This cover has the raw energy of a seventh-grade history project titled “Medieval Sports and You!” and the graphic flair of a forgotten PowerPoint slide.
Let’s start with the weapons — or are they lacrosse sticks? Fencing foils? Custom fly swatters for aristocrats? We’ll never know, because these two color-clashing, copy-paste clip-art relics are the only visual elements on the cover, and they are crossed with the tension of two wet noodles left out overnight. The linework is thin. The gradients are sad. One stick is orange. One is black. Together, they represent… creative exhaustion.
Now for the typography. The title — The King’s Men — is delivered in a chunky, college sports font with an orange-and-black outline that looks like it was ripped straight from a high school wrestling flyer. It’s trying to be bold. It’s trying to be regal. It lands somewhere between “school spirit” and “DIY merch for a fictional team no one supports.”
The word “The” sits on its own line in a default-looking serif, like a title screen that didn’t finish loading. The type hierarchy is nonexistent. Is this supposed to be a dramatic fantasy saga? A sports memoir? A dystopian LARP rulebook? The design offers zero clues.
Let’s not ignore the white background, which radiates the sterile charm of an unbranded aspirin bottle. It’s a blank void — not minimalist, just completely vacant of aesthetic intent. There’s no texture, no color harmony, not even a hint of genre or emotion. It’s less “book cover” and more “placeholding graphic waiting for an actual designer.”
And then we have the author’s name, Nora Sakavic, dutifully placed at the bottom in the same clunky font as the title, as if to say, “Yes, I did sign off on this.” There’s no visual rhythm, no alignment consideration, just another block of orange-outlined text dangling on the page like a name tag at an awkward book convention.
To be clear: this cover isn’t bad in a chaotic, eye-melting way. It’s bad in a quiet, soul-depleting way. It whispers, “I was made quickly.” It mutters, “We didn’t think the visuals mattered.” It sighs, “Please imagine a better cover.”
In the kingdom of design, this isn’t royalty.
It’s the court jester who lost their colors — and their Canva login.