The moment I saw Vanessa Williams' cover, its images drew me in. At first glance, I saw a tree swing in the woods, then I realized it was more like puppet strings and crinkled paper. If one stares at the crinkles long enough, like clouds in the sky, one begins to see images in the wrinkles, like the face of someone watching over (perhaps an angel). But maybe that's only my imagination and hope.

It feels odd to say that I love this cover. How can I love something that depicts such a tragedy? Yet I do like how it draws me in, makes me want to know more, makes me dare to care. What I can say is that I love how there is light in the dark, that the author tells a story of recovery and hope, a story that will perhaps help others who are

Afraid of the Dark

.

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