Work With an Illustrator: A Self-Publishing Guide - Part 1

When Scott emailed me about illustrating his debut YA novel, Alistair Doolittle, I was in the thick of my master’s. Busy season, but the project felt right. We agreed to take our time so every decision served the story: mood, pacing, and the kind of clarity that still reads at thumbnail size.

I’m sharing our process because a first book can feel intimidating. You want art that feels like your story, not just a pretty picture. You want fewer revisions and a cover that stands confidently next to the books you love. Here’s how we got there, step by step, with small decisions that prevented big headaches.

If you’re a debut or self-publishing author, you don’t just need pretty art; you need a process that keeps momentum, aligns with your vision, and produces a cover that sells the premise while interiors support the read. In this series, I walk through the exact workflow I used for Scott Werth’s debut cover and chapter illustrations, and some of the books I illustrated in the past, what I’ll ask from you, and where key choices happen so we can cut revisions and reach quality with confidence.

Checkpoint 1: Moodboard → a shared language

We gather comparable titles and images you love (and why), tone words, color lean, must-include motifs, favorite covers, and any photos that inspired this story. I add visual notes, what to lean into and what to avoid.

Your task: build a simple moodboard, a visual collage of images, covers, film stills, textures, and locations. It doesn’t have to be perfectly arranged. I encourage authors to take their time (often 1–2 months) because this becomes the groundwork for your book.

Why this matters: As an author, your first language is words; for many illustrators (me included), it’s images. My job is to translate your words into pictures, and we need shared visuals to do that well. A solid moodboard removes guesswork, turns feedback into specifics (“more of this lighting,” “less of this type weight”), and protects both your timeline and our creative momentum.

Teamwork note: Don’t say “yes” just to move fast. Misaligned approvals often lead to redraws and can drain energy on both sides. It’s kinder and more efficient to pause and clarify early.

How to build it (quick guide):

• Start a private Pinterest board or Behance collection.

• Pin 15–30 items: covers you love (and don’t), scenes, palettes, textures, settings.

• Add a one-line note to each: love the contrast, prefer warmer skin tones, type feels too heavy.

• Include 3–5 comp titles and what draws you to them.

• Add 3–5 “avoid” examples with why they’re not right for this book.

What I’ll do with it: I’ll annotate patterns, propose a focused direction, and outline what we’ll lean into (and avoid) before I sketch. That shared clarity cuts revisions later and keeps the process calm.

Checkpoint 2: Sketch → the story’s spine

The sketch plans the composition, eye flow, and where the title and author name will live. I sketch with type zones in mind so the cover reads instantly and the art has room to breathe.

Why it matters: This is where layout friction disappears. When the groundwork / the moodboard is strong, the skeleton is strong, and the later stages stay calm.

Small practice that helps: Name the vibe early. For Scott, we kept “twisty, late-night read” on the board; it guided palette, lighting, and typography choices.

If you’re prepping your first cover, have these ready when you hire an illustrator:

• 1–2 paragraph synopsis

• 3–5 comparable covers you like (any genre) + a note on why

• Images or films with a similar vibe

• The colors you imagine for this story

• How you want readers to feel while reading

• Tone keywords (e.g., moody, hopeful, high-stakes)

• Must-include objects/symbols

Why this matters: As an author, your first language is words. For many illustrators (me included), our first language is images. My job is to translate your words into pictures—and words alone rarely carry the whole vision. Clear visual references give us a shared starting point, reduce guesswork, and bring clarity to both author and illustrator. Think of the moodboard as our dictionary: it turns “I want it to feel tense but hopeful” into specific palettes, lighting, and composition choices.

Where to gather visuals: Start with a private Pinterest board or a Behance collection. Pin covers you love (and don’t love), film stills, textures, palettes, and even location photos. Add a quick note under each: “love the contrast,” “like the type placement,” “too dark for my story.” Those tiny comments make direction faster and revisions fewer.

Why I’m writing this series

I’ve worked with many self-published authors, often on debut passion projects, and I know clarity helps everyone. Since I began illustrating in 2020, my process has evolved. I’ve made mistakes, learned from them, and built a workflow that helps both sides communicate. Before illustration, I worked in customer service, teaching, administrative support, marketing, and as a senior graphic designer. That mix taught me how to listen, translate ideas, and set up simple systems that reduce friction.

This isn’t rocket science or a rigid formula. We’re human; timelines shift and surprises happen. A good process gives us a steady path and enough flexibility for the creative magic that appears when we navigate change together.

Next: Part 2 — Palette lock & rendering.

If you’d like updates when each part goes live, subscribe to my newsletter (one practical tip a month). For behind-the-scenes and process reels, I share on Instagram. Thanks for being here. I hope this step helps you feel clearer about your visual book journey.