I never know quite what I’m going to stumble across when scanning the headlines of the Morning Updates from The Bookseller that accumulate in my Gmail Inbox. Most of these are clearly more relevant to well-established publishing houses than to individual book readers, (or to brand new, very small publishers like my own Novel Press) but the Feed Reader comes up with more variety – the one that caught my eye is from last Thursday’s update, with the heading: A week without books, from The Guardian World News.

Bibi van der Zee is a bookaholic who was going cold turkey for a week. She gives an amusing account of how she copes with the deprivation, but I was more interested in the wider questions that she raises when she wonders if her reading habit is ‘actually is some kind of drug’

I was aware that ‘that our brain experiences what the characters we are reading about experience’ and it was no surprise to learn about a piece of research where scientists got people to read while they were in a brain scanner. ” When readers were engaged in a story, the researchers found that, at the points in which the story said a protagonist undertook an action, the part of the brain which was activated was the part which the reader himself or herself would use to undertake the action”

What I hadn’t really taken on board was the fact that, ‘For most of our history, reading has been done by just a few specialists, and aloud.‘ In the fifth century, Saint Augustine was famously perplexed by the weird habits of Saint Ambrose: ” When he read, his eyes scanned the page and his heart sought out the meaning, but his voice was silent and his tongue was still. Anyone could approach him freely and guests were not commonly announced, so that often, when we came to visit him, we found him reading like this in silence, for he never read aloud.”

We take it for granted now that fluent readers don’t have to sound out each word. Take a look at this article and remind yourself how novels have changed our attitudes to reading, using them as recreation and an escape from stress.

Reading is such a part of our lives it’s hard to imagine a time when a reader like Ambrose was able to astonish onlookers with his eyes scanning the page. I love the way that this was expressed – especially ‘his heart sought out the meaning ‘.

I don’t read anything like as much as I used to – maybe only one or two novels a month. I feel a pang when I visit some readers’ blogs and read their enticing reviews, adding them to my mental t.b.r pile - but what with my money-earning job, my own writing, and now my publishing venture, Novel Press, there really isn’t much time left over.

At least I know I can last a week without reading. It’s almost a year since I wrote any poetry and I do miss that.

Would you find it hard to give up reading for a week? If not, what would you miss most?

How can it be March already? Maybe there’s a mathematical formula that can explain the correlation between my own advancing years and the increasing speed with which each brand new year hurtles towards its middle age.

March is a significant month for Paper Lanterns – its formal publication date falls on 15th of March, but the copies themselves have now been delivered to Novel Press and are ready to find themselves new homes on other people’s bookshelves. Look to your right, scroll down a little bit, and you’ll see how easy it is to get your copy! I’m also hoping that some of these might land in temporary accommodation in Hong Kong bookshops, as well as some Independent booksellers in the UK.

As I’ve said below, there have been hopeful signs of interest, and a couple of days ago I was delighted to open an email from the editor of the online Lamma-zine, wanting to know where he could buy a copy of my new novel so that he or one of his team could write a review. At first I’d assumed that he must have heard about my book from my sister or one of her friends, but no, it was Google Alerts which had led him to this site. Hurray for Google!

Other March events include the latest copy of Writing Magazine, inside which, on pages 30 and 31, is an article entitled “Make your book unputdownable’” by Crysse Morrison in her regular ‘Good Practice’ slot. This series of articles is well worth reading, but that’s not all – the sub title is, “Hook your reader with a glimpse of the action and conflict to come”, and its main focus for the examples it gives is the novel, Telling Liddy, by Anne Fine, the award winning author of numerous books for children and eight for adults, and my second novel, Paper Lanterns. How’s that for company for unknown author!

I was delighted when Crysse told me that she wanted to use some quotations from Paper Lanterns for this article. There they are, under the subheading, ‘Enticing trailers’. There are three intertwined story lines in my novel, and three key dates. The main action of the book is set in the present, but both 1971 and 1930 are highly significant as well. I’d changed the opening chapters several times before I settled on a short prologue set in 1971, giving hints of what will unfold later in the book.

I gradually realised that I needed another, earlier, clue to the events of 1930, and Crysse goes on to say: “But the initial hook of this novel is an atmospheric fragment of oriental mystery from a later chapter when Ann (the main character) begins to uncover family secrets that will slowly burn away all the previous certainties of her life:

Friday 8th April, 1930, Hong Kong
“…and I had the oddest sensation – as though my soul – my very self – was a bright flame that now was shrinking, leaning away from him as from a gust of wind. And into my mind came the image of how the Chinese protect a small flame of light from being extinguished and at the same time, beautify it, with a delicate construction of coloured paper.”

A March event that I’m particularly looking forward to, and involves my new baby (Paper Lanterns, of course!) will take place in a coffee shop in the middle of Birmingham on the last Tuesday of the month. But more of that later.

I arrived back in the UK on Sunday (in spite of snow at Birmingham airport delaying my departure from Schipol airport for over three hours.) The main purpose of my short trip to Hong Kong was to visit my mother, still going strong at the age of 93. She is staying with my sister on Lamma Island, the setting for a large part of my novel Paper Lanterns.

It was mere luck that I’d taken delivery of several copies of my book two days before I was due to fly out to Hong Kong. I couldn’t waste this chance of finding a home for my new novel in some of the book shops there. (This photo of me holding copies of my book was taken by my sister, in front of the same view that I’d used for the cover of the book itself.)

I soon discovered that my timing wasn’t all that brilliant when it came to marketing: this picture of the ferry pier on Lamma might give you a clue.

Those bright red globes and the strings of coloured flags are there to mark the Chinese New Year, an event that stretches over several days, during which, most businesses shut down. Not an auspicious week for arranging meetings!
But I was lucky after all, as the organiser of the prestigious Hong Kong Literary Festival was able to make time for me last Thursday morning, two days before I was due to return home. She was interested in my brand new publishing house, Novel Press, and very encouraging about the chances of my book in Hong Kong. She gave me several useful contacts: I made a few phone calls, sent a few emails and was invited by two of the three main bookshop chains to post them a copy of Paper Lanterns.

More exciting still, was the email I received from the third company, asking if I could meet with the manager the following afternoon. This publishing business is heady stuff! I arrived at the address, a large bookshop in the bustling shopping area of Kowloon, and focussed on the table displaying books with Chinese connections, both general interest and fiction. It didn’t seem an impossible dream that copies of Paper Lanterns might soon be lying among them, face up, waiting to be lifted from the pile and taken to the till.

A few minutes later, I was following a young sales assistant out of the bookshop door, and into the office part of the building, where I was ushered into the manager’s office, a charming and efficient young woman. She was particularly interested in the real-life love letters which provided the inspiration for a central section of the novel. I’ll explain more about these letters soon.

Bookshops in the UK usually tend to accept books on a sale-or-return basis, and it would be unlikely that a store would order more than one or two copies from an unknown author. When the books in question have to delivered from the other side of the globe, returning them to the publisher wouldn’t be a viable option. You can imagine my delight when the manager indicated that they might be able to accept 20 books to begin with!

Now I have to look into the cost of freight, yet one more step on the steep learning curve I’ve been treading since the inception of Novel Press.

Back to Chinese New Year for a moment - traditionally a time for giving plants and flowers. Huge crowds flock to Victoria Park in Central to select gifts for their families and friends from the Flower Market that lasts for several days, finishing on the night of the New Year’s Eve. But as you’ll see from this picture, there are also souvenirs on sale at stalls staffed by youngsters learning to develop an understanding of business.This is the year of the tiger, hence these tiger hats. In spite of the cold wind and rain, they never stopped smiling. If only we could have bottled this enthusiasm and good will!

Character, Plot and Place – three essential ingredients for a novel. I think I’d usually say that ‘Character’ is my priority, but today, ‘Place’ is on my mind. When I come to think of it, I tend to associate people with places where I see them most often.

Right now I’m in Hong Kong (as I mentioned in my post below) – more precisely, I’m on Lamma island, where the Ann, the main character in my book, Paper Lanterns, spends a week that changes her life. So it’s not surprising that I thought about Ann’s reaction to the island when I arrived there on Thursday afternoon:

“Now she’s close enough to see the long ferry pier jutting out into the still water of the bay, and the small flat-roofed houses nestling on the slope of the hill among tall trees. And there, on the near side of the pier, a tiny collection of wooden shacks on stilts, perched above the rocks on the shoreline, and behind these, a small inlet with a cluster of little boats.”

As I emerged onto the pier myself, I thought of Ann again, “ The first thing that strikes her is the row of bicycles that straddles the top bar of the railings on each side of the long, concrete pier.”

It’s the Chinese new year this weekend, and I was delighted to see the long line of bright red , tasselled paper lanterns swaying above the bikes in the breeze. There’s an air of excitement in the narrow main street of Yung Shue Wan, but it it looks as though the weather will be cooler than expected, and is likely to rain.

Still, at least I managed to get here – there was an hour or more when I thought we’d all have to go home again, while the plane full of passengers was waiting on the tarmac at Birmingham airport for our turn with the de-icer machine to clear the wings of the inch or so of snow that had just fallen. I’d not realized how disruptive even a centimeter of snow can be, when combined with zero temperatures. At least we won’t have snow and ice here.

In case you haven’t yet seen the cover of my book, I have to tell you that the lanterns on the cover are green, not red! The book will be on sale on this site next month, but meanwhile you can find out more about it here.

I’m often asked by readers of my first published novel, The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society, where I got the inspiration for my characters from, and I answer truthfully that they are all total inventions. And then I have to add that the disguise adopted by the main character, 75 year-old Agnes, was borrowed from a feisty septuagenarian I’d met in the gym, who always wore a baseball cap over her shoulder-length frizz of ginger hair. (If you haven’t read it yet, why not boorrow it from the libary, or buy it here, via Paypal!)

Yesterday morning I was sorting out the clothes for my trip to Hong Kong next Wednesday (more of that later!) while listening to Fi Glover on Saturday Live, and I was fascinated to hear about the inspiration for the Larkin family in The Darling Buds of May.

David Dell was eight when he and his 5 siblings were taken on his first ever holiday in a bulging bright blue van. He remembers stopping at the small village shop and the rare treat of being bought ice creams, but he hadn’t noticed the man staring at them from his car across the road, as one by one they emerged from the van.
Years later, it became clear that this man was H.E. Bates himself, observing the scene with a writer’s keen eye for detail: the description of this scene in his autobiography make this far more like fact than wishful supposition.

It was an oddly weird sensation for me as a listener, hearing David Dell explain how his entire family had been caught like butterflies and preserved between the pages of a book for generations to come. It must have been amazing for him when he came across that passage in H E Bates’ autobiography.

I’m always touched by real items from decades ago, such as letters or scribbled messages on the back of postcards. Gardening Husband is a keen collector of stamps and postcards from the Far East, but he usually doesn’t bother to read those messages. However, he does know that I’m more interested in the glimpses of real lives than the potential value of a rare picture or postage stamp, so when he came across a few letters and scraps of paper among a job lot of ephemera, he handed them to me.

At that time I was in the planning stage for a novel that would be mainly set in contemporary Hong Kong, a place I have visited several times because I have a sister who lives on Lamma, one of the outlying islands, and owns a beautiful shop in Central, selling antique oriental robes and other artefacts.

After reading these letters, written by an English woman in Canton in the early 1920s, and two other love letters four years earlier from a young Chinese girl to the same man, my brain went into overdrive. I didn’t know precisely how I would use these epistolic treasures, but of one thing I was sure: a significant section of the book would take place in the 20s or early 30s and the setting would be moved from Canton, to Hong Kong.

I’ll soon be posting more about these letters and how they feature in my new novel, Paper Lanterns . Meanwhile, I’ll be interested to hear about any other real-life material that other writers have transformed into fiction.

Why would anyone want to spend an hour with a self-declared ‘Foppish Buffoon’ in a darkened upstairs room in a pub in Islington on a rainy Thursday evening? Even if he is poet-in-residence on BBC Radio 4’s Saturday Live. Read on to find out why each of the 60 minutes added up to excellent value for the entrance fee.

My feelings about London are usually distinctly hostile. For me, on my frequent car journeys down to Sussex, it’s a blot on the landscape, the monster that spawned the nightmare of the M. 25. But last Thursday, on one of my occasional jaunts into its heart, I was reminded of how much I enjoy its variety, once I’m there.

As soon as I emerged from the bowels of the earth and climbed the steps to Hungerford Bridge, I breathed in the tang of the sea, the only thing I miss since moving to the Midlands. Then into the Festival Hall to meet my writer friend Crysse Morrison for a catch-up chat, lunch at Waggamamas, and a peaceful hour in the National Gallery relaxing in front of her current favourite, Seurat’s The Bathers. Like most people, I was familiar with the card-sized version of this picture, but I was stunned to see it taking up almost half the wall ( actually about 2 metres by 3). We sat for a long time, enjoying the calming scene and wondering about the lives of those boys.

The highlight of my day took place in the Red Lion in Islington, where our other writing friend, Roger Jinkinson joined us, and, best of all, my son. I had no idea what to expect of The Petty Concerns of Luke Wright, apart from this, taken from his website:

“Featuring some nipple-tweekingly awful teenage lyrics; sarcastic cricket commentators and the death of a very tight pair of jeans. Luke effortlessly mixes comedy and poetry as he tries to look past his own inflated ego and find out what really matters.”

He’s a whirlwind of energy, and I found his self-deprecating delivery hilarious and touching, both the preambles and the poems themselves. These were clearly differentiated by the use of a huge screen, letting us know that the monologue had morphed into the poem it was introducing, by the simple technique of displaying the poem’s title.

To get a feel of what the show was like, you’ll have to check out where it’s going to be performed next, and book your ticket. If you can’t do that, then buy the book. I was delighted to be able to do this, and extend my enjoyment of the evening by reading the poems on the train home.

As it says in the blurb on the cover of his book, “High Performance “ brings Luke Wright’s acerbic wit and high-energy performance style to the page, revealing the formal discipline underpinning much of his verse.

It was enlightening to see what the stream of words looked like on the page, and identify the internal and end-rhymes and half-rhymes. It confirms the importance of the visual aspect of poetry, and how this affects the way the poem works in the reader’s head, presenting more layers of meaning and understanding.

One of my favourites from the book is Family Funeral, with its precise choice of metaphors to pin down nostalgic memories and complex emotions:

“And so, as sure as seasons, they arrive -
relations last seen heavy as trifle
at some mid-childhood Sunday lunch …”

Take a look, and buy the book.

http://www.nastylittlepress.org/books/high-performance/

It’s still January, the double-faced month, so it’s not too late to mention books I’ve read in 2009 - especially a December book, and especially this one, which is so difficult to slot neatly into any category; neither one thing nor another, neither here nor there, and just when you think you’ve grasped its nature, it slips away, laughing: “A highly original and visual novel, brimming with delicious wit, The Milliner and the Phrenologist is a remarkable debut from Kay Syrad”

It’s written in a voice like no other that I’ve encountered in this or the last half of the previous century. Not that it’s archaic or old fashioned, though it is set in Victorian London. Quaint, perhaps, might be a better word, though that won’t do justice to its groundedness and other-worldliness, its frivolity and wisdom, ruthless honesty and tenderness. I was gripped from the first page to the last.

The characters are drawn with fine brush strokes, a few at a time, so that the reader can visualise their faces , gestures and clothing in minute detail, as they are gradually led to a fuller understanding of the inner workings of their minds.

Here is just one example, taken at random:

“As she was passing the tea rooms …she noticed John Motton sitting at one of the tables…He hadn’t seen her and she moved back slightly, so that she could watch him without being noticed. He was chewing what was probably some kind of meat sandwich, and it amused Alice to see his jaw bones moving in large regular circles. She could see his smooth temples becoming red and crinkly-veined, how his whiskery cheek hollowed and puffed…and Alice couldn’t take her eyes off him, for it seemed that he was never going to take a fresh bite.”

Here’s an extract of what’s said on the back cover:
“When Alice Heapy, an unusual and artistic young milliner, daringly sets up her own business, the mother of John Motton, eminent phrenologist, is amongst the first of her bourgeois and eccentric clients. Alice is intrigued by the phrenologist’s belief that he can determine his clients’ character and moral capacity by measuring their heads, whilst Motton is astonished at the power Alice’s poetic hats exert on the lives of his mother and her peculiar friends. But under each other’s exacting and increasingly hostile gaze, Alice and Motton begin to reveal—and, in desperation, attempt to conceal—their own characters.”

A few years ago, I’d been privileged to be in the same group as Kay for a series of monthly poetry seminars led by Mimi Khalvati, and although the other group members all produced good work, it was clear to me that Kay’s was an exceptional talent.

When I heard through the Cinnamon Press website that they were publishing Kay’s first novel, I was delighted for her, and impressed by the publishers for recognising and supporting this talent.

If you’re looking for a light, predictable holiday read, this book might not be for you. But if you want to wallow in delicious prose and enter a strange world whose characters will remain in your head and niggle away at you until you pick up the book and read it again, then I urge you to click on the link from Kay’s website, and buy it from Cinnamon Press.

Once you’ve read and enjoyed the book, that’s the time to use the link to Amazon and leave a review.

I’d love to hear your views if you do get hold of this book. And also if you have an unusual book to recommend.

A whole week since my last post! What have I been doing all this time? Apart from braving the ice and blizzards to get to work, (not too arduous really as it’s only three miles away and mostly on gritted roads), and enjoying snowy walks in Sutton Park and roaming freely around the golf-course down the road, I’ve been partying with a wonderfully eclectic bunch of bloggers to celebrate the first anniversary of Nicola Morgan’s (aka The Crabbit Old Bat’s) brilliant blog: Help I Need a Publisher.

No, I’m not being offensive – this is her own boast: ‘I am proud to be the first google result for “crabbit old bat”. My aim to help good writers means I’m glad to annoy hopeless ones with my acerbity. I’m with Thomas Mann: “A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.” ‘

I love that quote – it’s a great comfort when the going gets tough! Before I tell you more about Nicola’s party – I’m posting a picture that reminds me that the sky hasn’t been a continuous murky grey over the last couple of weeks, and because it reminds me of spring blossom.
Also, I want to show you the back cover of Paper Lanterns before you get so enthralled by reading all the interesting comments (186 at last count) and then get absorbed into the maze of amazing links. I was swallowed up for the whole of Sunday and any spare time I’ve had since then.

So take a look at this picture before you scroll down to the link that’ll deflect you from my site (I’m not trying to get rid of you! It’s just that if you’re anything like me, you’ll forget to drop back here again to post a comment too.)

If you haven’t been following my previous posts about the design of my book cover, and how readers have helped me select my final choice, you might need to take a quick look at the recent posts below. It’ll help you to see why I’m so delighted to have this particular scene on the back cover.

And now for the Crabbit Old Bat – I’m going to let her speak for herself, which she’s always ready to do: (a shrinking violet she’s not) –
But before you gatecrash the party, start with the pathetic fallacy: “IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT” (13th January) then soak up the HUGE NUMBER of helpful hints in WHERE DOES A STORY BEGIN, (12th Jan)
and THEN you’ll have earned your right to pick your way through the clusters of streamers and deflating balloons as you open new links to the blogs of the guests at Nicola’s Party

Have fun!!

Now that the designer has sent me the finished cover for Paper Lanterns, I can reveal which was the one that most people preferred. (If you’re new to this site, you might like to scroll down to the previous posts for information about the results of my Book Cover Design Challenge.)

As I’ve said in the post below, my own favourite was number seven. I loved the sea and the boats with the hills in the background (incidentally this part was based on one of my own photos from my recent visit to Lamma island, and a scene in Paper Lanterns takes place on this this beach.)
I liked the subtle way that the view of an English wood merged with the sea shore, while the tunnel through the trees on the bottom left gave the almost surreal impression that if you followed it, you might emerge on the hills on other side of the bay. (This was also based on one of my photos of a place that features in the novel.)

And here is a selection of what 23 other people said in support of my favourite:
- “ It is cleaner and crisper than the others but still conveys the Hong Kong angle and the green of mystery.”
-“I find number 7 interesting. If this book moves from Far East to England , (or vice versa), intends to take me down a tree-lined past, put me on a junk in some hidden bay -then the cover has got me fantasising. I shall read it anyway.”
-“cover seven is best for these reasons: a)Absence of sea shore in upper part gives greater sense of openness, freedom, mystery ,etc Also less cluttered (b) horizontal divide more pleasing (c) slight fuzzyness of transition also pleasing as paradoxically allows more distinction to be made between scenes (d) Nice vivid green colour in lower picture pleasing as gives refreshing feel of early summer”
-“ I think the colours work well and portray a bit more of the dark/light side of the book that you mention.”
-“I like cover 7 best, because it’s the most simple one – the text looks great and I do like the overall layout. “

BUT I COULDN’T IGNORE THE 84 PEOPLE WHO WANTED NUMBER 3 TO BE THE COVER FOR PAPER LANTERNS because:

-”I feel it stands out the most, very atmostpheric and sophisticated and covers most of the criteria you had stipulated.”
-“I think it’s probably because there is a tie up between the title and the picture that I don’t have to think about too much. In my experience, the average browser doesn’t have time to stand in a bookshop mulling over covers. They’ll go for the obvious. And no 3 is striking”
“I should go for number 3: honest, mood-evoking, promise of emotions not suspected…I’ll be looking forward to reading the book!”
-“I feel very strongly that no 3 is the best. I think it’s the clearest, most striking and it’s also quite reminiscent of Kate Morton’s covers (top half) and looking like a bestseller won’t do you any harm!”
-“…the one which to me is absolutely outstanding is cover number 3 - it is the only cover with lanterns on it; as there are 3 lanterns and your main characters are drawn from 3 generations, so there is symbolism in the imagery. Also the 3 generations of women in your story are central to the novel, and the 3 lanterns are central to the cover. For me, it far outshone the rest…”
-“….The lanterns allude to the title , but are not too much the red/gold/fringed chinese-restaurant-cliche type, which avoids your worry that the cover might suggest a more native-chinese theme. And the line they draw across the page reflects the separation of the 2 locales in a clearer way than the soft-focus divisions of the others.”
-“The lanterns are obvious… but …we view them from indoors. This suggests that we look past them to what is offered beyond the frame. I also like the trees better in number 3. You get a suggestion of ‘darkness to light’ and they look more quintessentially English than some of the others. You also get the contrast of the light and heat of the Orient with the more temperate summer weather in the other picture. This suggests different sorts of emotional intensity and experience…”

A big THANK YOU to everyone who took part in this challenge.
Although I still like number seven as a picture in its own right, I now feel that the one chosen by the majority is the best one for my book. But I was thrilled when the designer sent me the full cover version.
When you see the back cover you’ll understand why!

If you haven’t yet read about the Bookcrossers taking the winning numbers out of my hat, click here, or scroll down to read the previous post. (If you haven’t been aware of my Book Cover Design Challenge, you can find it in the Category on the right: COVER DESIGN for Paper Lanterns)

Before I’d set out on our publishing venture, Novel Press (click here for more info on this) I’d never paid much attention to the covers of books – I’d just assumed that I followed the general wisdom: ‘never judge a book by its cover’. Now I’ve learned otherwise. And lots of what I’ve learned about the importance of a book’s cover has come from the comments made by the one hundred and fifty (plus or minus) entrants.

As I’ve said below, there was one clear winner of all the seven on display, and this was the one that originally I’d liked least of all, and which has generated some of the most interesting comments.

In the time honoured manner of awards ceremonies, I’ll start at the bottom of the list of the chosen covers.

Cover Number 6 was selected by 3 people:
“ …it has a hint of mystery in the blurred woodland image, hinting at possible hidden past events, yet with the much clearer focus on the tunnel leading to light. We think it portrays an optimistic clear path ahead out of troubled times. The designer’s done a good job on all of them. I’m sure any would attract interest.”.

“I felt the 2 scenes contrasted yet merged better in that one.”

Cover Number 1 was selected by 8 people:
“I love the balance and the way it draws the eye, especially to the bottom left corner. This cover also feels more balanced with the book title just a little lower than in most of the other cover. Though cover 6 uses the same images, it doesn’t draw the eye in quite the same way.”

Cover Number 2 was selected by 10 people:
“I like the “strength” transmitted from the pushing of the central tree as if the light was the breaking of a new day/episode/a change in someone’s life.”

“Apart from the upper HK water vista - which does have beauty, peace and a sense of cover energy, it is the highest strength of the light intensity of sun beams through the trees in the lower half. A lit , wooded scene conveys both intrigue, an air of menace and loss but also, from the light intensity a real level of hope, peace and optimistic energy for the unknown ahead.”

Cover Number 5 was selected by 12 people:
“… number 5 like the perfume - I liked the layers of water and trees, possibly reflecting the complexity/combining of characters/cultures. I liked the sunshine/optimism of the trees too.”

“I think that this cover offers the best balance between both images and the forest scene looks far more magical than the garden scenes.”

“ it has a deeper sense of mystery in the image of the woods than the others (apart from number 2 which is slightly more cluttered”

Cover Number 4 was in 3rd place, selected by 21 people:
“4 avoids the ‘where are the lanterns?’ question but more importantly it hits the darker hints button best, matching the cover quote. The others seem too light to me.”