Possibly in a new jacket; views pls.
Cool. Maybe the dot of the “i” should be a football! Bit cliche-d, I suppose. I liked the first cover too.
How does it look as a thumbnail on screen?
It’ll be bigger than that on Amazon though?
I liked the original, too. But we’re not playing games here. That cover looks professional; very striking; has both teams’ colours, and says everything it needs to say unless you want to add a subtitle. Nice one Boy.
Professional was the word that sprang instantly to mind when it came up on the screen. I think the blue dot of the ‘i’ maybe over-egging the pudding. It also takes one’s focus off the title. Now a white dot may have the same effect.
I would be inclined to go with this version. That should immediately raise a red flag and make you go with the original. 😉
Oi Winger – too bland in my humble opinion, The Final suggests something grand not bland. Get them Oatcakers on the case, they’ll sort it and get you some great publicity along the way!
Rob, winger is fey and minimalist. ‘Splains it all. 😉
I like the subtle way the red is squishing the blue down and off the page 😉
Much sharper than the former incarnation!
Don’t like the blue dot or blue line in the upper red section.
Keep red and white to top and the blue and white down below. (where it belongs!)
Can’t wait to lift virtual cover and digest contents.
Apologies for such brief comments but full of cold and feeling like sh**e! But wanted to share views 🙂
I agree, I would remove all the blue from the top section.
Forgive me ladies, but I have to disagree. To me, the blue is a subtle way of bringing Manchester City into the equation. Bear in mind that if winger can get this thing off the ground, he will have two basic audiences: Stoke city fans, and Manchester City fans. Also bear in mind that Manchester City fans outnumber Stoke City ones. So, I see the cover representing mainly Stoke colours of red and white, but the blue you refer to is their team breaking the barriers we put up to stop them winning. And the blue dot on the ‘i’ of Final is that damned ball penetrating us (nothing gay there 🙂 ) to deliver the coop de grass. 😉
Nice and professional like it x Love Mum x
Well said, Sigmund. 😉
Now available to buy on your electronic paraphernalia at Amazon
Don’t forget to put a review on Amazon
Just finished the book and it was an excellent read despite bringing back the disappointment all over again!
Definitely worth downloading the Kindle Android app just for this.
Has the author retired on his profits? 😦
Entertain me dagnammit!
I was thinking the same.
I need my Foster fix!
Very sad news. Our best wishes.
Well done on the book Stephen! The covers good clean unfussy lines work well. Just visiting your blog for the first time in ages. I’ve finished my degree and I am now the proud bearer of a BA Honours Second Class in Art and Design…….HOO BLOODY RAH AND THANK GOD THAT’S OVER!!!!!!!! Your support and fellow bloggers really did help me at a very stressful time. I’ve just pestered your pal Calvin for info on his lovely website, I must not rest on my laurels (where does that saying come from)? I must get cracking on starting my business proper and…… paint, paint, paint! I had noticed your absence from the blog and the last post, whatever the sad news is, I hope you will be OK Stephen. Love and peace X
Just read the dreadful news and would like to send my condolances to Stephen’s family and close friends.x
There is a terrible cruelty and incongruity in writing here, as Stephen did, when he is no longer able to. Perhaps it is wrong of me to address what has happened, and even now I can only do so obliquely, but one of my many deficiencies is that I’m not a football fan, so the Oatcake blog is not for me. Sometimes you touch, elusively, upon someone who has a warmth that transcends generations and a humanity that is concerned not with what you have but with who you are. I thought at first, when the blog remained unwritten, that Stephen’s mother was more poorly, and now I think of her often in these most unnatural of circumstances and send her all the strength that I can. It might not help but surely cannot harm. It seemed as if there was some courteous otherworldly happenstance that Old Stokie was with Trezza, and I felt relieved that Stephen had been in the company of those who deeply loved him. Stephen encouraged me to write, and when I couldn’t he was incredibly supportive about my photographs. He was never precious or possessive about the profound realisation of self which he divined from the creative process. I meant to tell him about the Caillebotte exhibition that I missed in Paris – not having realised that there were brothers and one was a photographer. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had hated them, he would have understood the nourishment that we all receive when art calls to us. I feel outraged that he can’t express his pleasure to Pel. I regret that I didn’t know him better or longer. But the person I did know and meet was a gentle-man, in the sense that he had such preternatural and sublime integrity he was effortlessly kind and wise to others when dealing with creative offerings, be they poetry, art, fiction or observations from life. There was more bravery and generosity in Stephens honesty than in the fine words of the false who, as they say around here, never buttered no parsnips. There is also joy that he saw Stoke to a cup-final. How bloody grand is that?
On Saturday morning I sat down to eat breakfast before I was to get ready for my friends wedding. I thought I would have another quick look on Stephen’s blog to see if he had posted anything, although I still had no email notifications, I just wanted to know if he was OK.
I started reading Ovookla’s post and I couldn’t quite get to grips with what I was reading. After I had finished I still didn’t know exactly what was going on, so with apprehension, I Googled news on Stephen. What I read was such a shock and I wanted to know why this had happened, what was he doing, how could he drown? I felt dreadful, although I didn’t know him personally.
I attended my friends wedding and I prayed for Stephen and his family. I was later to read that his memorial was also on Saturday, so it was some comfort to think that I may have been standing still, praying and thinking of Stephen at the same time as his friends and family.
I hadn’t had the good fortune to meet Stephen in person. I stumbled on the blog when I was doing research for my art degree, I was looking for info on Gerhardt Richter, one of my favourite artists and found that he was also a favourite of Stephen’s. Then, looking more at the blog, I found we had similar tastes in music too, an interest in food and a love of animals, although I am not into football. I remember cheekily wondering if he had a partner, because he sounded like my ideal man, so I jokingly posted what was to be the blogs first marriage proposal……sorry Trezza, I didn’t flirt again after I realised he was taken.
I’m not the greatest at putting words together myself, but have enjoyed the communication on the blog and even when I didn’t make a comment, it gave me many a chuckle when I read the banter between Stephen, Old Stokie – and all of you.
It became obvious to me that Stephen was one of those special people that I call modern day saints, he was a guru! I think Ovookla has summed up Stephen’s character already, he also gave me some good advice when I was disillusioned with my art degree, as did other kind people on the blog and he even sent me a personal email of encouragement, which was such a lovely thing to do and it did really help. I contacted Calvin Palmer asking him for details about his website after finding him here and he kindly sent me the info I needed. I was so looking forward to sending Stephen my new website address, he never saw my work. I have a blog which was mainly for the purpose of course work assessments, I wish now that I hadn’t been too shy to send it to Stephen, and yes Ovookla, it is such a damn shame I couldn’t share my good news with him, but I think he knows.
For Stephen’s family, my heart felt thoughts are with you. I am fifty-four, I lost my mother to cancer when I was twenty-nine and then my brother when he was thirty-nine and I was thirty-three, they both suffered, it was a truly tragic time for me, but somehow I made it through. My father who is now ninety-two and has cancer, lost his wife and his son, but somehow carried on. I was so close to my brother, he was a great artist, so talented and he was also an enthusiastic writer, he was my mentor.
Why do the good and great often die young?
Thank you Stephen XXXXX
Peace and love to you all XXXXX
It wasn’t until last night that I was told of Stephen’s death. I’d been looking at this blog and wondering why he hadn’t updated it (never thinking of looking at his fans comments). Originally I thought he was away on holiday or something. This has come as a real shock and I’m still very stunned by the sad news. Last year I had emailed Stephen asking if I could send him my copy of ‘And She Laughed No More’ for him to sign. He very kindly sent me a brand new signed copy of his book, free of charge. In Stephen, I had a personal hero.
His writing inspired me to begin my own writing career and with my first book due out next month, I had asked Stephen if he would have the time to write a Forward for the book. Stephen agreed and had said he was looking forward to reading the manuscript. We’ve all lost a hero. The man was an inspiration and I will never forget him.
For those who have not seen it, I did this.
… which represents the great times we had together. 😦
Thanks OS, that’s good to see.
I’m so sorry you’ve lost your very special chum. X
There’s a small but shining comfort in finding that Pel, Lee and I all found Stephen to be as he was, and the remarkable consistency of our experiences, and a great deal of comfort in OS’s compilation. I hope Pel that you will put a link to your website, and you too Lee will let us know about your book, either here if that seems appropriate or if OS could be so kind, on his website.
That would be nice, Ovookla.
Trezza’s fella was not perfect (who of us are?), but just being in his company was special. He was the catalyst that made the Berlin Stokies tick. Just to see him arriving late made you giggle. On one occasion, we were in Berlin waiting to board a boat for a river trip. It was almost 100 degrees in the shade. He decided he needed suncream. Off he went and we all waited around for him to get back. Twenty-five minutes we stood in the burning heat, and then he came back with that daft look and his man-bag swinging. I asked him if he’d found any. He fiddled in his man-bag and produced the teeniest, weeniest bottle of suncream I’ve ever seen. Maybe 5ml. I gave him ‘the glare’, and told him he was an utter bastard for making us wait in the sun so long. We waited anoher 15 minutes in the hot sun and caught an open boat. Without saying a word, he turned in his seat, gave me the suncream and said, “Put this on my neck OS.” We looked each other in the eyes and both began to laugh. Then I put the suncream on him. 😉 That’s why I’m still angry. 😦
I can see that little vignette so clearly OS. Thanks for telling us about it. And you’re right to be angry, I felt it in a smaller way myself with Trezza’s fella, a phrase which has a lovely ring. I was thinking last week how angry I was when my mum died. She was that generation that you literally couldn’t get out of the house without having a meal, breaking bread with them so to speak. And Dad would pile you up with veg and fruit and phlox and pinks, peppery English garden smells, tied in newspapers with green string. And when she died I knew that it was the last time I would have one of those meals put down in front of me, a meal without expectation, without having to take note of the transaction for later. She was from Glasgow, and so excited a Labour government got in before she died in 98 as she found the number of beggars on the streets just so distressing, reminding her of Glasgow post WWI. And in the sixties even the French onion sellers and the rag and bone men were sat down for bacon and eggs, ‘Good guid man! Get that wet coat off youse and sit down, that wind wud cut the legs off youse!’ and I felt a similar sort of sadness and anger at Stephen’s loss. Because the way she was with food was similar to the generosity, as Pel and Lee attest above, to the support he sgave to creative endeavours. But I felt a bit whiny and narcissistic about Mum, and similar about Stephen because none of this is about me. And anger is a curious bedfellow so near to death in that you feel you want to avoid anything which is close to violence since that has already been done in the person being wrenched away. I haven’t any answers for that…..
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