Hearts in Orbit dares to ask the question: what if a tree had a meltdown in space? The result is this fever dream of a book cover, where an interstellar willow weeps into the void, and design coherence floats just out of reach.
Let’s address the big, leafy elephant in the room: the tree. It’s less “Tree of Life” and more “Tree of Sad Lasagna Noodles.” Its limp, oozing fronds drip like it’s melting under the pressure of having to carry this entire cover’s aesthetic on its bark. It’s not clear if the tree is meant to be majestic, mystical, or just mildly damp—but it’s giving strong “cosmic salad spinner” energy.
Then, out of nowhere, we get smacked in the face with the bold purple band that reads Möbius Molly. Why? We don’t know. Who is she? Is she orbiting? Is she the tree? Is she the root of the problem? None of this is explained. Instead, her name is spray-painted across the middle of the tree like a misplaced band logo on a fantasy album cover. The font? A medieval sci-fi-metal mashup that suggests Molly moonlights as the lead guitarist in a Dungeons & Dragons-themed synthwave band.
But the real tragedy here is the actual title—Hearts in Orbit—relegated to the bottom in a font so different and detached it may have been added during a separate geological era. The typography clash is nothing short of an interplanetary collision.
Compositionally, the cover is a cobbled mess. The tree looks hand-painted, the backdrop suggests swirling galactic ink blots, and the typography is practically screaming from three different corners of the genre multiverse. Romance? Fantasy? Sci-fi? Etsy wall art? You tell us, because this cover certainly won’t.
And then there’s the color palette. Muted earth tones mixed with random black space swirls and a violently purple band. It’s as if someone tried to design with a Magic 8 Ball and kept getting “Ask again later.”
Hearts in Orbit could have been a poetic space romance, a touching sci-fi epic, or even an avant-garde love story rooted in metaphor. Instead, we’re left orbiting confusion, spiraling around a tree that looks like it gave up halfway through photosynthesis.
So congratulations, Hearts in Orbit. You’ve taken cosmic love and rooted it in a black hole of design chaos.