Behind the Cover
- Kristen Alderman
- Jun 22
- 6 min read

Today is the day I get to show you the cover of my next book.
I have been sitting on this image for weeks. Quietly. I have opened the file on my laptop more times than I can count, sometimes when I needed a reminder of what I am working toward. Sometimes when I needed a reminder that the work is real.
Today I get to put it in your hands.
I want to spend today’s post telling you the story of this cover — because every choice on it was deliberate, and because I think the story will tell you more about the book than any back-cover copy could.
The Brief
When I was working on the cover with a trusted friend, three things came up.
First — this book is not soft.
Most books in the women’s Christian living space have soft covers. Watercolor florals. Calligraphy script. Pastels. They communicate: come sit down, friend, we are going to have a gentle conversation.
That is not this book.
This book is honest. It is uncomfortable. It is going to sit in your chest for a few weeks after you finish it. I needed a cover that warned you, just a little, before you opened the first page.
Second — this book is not for the woman who already has it figured out.
So many books in this genre lean into aspiration. The model on the cover is smiling. The styling is polished. The vibe is, if you read this book, your life will look like this image.
That sells. I understand why it sells.
But it is not honest, and it is not what I am offering. I am offering the opposite. I needed a cover that signaled, from across a Barnes & Noble aisle: this book sees you, and you do not have to clean up before you pick it up.
Third — this book is rooted in Scripture.
Whatever we did, the cover needed to feel grounded. Substantial. Not trend-driven.
Not Instagrammable for its own sake. It needed to feel like a book that would still feel honest if someone picked it up in fifteen years.
That was the brief.
The Drafts That Did Not Make It
You should know that the cover you are looking at was the third major direction we explored.
The first direction was very clean — a single white background with the title in a serif font. Sophisticated. Adult. We held that direction for two weeks before I realized it felt like a book about productivity, not a book about hiding.
The second direction was very vulnerable — a woman in shadow, partly turned away from the camera. We held that direction for almost a month. I almost approved it. Then one morning I looked at it and thought, this looks like a memoir of trauma. That is not what this book is.
The book is not the trauma. The book is the answer to the trauma. The cover needed to point toward grace, not just toward pain.
That is when we landed on what you are looking at now.
The Choices, Decoded
A few things about this cover that I want you to notice, because they are not accidents.
The Color.
The vibrant green is a color that has shown up in my work off and on for years. It is the color of the design palette I use across a lot of my client work.
But more than that — green is the color of growth. Of life that is still happening. Of seasons that are still in progress.
A lot of books about shame use dark, heavy colors — black, deep gray, navy. This book refuses that visual cue, on purpose. Because shame is not the final word.
The Typography.
The title font is a refined serif — substantial, grounded, traditional. It says: this book is theologically rooted. Not gimmicky. Not chasing a trend.
The subtitle is in a softer sans-serif — more conversational, more intimate. It says: but also, friend, I am talking to you. Specifically.
The contrast between those two fonts is the whole book. Substance and intimacy. Theology and friendship. The Word and the kitchen table.
The Layout.
You will notice the title is offset. Not centered. Slightly imperfect.
That was deliberate. Centered titles communicate certainty, polish, I have arrived. This book is none of those things.
The offset says: we are still in process. The book is in your hands, but the work is still happening.
The Author Name.
My name is smaller than most authors will let theirs be on a cover. I wanted it that way.
The book is not about me. The book is about you. My name is the door you walk through to get to the message, but the message is the whole point. I wanted the cover to look the way the book reads.
The Morning I Cried In The Coffee Shop
When I finished the final version of this cover, the one you are looking at right now, I was at my usual coffee shop on a Wednesday morning.
I looked at the screen for about thirty seconds.
And then I started to cry.
The kind of crying you try to do quietly because you are in public. The kind where you turn your face toward the wall so the barista does not feel obligated to come check on you. The kind where you cannot tell if you are sad or relieved or grateful or all three.
I cried because the cover was right.
For ten years I have been carrying around a book that lived only in my head. I have written drafts. I have abandoned drafts. I have rewritten drafts. I have told audiences from stages, “I am working on a book on shame,” and watched their eyes politely move on because everyone is working on a book.
And on that Wednesday morning, the book I had been carrying around in my heart for a decade became a real thing with a face.
I sat in that coffee shop and I texted my one of my closest friends, my mentor, my Neanie.
And then I sat there for another twenty minutes, just looking at her.
Her.
Because that is what the cover is, to me. It is her, the woman this book is for. Maybe it is you. Maybe it is the friend you are going to send this post to.
She is the reason the book exists.
What This Means For Pre-Orders
If you have been waiting to see what this book looks like before deciding whether you want a copy, friend, here you go.
Pre-orders open later this summer. I will tell you the exact date soon. If you want to be the first to know, and to get early access to the book club kit I am building for women’s ministry leaders, the email list is below. That is where the launch team announcements will live.
I also want to ask you something quietly:
If this cover speaks to you, will you share this post?
Not with a long caption. Just send it to one woman. Or post the cover image on Instagram and tag me. Or print it out and put it on your refrigerator. Whatever feels right.
A book cover is just an image until people start carrying it around with them. The thing that turns a cover into a book everyone is talking about is the slow, generous work of readers sending it to readers.
I am going to need you for that. And I am asking now.
What Is Next
This is the first of several book milestones I will share over the next few months. Coming up:
• A first chapter excerpt
• The book club kit reveal (built for women’s ministry leaders running this as a group study)
• An invitation to the launch team if you want to help spread the word when the book drops
• The actual pre-order go-live announcement
The fastest way to be in the loop is the email list. Drop your name below, and I will not flood your inbox. You will hear from me once a week, with the same honest voice you have come to expect.
She is real now. Things We Hide. Coming this fall.
I cannot wait for you to read her.
Grace and Grit, Kristen



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