A Prins among Princes

Weeks ago, I put out the call to the many art directors in my life.

I needed a favor, more specifically an idea for a cover for my upcoming release of my next book, Round Seventeen &1/2, The Names Have Been Changed To Protect the Inefficient.

The response was overwhelming.
In an underwhelming kind of way.

Apparently the people I have so generously turned on to freelance gigs and kept gainfully underemployed for the last dozen years are unfamiliar with the concept of reciprocity. Fair enough, names have taken, lists are being compiled and future blogs posts are being planned.

One former partner and friend bucked that trend, Robert Prins.

Two weeks ago he sent me an entire deck full of juicy book cover choices. The one above features a picture of a raccoon humping a beagle. We happened across the grainy photo while working on a recent assignment and couldn't stop laughing.

When we saw the shot, there was projectile snot that reached the ceiling tile.

Robert offered up other choices as well.

This one had a nice simplicity about it. And one of the stories in the book regards shrimp.

But it felt too fancified and frankly promised the reader a literary experience I knew the writing could not deliver.

I liked this one.

Because it features yellow, and for better or worse, my entire ad career seems to be synonymous with one inconsequential Yellow ABC campaign.

Also, I like monkeys.
Except for Ken Ham and the Creationists, who doesn't like monkeys?

And finally there was this.

The carefully sculpted geometric patterns of the sidewalk casually desecrated and overtaken by the random meandering of an unleashed dog's piss. If that's not a perfect metaphor for advertising in the year 2015, I don't know what is.

In the end, I chose None of the Above.

You'll have to wait to see the winning design and the genuinely-sophopmoric writing when the book finally hits the shelves in late September.

Then, when Random House calls and offers to pick up the second printing and drops a fat advance check on my ass, I'll be prancing off to deposit the money in the bank.

Note to all you art directors who couldn't be bothered: And so will Robert.