The Iceman Cometh, or, Baen of Our Existence

DocTurtle here with a Sunday night sampler.

"That cover is creepy!" says Maughta. "It's freaking me out, just a two-second glance at it."

C'mon, Maughta, isn't this kid the very picture of clean-cut American youth? Look at that chiseled jaw, that blond tuft of squared-off hair, those ox-like shoulders. This kid's a'ight.

I gotta admit that the tag-line ("Is he as cold as the ice he skates on?") is a nice bit of cornballery, but...nah, this one's just not doin' it for me. I've gotta find one with a little more oomph...

This is definitely creepier, if you ask me: identical (yet reflected) Yorkies and an eyeless blonde caryatid sloppily photoshopped onto a featureless field. It's a chick-lit version of The Fantastic Planet.

But no, still not feeling it...

Awright! Baen comes through for us again! What's not to love about this cover? How often do you get to see giant green meerkats sparring with mauve-caped swordsmen while a rogue's gallery of aliens looks on?

As regular readers of this blog should know, David Weber and Baen Books are the twin stars in a brilliant conjunction of cover art crappitude. For those who need a bit more convincing, check out Baen's on-line catalog of Weber's work, a litany of lousy artwork. My personal favorites are In Fury Born and Windrider's Oath, but Maughta likes War of Honor and 1633, the second of which she's already lampooned in an earlier post. Meanwhile, if it's laughable titles you're looking for, look no farther than Bolo!.