Ah yes, King of the Carousel, the book that dares to ask the question: “What if a carousel horse had deep, unspoken trauma… and you stared at it for an uncomfortably long time?”
At first glance, you might assume this is a graphic novel about haunted amusement park rides, or perhaps a forgotten art textbook illustration on “the evolution of dental expressions in equine fiberglass.” But no, dear reader — this is apparently a serious book. Or at least one that took itself seriously enough to put “Written by:” on the cover like a fourth-grade book report.
Let’s talk about the photography, which can only be described as stock image meets clip art in witness protection. Our star steed — possibly named Greg — is rendered in the kind of glossy plastic that screams “estate sale reject” more than “regal monarch of the carousel realm.” Its lifeless eyes stare into a void that reflects our own confusion, while its bridle looks like it was cobbled together from a belt clearance bin at a Ross Dress for Less.
And then there’s the font. “KING” blares at you in all caps like it’s about to crown itself emperor of all boring typefaces. Below it, “of the Carousel” sheepishly trails behind like a sad subtitle that knows it’s been demoted. Meanwhile, “Written by: Ruby D. Pinto” huddles in the bottom right corner like it’s apologizing for being here in the first place. Never has a font looked more like it showed up late and tried to blend into the background.
There is no background, by the way. Just an abyss. A black hole of design choices where creativity went to die. No setting, no story hints, not even a lazy sparkle or carnival light bulb. It’s just you and this horse. Forever.
In the pantheon of Horrible Covers, this one is a carousel that never spins, a saddle that never fits, and a ride that goes absolutely nowhere.