Some book covers whisper “read me.” Others shout. And then there’s Editorial License, which spells out “EDlTORIAL LICENSE” like a crossword puzzle designed by a minimalist with vertigo.

At first glance, it’s serene – a man and his dog on a beach, staring pensively at a horizon filled with metaphors. But just as you’re about to feel something, your eyes twitch upward and scream, “Why is the title split like a WordArt experiment from 1998!”

Yes, the layout decision to stretch “LICENSE” vertically up the side of a rock like the opening credits of Law & Order: Subtextual Crimes is brave. Brave like wearing crocs to a job interview.

And let’s talk genre confusion: Is this a heartfelt memoir? A courtroom thriller? A veterinary exposé about dogs who edit manuscripts? Who knows. The only thing we’re certain of is that someone earned a doctorate – and by god, we’re going to be reminded of it in all caps at the bottom of the cover.

At least the dog looks happy. Probably because he didn’t have to read this title layout.