Oh-h-h-h-h yeah! How could I call myself a snarker of book covers if I don't Sfehm;dakg;lhbdf;bgshei'wr;t...Oh, damn, sorry for that. Spider just fell on my head. And it looks like this!
I was just yesterday bragging to my colleagues at the library that I liked this spider 'cause it mostly hung out on my ceiling and ate ants (Chez Maughta seems to have its share of ceiling-dwelling ants). So let me clarify. I like spiders when they hang out on my ceiling and eat ants. I DO NOT like spiders when the fall on my head.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was about to say that no self-respecting snarkette of book covers would neglect to snark on Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. So here you go. I call this one, "My pecs are freakin' huge!!"
Let's look at the closeup, shall we?
Oh, yes, mullet-boy is about to be imbued with the fiery phallic power of the Darksword, here being modeled by some guy who would look much more appropriate as a distinguished lawyer or judge than he looks in wizard's robes wielding a flaming sword. Didn't anyone tell the cover artist that wizard=white beard? Sheesh, do I have to do everything? At least our esteemed artist followed the convention that hulking, mulleted heros-ala-Hercules are always bare chested, even when working in a freakin' forge! (See, mom, I can watch my language.) Third degree burns, anyone?