Last night I spent a large chunk of the evening with a bunch of books from my shelves, all with alternative covers wrapped around them.
Blimey! What a responsibility! It's like trying to name a baby.
I won't tell you which one I prefer, not yet (although you may be able to work it out from stuff elsewhere on the net).
Interestingly other people don't seem to be swaying me at this point. I took the covers into my partner's workplace this morning and listened to many different opinions, all different, but none of them changed what I'd already decided.
Actually they're all brilliant, which means it doesn't matter so much. All the same I have picked one, and I love it. Now I am faffing about with all the other MILLIONS of jobs that need doing. It feels like it will never end, but it is all most satisfying.