The Art of the Novella Series: Many of these novellas haven't ever been printed in book form (at least not on their own, as many novellas are included with short stories or with another novella, etc., to make the printing size of a regular book). The novella is a difficult thing--for writers as well as publishers--as it exists in this kind of in between space and is really based only on that in between length. But I think novellas that work have this crystalline impact that is kind of perfect. So here's Melville House's Art of the Novella Series:
Source for image: The Atlantic's "The Return of the Novella, the Original #Longread"
For better viewing pleasure, and to get an idea of size:
Source for image: Seminary Co-op Bookstores, 57th Street
Source for image: Melville House Books
So, bright color cover, consistent sans serif typeface, black title, white author name--really a quiet, attractive design that lets the writers speak for themselves, which makes sense when you're publishing (in some cases) lesser-known works from master writers. Also pictured in the bookstore window: Melville House's Neversink Library (the books with a white silhouette/cameo around the title/author. Fun fact: the pig silhouette is for the book Snowball's Chance by John Reed, a parody of Animal Farm, so it's appropriate that his cameo silhouette would be on the cover instead of a human head; also, the one on the right is for William Gerhardie's Futility [hence, the forehead against the wall/edge of the cover], so even though those covers are consistent as well, they have a little humor about them, too.
And one more Melville House series: the Last Interview, where Melville House publishes in book for the last interview with influential writers who have passed away:
Source for image: Melville House Books, the Last Interview gift bundle
Similar in some ways to the above--bright color, sans serif typeface, consistent design, but the use of the illustrations instead of photographs is an interesting choice and gives the series some levity, which seems somehow appropriate, to remember how these writers, who have taken on a larger-than-life status and are so respected, especially after they've died, to remember how they were human. In some ways, reading these would be like reading their last words, and that idea could go very maudlin, but the bright color and graphic quality of the illustrations prevent that while still lending some gravitas to the writers themselves, in my opinion.
