No Brainers

Some books just scream for us to judge them by their covers. Take the following cover, found by intrepid judger-in-the-field, Snow. As Snow points out, it's like Baen is doing this just to fuck with us. They're trying to see just how bad their covers could possibly be. Is Jim Baen's taste that bad? Apparently!

Y'know, as someone who's married to someone who's last name is slang for testicles, I feel for people with unfortunate names. But that's the nice thing about being an author. There's a handy little thing called a pseudonym that one can use if one wants to write, say, romance novels, and one's name is synonymous with sex! Y'know, if one didn't want to be, oh, I don't know, made fun of on a blog. Nina, you're the joy of fifteen year old boys, and bane of librarians, everywhere.

And what is going on with that woman, anyway? Is that some sort of chitinous shell? Are we morphing from a cockroach? Heh heh. COCKroach. BANGS. One BITE Stand. Heh heh heh.

And finally, a book that faithful reader Michael points out, "should be judged solely on typography:"