Most videos on book cover designer Elisha Zepeda’s TikTok account have a similar format: he gets an assignment from a publisher, crafts several options, gets feedback, makes some tweaks, and, finally, reveals which of his covers (if any) was selected. Viewers are often unhappy about which designs are left on the cutting room floor. But they’re watching, and engaging: as of this writing, the Bend, Ore.–based designer’s account (@ez.bookdesign) has amassed more than 356,000 followers and nearly six million likes.
It has been an exciting month for Zepeda, who was tapped by Adobe to host a livestreamed book cover design workshop, and inked a sponsorship deal with the software giant to boot. With several of his designs hitting shelves this summer, PW caught up with Zepeda to talk design, BookTok—and why publishers should read his posts’ comment section.
Why do you think your TikTok account has gained such a large following?
I think my videos make the process more interactive. Rather than just posting a finished cover online, it shows a real person doing real work with a real process behind it.
I also think that seeing a handful of designs proposed—which start out as artistic and inspired, then often are reduced to looking like a knockoff of a bestseller—just gets under people’s skin. The industry corners itself into saying, “This is how big text should be,” and, “We have to be mindful of the tiny thumbnail.” But why shouldn’t book covers look like art? Seeing the visceral response in the comments section makes me feel like I’m not crazy. I’m only spending $30 on a hardcover if it looks like art that I can display. It’s the whole reason vinyl is back today—people want a tangible way to show off their interests. Why not lean into that in publishing? Giving a cover a dime-a-dozen look that will be lost in the oblivion of similar covers feels like a waste. Most of my viewers share that sentiment.
Why do you show your design process for covers that don’t make the cut?
I’m proud of my unused work. I was discouraged that some of the work that I thought was my best would never be seen. So I wanted an outlet to showcase it.
At the same time, I wanted to start a conversation in the industry. People commenting “wow I would have instantly bought any of your original covers, but I wouldn’t pick up the final version” is something publishers need to see. What is it going to take to publish more artistic covers, rather than recycling the same teal-and-yellow thrillers, woman-looking-away WWII novels, or dispersed-dot health books?
You have one foot in the publishing world and another in the BookTok community. How do you see the relationship between the two?
It’s interesting seeing BookTok now being recognized in stores—I see entire shelves dedicated to it all the time, both in indie shops and in Barnes & Nobles. I think it’s the new “New York Times bestseller,” though that’s a phrase that doesn’t really hold much weight anymore.
The thing that makes me prefer a BookTok book is that it’s claimed by the people. That’s one thing I love about TikTok: it breaks down the divide between consumer and creator. If someone loves a book and is talking about it online, I’m going to believe their opinion far more than anything marketed as a bestseller.
At one point, I had a thought to charge publishers for market testing using my TikTok. My view counts range from 400,000 to five million, with thousands of commenters declaring their favorite options. Where else does a publisher have access to that many people’s opinions? And once the book is published, many of those people would remember that they had a say in the cover choice, and maybe there’s a higher chance of purchase because of that. Everybody wins.
A couple years ago critics bemoaned the “book blob,” which emerged in a marketplace where books needed to be legible in small thumbnails. What do you think of the book blob, and what trends are you seeing in book cover design today?
Ah, the book blob. I do think that trend is over, but the reasoning for it dawned on me once I started working in the industry: publishers think every cover has to appeal to as many people as possible. Marketing might say, “We want this to appeal to women, but we don’t want any women to feel excluded.” So instead of showing real skin tones, hair color, anything that represents the tone, or character, or culture represented in the book, it’s abstract colors that resemble the shape of a woman. This doesn’t make any sense to me.
Another trend is the woman facing away. I think the reasoning for this is the same as the book blob: trying to appeal to the largest amount of people by showing the least amount of character detail. But shouldn’t a cover aim to attract attention outside of the audience that is already likely to buy the book for its content?
One trend I love right now is the use of solid, vibrant blocks of color. Yellowface, Greta & Valdin, Wandering Stars, Come & Get It, Memory Piece, Fire Season. I want all bookshelves to look like pastel blocks of color with simple typefaces and tasteful imagery.
What makes a truly great book cover?
Tone is the key. The point of a book cover is to get someone to pick up the book and read the back. It’s like a movie trailer. The best ones give you just a glimpse into the world, enough so that you want to pay to see the full thing.
This is where art comes into play, and where the best designers flourish. I think of Bliss Montage’s cellophane oranges, Ghost Wall’s skull made of flowers, The Memory Police’s mixed media, Human Blues’ dysmorphic illustration. None of these give away anything about the plot, but you can sense the tone just by looking at the cover. You’re giving readers a subconscious sense of what to expect at the heart of the story. Is this silly? Playful? Serious? Dark? It doesn’t have to make sense. It just has to look good.
