.’)

Unseen voice: Ow my head!

Brown: (pausing from the scuffle) Who said that?

Chapman: (gasping for breath) You did!

Brown: Shhhh!

Unseen voice: Ow my poor, poor head!

Fisher: It came from over there!

(A figure crawls into the light, rubbing its head)

Brown, Chapman, Fisher: (simultaneously) It’s Murray!!!

Brown: We’re saved!

Murray: What are you all doing here? Why is this floor so unsteady? What was I drinking?

Chapman: You’d better tell him Fisher. Explain it to him gently.

Fisher: Well you see sir, Brown, Chapman and myself have been pressed sir. It seems that we are at sea sir.

Murray: I know you’ve been pressed. It was all part of my final scheme.

Brown: But you’re here too sir.

Murray: Yes, and?

Fisher: Then is stands to reason that you have been pressed too, sir.

Murray: (In realisation) Ahh!

(The cabin falls silent for a moment. The only sounds are the crashing of the waves and a few squawking gulls.)

Murray: Well gentlemen, I am sorry that I must disturb your reverie. As soon as I show the captain my papers, I shall be placed in a first-class cabin and plans shall be made to secure my passage home.

Brown: Sir?

Murray: My licenses, permits and papers, the ones you are yet to have received (he reaches into in inside pocket) They look a little bit like these. (Begins to unfold papers.)

Fisher: Well that’s jolly nice isn’t it! I’m alright jack and pull up the ladder!

Murray: Aaaarrrggghhh (he let’s out a cry and throws the paper down.)

(Brown picks up the paper)

Fisher: What does it say?

Chapman: Come on Brown, tell us, what does it say!

Brown: Just one word…

Murray: (screams) Maldini!!!

(Murray moves to the front of the stage.)

Murray: And so, this is how is ends. No cell of a rose-clad cottage for me. I am to be made redemptive, to play out my days with these men, the same that I did send to their doom. My fate awaits, but at least I shall face it free. Free from the terrible guilt. Sleep shall, at last, be mine this night.

(The door to the room opens. Murray pulls himself up to his full height and marches smartly towards it. He motions the other men through, pauses, and looks towards the front of the stage with a smile.)

(Exuent)

THE END.

Buy Simon Gary’s comedy novel, “Gone to the Dogs” from the shop.

Return to Act One.

Act Two – Scene One

WE ARE BACK IN THE CLASSROOM. IT IS THE END OF THE DAY. SHIRTS ARE NOW BEING WORN WITH OPEN COLLARS AND EACH OF THE DELEGATES ARE MORE SLOUCHED IN THEIR CHAIRS.

Murray: And on that, the singular most important point of the entire course, I thank each of you for the effort and attention that you have given today. Do not forget to fill in your feedback sheets, as it will enable the continuous improvement of the course delivery for future delegates. That said, this is my last training, as I shall be retiring from the Impressment Service at the end of the week.

Brown: Oh no!

Chapman: Then we are honoured to have received your instruction sir!

Fisher: Happy retirement sir! Three cheers for sir! Hip-hip!

(Following Fisher’s enthusiastic ‘hips’, Brown, Murray and Fisher, deliver three hearty cheers.)

Murray: Settle down! Settle down! Hush now my colleagues. It is ironic indeed that I am closing my journey in this wonderful profession just as you are beginning yours. But our journey this day continues. To the Trawlerman’s Arms!

(Further cheers from the delegates)

Murray: Brown, you and I will go ahead and secure a table and the first round. Wait for me in the foyer please. Chapman, Fisher, would you kindly move the chairs, this table and the board and place them at the back of the room.

(Brown exits, stage right. Fisher and Chapman murmur in discontent at having to tidy up.)

Murray: (in a whisper) Chapman, Fisher, listen, we must be quick. Don’t you think Brown was annoying today? Answering all the questions before you had a chance? We don’t need men like him in the trade. Here (passes Fisher a vial from his pocket). Put some of this in his ale this evening, and you can both begin your careers with a deserved press.

Fisher: Wow!

Chapman: This’ll show him. Thank you, sir!

Murray: No gratitude required. One less know-it all around. Now I must away before Brown becomes suspicious. Remember, just put it in his ale and give it some time to act.

(Murray exits, stage right)

Act Two – Scene Two

Murray has joined Brown in the foyer.

Brown: Hello sir, shall we go?

Murray: Presently Brown, presently. I must, at this point, confess something of a ruse. I mean to start you on your career Brown. You were an excellent student today. Those two in there, they are not natural pressmen, such as you and I. No, their talents deserve a more maritime environment in which to evolve. Here (takes two vials from his pocket.) Slip these into their beer this evening. Give it some time to act and bingo, you shall start your career with two fine presses.

Brown: Really sir? I am in your debt, I don’t know what to say.

Murray: Say nothing Brown. This is now the time for action. A perfect plan is afoot! Let us make haste to the Trawlerman’s Arms!      

(Murray and Brown exit)

Continue to Act Three.

Return to Introduction.

Act One – Scene One

A MAN STANDS IN THE FOYER OR HALLWAY OF A PUBLIC BUILDING. HE IS DRESSED IN THE CLOTHES OF A VICTORIAN GENTLEMAN. HE SEEMS RELATIVELY WELL TO DO, BUT A COUPLE OF FRAYED HEMS BETRAY HIS WORKING STATION. HE CARRIES PAPERS UNDER HIS RIGHT ARM. HE APPEARS TO BE PSYCHING HIMSELF UP.

Murray: La la la la laaa. (clears throat) do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, so! Come on Murray, steal yourself. Just one more time. Just once more, then you can go off and retire to that rose edged cottage, that you have always dreamed of. (sniffs) Oh come now, you silly old fool. This is no time to get sentimental. You have done this many times before. Now; grip the door handle firmly, take a deep breath, shoulders back and command the room. Command it I tell you!

Continue reading First Impressions – Act One.

A good while ago, my local BBC radio station was running a competition for local playwrights.

I forget the rules in detail, but the idea was that the play ran for about ten to fifteen minutes and had a link to the area.

The radio station in question is called Radio Solent. For those that don’t know, The Solent is a twenty-mile long strait that separates the Isle of Wight from the UK Mainland. On its coast are some great port cities, such as Southampton, the port from where the Titanic sailed.

Further east is Portsmouth, the home of the Royal Navy. Portsmouth is the home of Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory, which is still a commissioned naval vessel. But a stones throw from that majestic ship sits the Mary Rose, flagship of Henry VIII’s navy.

This ship sank in The Solent in unexplained circumstances in 1545 and remained resting in the depths of the murky waters for over four-hundred years, preserved by layers of fine silt.

On the 11th October 1982, I watched on television as the ship was raised in a bright yellow frame. I was eight years old.

The Mary Rose was our school project for what felt like forever, and I lost count of the number of times I rendered the Tudor carrack with colouring pencils. I felt like I knew every inch of that ship. Margaret Rule, who was one of those heavily involved in the maritime architecture and raising even came to our school, and she was tremendously famous as she had been on Blue Peter.

So, you see, I really had no choice but to make my competition entry reflect something nautical and naval, especially as a resident of Gosport, which is just a short ferry ride from the Portsmouth Royal Naval Dockyard.

Gosport is a wonderful town, and would have been no stranger to the shenanigans that my play describes. Why not read on? I do so hope that you enjoy it!

Read on to Act One of “First Impressions.”

Buy “Gone to the Dogs,” the comedy novel by Simon Gary

If you like the local history of the Solent area, here are a couple of books that you may be interested in.

“Going Over the Water: Memories of the Gosport Ferry” compiled by David Gary.

“Memories of Haslar: Staff and Patients Write About Britain’s Best-Loved Hospital” compiled by Eric Birbeck and David Gary.

Both these titles, and many more are available from Chaplain Books.

Join Professor Ignatius Snart, as he reads from the novel “Gone to the Dogs.”

The purchase your copy of this hilarious novel, please head to the shop. Thank you and enjoy!

“Alan! Alan, we don’t do that do we?”

Wide-eyed and mute, Alan stared from the playpen.

“Take it out of your mouth now, darling, there’s a good boy.”

Alan, now obstinate, continued to jab the rattle into his slobbery mouth.

“Stop that, this instant! It’s dirty! You don’t know where it’s been!” It occurred to her that Alan neither knew nor cared where it had been. “You’ll make Mummy cross, and you know what happens when Mummy gets cross!”

Alan scooted about on his nappy seat, his back now turned to her and began hammering on some blocks. Her gaze shifted to the talc that sat by the magazine. He would need changing soon. You could set your clock by him, you really could. Then it would be time for yet another feed.

“We’ll change you in a moment, my sugar plum. Then we’ll see about your lunch, just after I’ve read this article, okay?”

She felt silly, justifying herself like that, but smiled when a gurgle of apparent consent was issued from the pen.

“Mummy won’t be long, dear,” she sighed. “Mummy won’t be long at all.”

Sir Alan Hardacre, junior minister for overseas development, appeared on the right of the security monitor, glanced around, and then walked across the screen. The red of his ministerial case was, unbeknownst to him, a beautiful match for the pulsing letters “REC” that adorned the upper-most right panel of the picture.

As his pinstriped leg disappeared from view, Alice looked up, scribbled the date and time into a notepad, and smiled.

“Mummy will see you in a fortnight!” she called gaily.

Then she went back to the article his feed had so rudely interrupted. The one about the sparkling sports car he did not know he would be buying.

“All My Colors” is the first book by David Quantick that I have read, I can assure you that it will not be the last.

In television, Quantick has writing credits for shows like “Veep,” “The Thick of It,” and “On the Hour.” But if I were also to mention shows like “Jam” and its radio predecessor, “Blue Jam,” you will get an idea of the kind of territory in which “All My Colors” sits.

The book revolves around Todd Milstead, a boorish thug of a man who fancies himself a writer. His delusion is held back by one simple reality: he really cannot write. But he can quote, and he can lecture which, for the time being, will have to be enough.

That is until a book spews about of him, the next Great American Novel, “All My Colors.”

Quantick skilfully steeps the novel in a foreboding sense of doom from the beginning, as Milstead slowly sinks into the filthy mire of gothic horror. The language is exact, and the pace is exhilarating, leaving a book that breathlessly swirls around and captivates the reader. I am not usually a swift devourer of books, unlike Tim, Quantick’s fictional bookshop owner, but this was a tome that I could not put down. When it was over, I had to sit, breath, and regain my troubled equilibrium.

On a deeper level, Quantick explores the nature of certainty and ideas, with Kafkaesque precision. As a would-be writer myself (though hopefully not a Milstead), I recognize that there are few new ideas, that we are all composites of everyone who has come before. There is a horror in questioning the illusion of individuality. Has there ever been an original thought in my brain?

Quantick deftly picks at this question, creating characters like Behm, the private detective, who deliberately ticks every box in P.I. checklist, much to the delight of the main protagonist.

If you are an insecure writer, I would thoroughly recommend this book. You will not sleep for weeks.

If you are not an insecure writer, well, I also thoroughly recommend this book. You might regain healthy sleep patterns a little sooner, but I would still plan for a couple of days of nocturnal nail gnawing.

To summarise, buy and read this book, then tell others to buy and read this book. What lives in our minds cannot be forgotten, right?

If you would like to purchase this book now, please find a link in the shop.

Mr Quantick’s next book, “Night Train” has a paperback release date of 7th July 2020. Here is a link to pre-order.