Cover Story
I have a deep connection to my favorite book cover of all time: the 1976 Signet paperback edition of ‘Salem’s Lot by Stephen King. It was the official reprint of the Doubleday hardcover edition published in 1975, back in the day when paperback retail went huge.
I didn’t buy hardcovers because they were pricey. I had to wait a year for paperback. But there was an established book culture in my hometown, and I could check out new release hardcovers or paperbacks from the Essex Free Library, or get on the waiting list.
One lucky day a friend lent me her paperback copy of ‘Salem’s Lot when she’d finished. She refused to tell me what it was about, only that it was amazing and I would love it and it was terrifying. Any classmate who’d read it kept silent. The all-black cover was unusual in that there was no title on the front, only an embossed illustration of a girl with a tiny red drop in the corner of her mouth. The title was on the spine and back cover, and the blurb was cryptic: “The town knew darkness…but no one dared talk about the high, sweet, evil laughter of a child…and the sucking sounds…”
I found the secrecy irresistible, and tore into the novel. On the second page, on the top of the sole review page, a promo blurb kept up the intrigue: “We won’t reveal the unspeakable secret of ‘Salem’s Lot. But listen to what they’re saying about it all over America!”
‘Salem’s Lot had a massive influence on me, and remains one of my lifetime favorites. It colored my taste in fiction. It wasn’t until years later that I got my own copy at a library lawn sale. The Signet original paperback was tucked on a wire rack for a dollar. I snatched it up and kept it to this day. It lives in zip-lock bag with a 1974 Tempo Books paperback edition of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and the original metallic-silver paperback edition of The Shining.
I salute the daring cover art director and marketing team for offering a novel with no title on the front, and delicious, high-level taste and restraint. Stephen King at the time was not well-known. This was his second novel, and I’d never read Carrie, his first.
It may sound dumb, but one of the reasons I indie-published The Banished was because I wanted control of my cover. It’s all-black with a flat, graphic illustration — my own personal tribute to my favorite book cover. The reference is meaningful to me, I only get one debut novel. Of course the title’s printed on the cover, but hey, I’m no Stephen King.
My original 1976 Signet paperback edition
