Showing posts with label Robert McGinnis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert McGinnis. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Slice of P.I.: “Darker Than Amber”

(Part of a series celebrating fictional private eyes.)



Darker Than Amber, by John D. MacDonald (Fawcett Gold Medal, 1982). Cover illustration by the great Robert McGinnis.

Originally published in 1966, this was MacDonald’s seventh outing for Travis McGee, a handsome Florida houseboat resident, former footballer, and sometimes gumshoe, who calls himself a “salvage consultant”—meaning he recovers valuable lost property for a fee equal to 50 percent of its value. He also helps people get out of trouble with the police. The blog Cannonball Read provides this plot summary:
Travis McGee and his trusted friend Meyer are fishing in a secluded location late one night when a car stops on the bridge overhead. Next thing they know a woman wearing cement shoes is thrown into the water and sinks to the bottom. Acting quickly, McGee is just barely able to get her out alive. Once she’s recovered from the shock, she tells them the shocking story. A beautiful young woman, Evangeline (“Vangie” to her friends) has been a prostitute since she was a teenager, and found herself wrapped up with a gang of criminals who target lonely, foolish men with money to spend and no one to miss them. She’s vague on the details, but Vangie eventually grew a conscience and was nearly killed for it.

Once she learns about McGee’s line of work …, Vangie wants his help getting her nest egg back. She’s been squirreling away money in case she ever needed an escape. She’s willing to split it with McGee if he can help. McGee could use the money, since his “retirement fund” is running low, but he’s also drawn to something more. Feeling a duty to Vangie since he saved her life, and unable to shake the image of all those men the gang has disposed of, McGee wants to take down the whole operation.
It’s been a long while since I last read this book, but my memory is that—befitting its title—it is somewhat darker than many McGee yarns, with renowned economist Meyer playing a most substantive sidekick role. Those ingredients might have contributed to film director Robert Clouse’s decision to bring this story to the screen, as he did in 1970, with Australian actor Rod Taylor playing McGee. (That was a year before Taylor co-starred with Dennis Cole in the TV crime/adventure historical series Bearcats!) At least for now, you can watch the entirety of Clouse’s Darker Than Amber on YouTube.

Sunday, April 20, 2025

McGinnis’ Original Visions

(Above) Murder Is My Business, by Brett Halliday (Dell, 1963).


I hadn’t expected to be writing again about Ohio-born artist and illustrator Robert McGinnis so soon after we celebrated his 99th birthday on this page in February. But the news, broadcast two weeks ago, that he’d died on March 10 left me wanting to make another visit to his impressive portfolio of work, amassed over six decades.

Originally, I thought about creating a gallery of my favorite McGinnis paperback covers—something along the lines of what vintage book collector Tim Hewitt posted in Killer Covers two months ago. But I found it hard to narrow down my choices. An initial list included everything from John Trinian’s North Beach Girl and George Bagby’s Dead Wrong to M.E. Chaber’s A Lonely Walk, A.S. Fleishman’s The Venetian Blonde, and David Lodge’s Angel’s Ransom. By the time my picks exceeded 50 in number, I knew I could not match Hewitt’s half-dozen limit.

(Right) Never Kill a Client, by Brett Halliday (Dell, 1963).

Another option was to look back at the James Bond movie posters McGinnis painted over the years—some of which took liberties with the films’ contents. But this artist’s demise was already followed by new attention paid to those gorgeous one-sheets.

In the end, I realized that I’d drawn much attention in Killer Covers to how his artwork was incorporated into paperback fronts—together with title type, bylines, and publisher identifications—yet had rarely showcased his original pieces. So let me rectify that imbalance a bit today. This post features 22 of the best paintings he produced for books during the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s. Most focus on what have been labeled “McGinnis Women,” lithe and luscious lovelies who simultaneously seduce ... and express unapproachability. The artist frequently manipulated human proportions on his canvasses, making figures taller than the 7.5 heads high they usually are, pushing them to eight or nine heads tall and extending legs beyond what one would expect. The results were captivating and made his women, especially, distinctive.

With each painting here, I have provided a link to show how it was eventually presented in book form. If there are other excellent examples you think should have been added to this gallery, please drop a note about them into the Comments section below.


A Murderer Among Us, by Carter Brown (Signet, 1969).


Kill the Clown, by Richard S. Prather (Fawcett Gold Medal, 1973).


Assignment: Peking, by Edward S. Aarons (Gold Medal, 1969).


Assignment—Sorrento Siren, by Edward S. Aarons (Gold Medal, 1963).


Murder Me for Nickels, by Peter Rabe (Gold Medal, 1960).


A Peak in Darien, by Roswell G. Ham Jr. (Avon, 1960).


The Aseptic Murders, by Carter Brown (Signet, 1972).


Charlie Sent Me! by Carter Brown (Signet, 1963).


Exit Dying, by Harry Olesker (Dell, 1959).


False Scent, by Ngaio Marsh (Crest, 1961).


Death Comes Early, by William R. Cox (Dell, 1961).


Trouble—Texas Style, by John Bramlett (Gold Medal, 1964).


Nymph to the Slaughter, by Carter Brown (Signet, 1971).


The Eighth Circle, by Stanley Ellin (Dell, 1959). This is the first of four different covers shown here that employ McGinnis’ signature One Shoe Off motif. Can you find the other three?


Mum’s the Word for Murder, by Brett Halliday (Dell, 1964).


The Man Inside, by M.E. Chaber (Paperback Library, 1970).


As Old as Cain, by M.E. Chaber (Paperback Library, 1971). Bob McGinnis evidently took performers Goldie Hawn and James Coburn as his models for this painting. But he originally imagined Hawn in the nude. That was apparently too much for Chaber’s publisher, because the finished cover finds her wearing a bikini.


The Girl Who Cried Wolf, by Hillary Waugh (Dell, 1958). McGinnis’ alternative art for that novel can be seen here.


Beebo Brinker, by Ann Bannon (Gold Medal, 1962).


The April Robin Murders, by Craig Rice and Ed McBain (Dell, 1959).

Friday, April 4, 2025

Never to Be Matched: McGinnis Is Gone

(Above) The Case of the Duplicate Daughter, by Erle Stanley Gardner (Pocket, 1962). Cover illustration by Robert McGinnis.


Art Scott, co-author of the gorgeous 2014 book The Art of Robert E. McGinnis, brought me the sad news today that McGinnis—who became famous by painting covers for paperback books and posters for Hollywood films—died in Old Greenwich, Connecticut, on March 10. That was just a month after I posted on this page my latest tribute to him, tied to his 99th birthday.

Here is an excerpt from McGinnis’ obituary, written by two of his children and posted at the online memorial site Legacy.com:
Bob was one of the most prolific illustrators of the 20th century. It’s likely you have seen one or more of his artwork images somewhere. They appeared in magazines such as The Saturday Evening Post, National Geographic, Good Housekeeping, McCall’s, Reader’s Digest and Guideposts; on very many book covers (especially paperback books, spanning many genres, from Detective to Mystery to Gothic to Historical Fiction to Romance to Fantasy); in the form of personal-project paintings that included many Old West scenes; and also on movie posters for culturally significant movies (and also on soundtrack album covers). In our biased opinion, Bob was the very best of the James Bond/007 artists, having created exciting images for the posters for movies such as Thunderball, You Only Live Twice, Diamonds Are Forever, Casino Royale (parody movie), and Live and Let Die. In 1993, Bob was inducted into the Society of Illustrators Hall of Fame. This was a tremendous honor for Bob. He said he had to have three drinks before walking up to the podium to deliver his acceptance speech; he was a shy and unpretentious person.

Born in Cincinnati on February 3, 1926, Bob never allowed the limited vision in one of his eyes to slow him down: playing as number 74, left tackle, on the Ohio State University undefeated team of 1944, working as a teenage apprentice at Walt Disney Studios (he met Walt), and serving on boats in the Merchant Marines right before WWII ended. He was a man’s man. Among other things, he loved fishing with friends and his son, socializing with other artists and cartoonists and writers (he was friends with some of the top illustrators and gallery artists of his generation), and playing poker with a group of friends. He reveled in being surrounded by nature, whether it was as a kid roaming the fields of his grandparents’ farm in Oxford, Ohio, or later paddling a canoe on Ahmic Lake in Ontario, or fishing amid the Catskill Mountains, or jogging around Tod’s Point with his dog, Nellie.

Much is written about Bob, in books and magazines and online, regarding his massive talent and output. He was an active, competitive and innately hard-working person, and, most of all, he loved to draw and paint. His drive to succeed and his endurance at the easel enabled him to leave behind a body of work that will never be matched. …

Remember Bob the next time Ohio State beats Michigan in football. Or when you see the
Breakfast at Tiffany’s movie poster image of Audrey Hepburn with a cat perched on her shoulder. Our father created that!
This is so sad. I was hoping Robert McGinnis would be around to celebrate the centenary of his birth next February. That is not to be. Fortunately, he left behind a profusion of outstanding artworks, some more of which I am likely to post here soon. Stay tuned.

READ MORE:Robert McGinnis (1926-2025),” by Matthew Field (MI6).

Friday, February 28, 2025

McGinnis Nine-Nine: Drum Struck

Part of a celebration of Robert McGinnis’ XCIXth birthday.




With this being the final day of Killer Covers’ 99th birthday tribute to famous American artist Robert McGinnis, let us dip back into his extensive portfolio of crime and thriller novel fronts.

The author Stephen Marlowe was actually born Milton Lesser in Brooklyn, New York, in early August of 1928. He went on to pen dozens of books, some under his own moniker, but others behind a flurry of pen names, including Adam Chase, Andrew Frazer, Jason Ridgway, C.H. Thames, Darius John Granger, and once (for 1961’s Dead Man’s Tale), Ellery Queen. His most-implemented alias, though—by far—was Stephen Marlowe. And it in that guise that he published 20 tales starring itinerant private investigator Chester “Chet” Drum.

The Web site Spy Guys and Gals describes Drum thusly:
He works out of Washington, D.C. That may be where his office is, but his beat is really the world, or at least a good part of it. Very few private eyes of fiction spend more time travelling to interesting places in Europe and the Americas than does Drum. Sometimes he is fighting spies, theirs and ours, and sometimes he works with them. Sometimes his cases are standard fare, such as blackmail and bodyguarding, and other times it is helping to take down a dictator or free a political prisoner.

Drum has a law degree, acquired so he could quit his policeman’s job and join the FBI. Having done that for a few years, he quit the Bureau and hung up his shingle in the nation’s capital, using many of his contacts [to] find paying customers. While he at times has an assistant, he keeps his agency a small affair but is now seldom without work and, unlike many other hard-boiled detectives of his time, is not constantly broke and wallowing in booze. Drum definitely makes ends meet, drinks in moderation, usually, and tends to avoid fights when possible.

That “when possible,” though, is not often and Drum’s escapades show that trouble seems to naturally follow him. Told in a first-person style, the books give the reader an excellent insight into the character’s mind as Drum goes up against very interesting opponents. The plots are fairly standard-type detective stories but with an international touch that truly make them special.
The earliest Drum yarn, The Second Longest Night, arrived in 1955 and quickly birthed sequels graced with titles in a distinctive pattern: Killers Are My Meat (1957), Murder Is My Dish (1957), Terror Is My Trade (1958), Homicide Is My Game (1959) … well, you get the idea. Among that mix Lesser (who eventually adopted Stephen Marlowe as his legal name) collaborated on a book, 1959’s Double in Trouble, which yoked Chet Drum to Richard S. Prather’s phenomenally successful (but sometimes outlandish) gumshoe, Shell Scott, on a case that encompassed kidnapping, blackmail, and labor politics.

Marlowe’s final five Drum books, released originally in the 1960s, established a different consistency: their names all began with the words Drum Beat. McGinnis painted covers for all of those but the first, Drum Beat—Berlin. As you can see by scrolling through this post, they make an attractive set, in more ways than one.





Although Marlowe also produced science-fiction works (1953’s The Star Seekers and 1965’s Secret of the Black Planet, for example), it’s his crime fiction that cemented him in literary memory. In 1997, the Private Eye Writers of America bestowed upon him The Eye, its Shamus Award for Lifetime Achievement. He died six years later at age 79.

Robert McGinnis has already outlasted Marlowe by 20 years, and has given us a proliferation of painted treasures. If you’d like to see more of the paperback fronts he created during his six-decades-long career, check out previous Killer Covers tributes here and here.

Thursday, February 27, 2025

McGinnis Nine-Nine: Fright Nights

Part of a celebration of Robert McGinnis’ XCIXth birthday.



Timbalier, by Clayton Coleman (Dell, 1969). The blog SpookyBooky notes the dearth of information about Coleman, suggesting the moniker may be a pseudonym. It goes on to speculate that the circa 1965 domestic suspense novel Nightmare in July was written by the same person, this time using the byline Clara Coleman.


Robert McGinnis is no slouch, either, when it comes to producing covers for paperback works of Gothic romance and horror. The commonalities seem to be women as the victims of one fright or another, and eerie mansions or—better still—sinister castles as their backdrop.



(Left) Farramonde, by “Katherine Troy” (Dell, 1969). Troy was a nom de plume employed by Anne Maybury. (Right) Wait for What Will Come, by “Barbara Michaels,” aka Barbara Mertz (Fawcett Crest, 1978). Under another byline, “Elizabeth Peters,” Mertz penned the famous Amelia Peabody historical mysteries.




(Left) Chateau in the Shadows, by “Susan Marvin” (Dell, 1969). Marvin was actually prolific New York fictionist Julie Ellis. (Right) The Diamonds of Alcazar, by Mary Kay Simmons (Dell, 1972).




(Left) House of Shadows, by Mair Unsworth (Avon, 1971). In case you’re wondering, that’s supposed to be a “brooding Welsh mansion” behind the fleeing figure in white. (Right) The Return, by Daoma Winston (Avon, 1972). According to the book-focused Web site Fantastic Fiction, “all of [Winston’s] novels have a strong occult theme and usually feature ghosts, witches, demons or magic.” Yeah, I couldve guessed that with a mere glance at McGinnis’ cover art.




Journey into Danger, by Beatrice Taylor (Ballantine-Beagle, 1974).

Wednesday, February 26, 2025

McGinnis Nine-Nine: Derring-do and Damsels Too

Part of a celebration of Robert McGinnis’ XCIXth birthday.



The Sun Princess, by Sylvia Pell (Avon, 1981).

I observed on this page a couple of weeks back that, even though Robert McGinnis is best recognized for having painted covers for crime and thriller novels, his artistry can also be appreciated on an abundance of historical novels. Below are a few more choice examples.




(Left) The Sea Hawk, by Rafael Sabatini (Popular Library, 1961). Italian-born British author Sabatini made his living during the early 20th century penning tales of adventure and romance, several of which were later made into movies. (Right) Mistress Wilding, by Rafael Sabatini (Popular Library, 1963).




(Left) Captain Blood Returns, by Rafael Sabatini (Popular Library, 1963). My all-time favorite representation of the fictional Irish doctor-turned-swashbuckling pirate, Peter Blood, can be found on Bantam’s 1976 paperback edition of Captain Blood, the first entry in Sabatini’s Blood trilogy, with illustrations by David Grove. However, McGinnis’ interpretation certainly has much to commend it, particularly his pairing above of the buccaneer with a lovely lass wrapping herself in his riches—and not much else. The original cover art is here. (Right) Master-at-Arms, by Rafael Sabatini (Popular Library, 1963), also known as The Marquis of Carabas.




(Left) The Vows of the Peacock, by Alice Walworth Graham (Popular Library, 1963), which is a recognizable updating of the 1955 Doubleday hardcover edition. (Right) Give Me Your Golden Hand, by Evelyn Eaton (Popular Library, circa 1968).




(Left) Delilah, by “Jefferson Cooper,” aka Gardner F. Fox (Popular Library, 1962), a work of Biblical fiction. (Right) Roxana: The Fortunate Mistress, by Daniel Defoe (Popular Library, 1962), which really belonged in Killer Covers’ long-ago gallery of book fronts featuring women exposing themselves to men.

(Hat tip to Tim Hewitt.)

Tuesday, February 25, 2025

McGinnis Nine-Nine: “The Company Girls”

Part of a celebration of Robert McGinnis’ XCIXth birthday.



The Company Girls, by Mona Williams (Gold Medal, 1965).

Vermona “Mona” March Goodwyn (1905-1991) might well have abandoned her dreams of becoming a writer, after having her first completed novel rejected by an editor named Henry Meade Williams. Instead, six years later, in 1929, she married Williams, the son of journalist, author, and Pulitzer Prize-winning dramatist Jesse Lynch Williams. They would go on to bear three children together. She would publish a short stack of novels and at least one collection of poetry, proving her husband dead wrong about her literary potential.

I can’t say I know much about The Company Girls. In all likelihood, its Robert McGinnis-created front teases sexy and unwholesome doings that the story inside fails to deliver without reservation. (This, after all, is a Gold Medal release, not a paperback from mid-20th-century soft-core sleaze publishers such as Midwood or Beacon.) The back-cover copy does, though, reinforce the presumption of lubricious allure:
The Company Girls knew the one basic rule for survival: don’t turn your back—ever—if you don’t want to be knifed.

The Company Girls knew all about knifing.

They knew the formulas for wrecking a reputation, stealing a man’s job, spreading the breath of scandal, seizing power.

The Company Girls were supremely shrewd, supremely efficient, and supremely female.
During her career, Mona Williams drew Hollywood’s interest, but only one among her works—a novelette titled May the Best Wife Win, published originally in McCall’s magazine—was actually translated for film, becoming the 1954 feature Woman's World, starring Clifton Webb, June Allyson, Van Heflin, and Lauren Bacall. But the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) credits her also with penning episodes of the 1950s TV anthology series The Ford Television Theatre and Lux Video Theatre.

Monday, February 24, 2025

McGinnis and Me

Part of a celebration of Robert McGinnis’ XCIXth birthday.

(Above) So What Killed the Vampire? by “Carter Brown,” aka Alan Geoffrey Yates (Signet, 1966). Of the many Brown titles, Tim Hewitt identifies this as having his favorite Robert McGinnis art. “Kind of subtle compared to some of the more ‘wow’ covers,” he says, “but it speaks to me somehow. That dark gothic touch, I guess.”


(Editor’s note: South Carolina resident Tim Hewitt is a former tech writer, marketing/public relations flack, and Web site administrator. He’s currently the co-editor (with Bob Deis and Bill Cunningham) of the forthcoming The Art of Ron Lesser Volume 3. He has spent decades collecting vintage paperback books, largely for their cover artwork. Among the painters responsible for those fine fronts, the best represented on his shelves is Robert McGinnis. I asked Tim recently to explain how he started amassing his stock of McGinnises, what lengths (and expense) he has gone to in order to acquire rare works, and which McGinnis paperbacks he still hasn’t been able to find. His essay below answers those questions—and tells us much more besides.)

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I started collecting paperbacks with Robert McGinnis covers, but I do know this: the first artist whose cover illustrations I recognized as being by a single artist was Robert McGinnis!

As a 9-year-old kid searching paperback racks for the latest Dark Shadows novel or Lancer paperback collections of Marvel Comics, I could not escape the dozens of Carter Brown paperbacks that filled spinner racks everywhere. I didn’t know anything about art styles or techniques, and I certainly didn’t know his name. I’m sure I couldn’t have looked at a lot of random covers and picked out the ones by McGinnis, but I definitely recognized that most of the Carter Brown covers were painted by the same guy, and that the art was distinct from that found on other paperbacks.

Now, I’d been a collector since first discovering comic books. (They’re numbered, right? So, if you’ve got issue #4 there’s likely to be a #5, and if you’re lucky you might even find the first three!) But I began collecting paperbacks, too, after my mom rewarded me for good grades with a copy of The Curse of Collinwood, by Marilyn Ross (I was a huge Dark Shadows fan back then).

Carter Brown didn’t really interest me. I was looking for science fiction and fantasy, sword and sorcery, and high adventure. The first paperback artist I actively collected, recognizing his name, his style, and that really distinctive signature, was Frank Frazetta. He actually made me buy books just for the cover art, and I bought them all! As the years went by, I added artists such as Jeff Jones, Boris Vallejo, Michael Whelan, Ken Kelly, and Don Maitz to the collection.

I bought my first McGinnis paperback in 1971: Bantam’s The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes featuring his movie poster art on the cover. That same year I picked up the James Bond movie tie-in edition of Diamonds Are Forever, followed by Live and Let Die two years later, both with McGinnis poster art on their covers. But I was still a long way from actively collecting his work.

At some point in the late 1970s, while I was working in a bookstore during college, I finally learned Robert McGinnis’ name and exactly who he was, and that he’d painted more than just Carter Brown covers. A lot more!

My first collection of McGinnis covers was the John D. MacDonald/Travis McGee novels. I was branching out in my reading, and MacDonald came highly recommended by friends who liked mystery books. Most of the covers were painted by McGinnis. Of course, being a completist, I bought them all, and soon added standalone MacDonald novels with more McGinnis fronts.

From there, I casually picked up a McGinnis cover from time to time when his artwork happened to appear on a book I was actually interested in reading, or occasionally when I found one I thought was particularly striking.

It was around the year 2000 when I seriously began to collect McGinnis. Richard Lupoff’s The Great American Paperback, along with Arnie and Cathy Fenner’s Tapestry: The Paintings of Robert McGinnis, simultaneously spurred a revived interest in vintage paperbacks and a greater appreciation for McGinnis. I found myself picking up McGinnis covers more deliberately, just for the artwork. Romance novels, historicals, mainstream fiction, whatever, and actively seeking out his early covers for Dell and Gold Medal.

The following year, The Paperback Covers of Robert McGinnis, by Art Scott and Dr. Wallace Maynard, was published. That really pushed me over the edge. So. Many. Stunning. Covers! And a checklist of every book front McGinnis had painted up to that time!

From then on, if I saw a McGinnis cover, I’d buy it. (Assuming it was in very good condition. I’m a stickler about condition. I never bought into the idea of paperbacks being a disposable commodity. Every paperback I’ve ever bought new still looks new, even if I’ve read it. I view creasing or, even worse, actually cracking the spines of paperbacks as an abomination in the eyes of the paperback gods. They do, too. Trust me on this.)

When I stumbled on a beautiful copy of 1960’s Target: Mike Shayne, I found myself thinking, “I should get all the Mike Shayne books with McGinnis covers!” Remember what I said about being a completist?

Just 81 books. Eighty covers (since the second editions of The Homicidal Virgin and Marked for Murder share the same cover art). Over a couple of years, that added a significant number of volumes to my collection.

The next obvious set was to round up all those Carter Brown books that had caught my eye as a kid. An even 100 books, if my count is correct.

On to Perry Mason. A paltry 30 books. Then the 26 Edward S. Aarons Assignment books. And the 25 books by “M.E. Chaber” (aka Kendell Foster Crossen). And … well, you get the idea.

As I write this, my stock of McGinnis covers has grown to approximately 700 books, and continues to grow. Just for comparison’s sake, of the other artists whose covers I collect, my next largest set is close to 500 covers painted by Ron Lesser. (I also have smaller collections of Mitchell Hooks, Robert Maguire, Frank McCarthy, H. Tom Hall, Ted CoConis, Harry Schaare, David Grove, and Jim Sharpe, among others.)

In The Paperback Covers of Robert McGinnis, Art Scott speculates that the top three collectible McGinnis paperbacks are Beebo Brinker, by Ann Bannon (1962); Pop. 1280, by Jim Thompson (1964); and The Big Bounce, by Elmore Leonard (1969). Many years ago, while still just casually picking up McGinnis books, I found a fine copy of Pop. 1280 in a used bookstore for a whopping 75 cents. And I put it back because it looked like a romance novel, not the gritty noir crime thriller I was looking for. Doh! Years later, it cost me 35 times that amount to add a comparable copy to my collection.



A lot of vintage McGinnis covers, mostly the Carter Browns, Mike Shaynes, and the like, can be found online for around $10 or less, depending on their condition. Ann Bannon’s Beebo Brinker is probably the stand-out exception. Copies are few, and I’ve seen them sell for well over $250. (As I write this, there’s a single, very good copy of Beebo listed on eBay for $675, with 10 watchers! Not sure if any of them are buyers, though. We’ll see.)

Like most collectors, I always try to get what I’m looking for as cheaply as possible (there’s a lot to buy, you understand), and most of my McGinnis acquisitions probably average out to around $10-$12 a book.

I’ve found that covers painted by McGinnis for smaller publishers such as Berkley, Curtis, and in particular, Popular Library are some of the most difficult to find. The majority of those covers were attached to books that sold in relatively modest numbers, done by writers who almost no one remembers, and few copies of them seem to have survived.

McGinnis painted lush and striking covers for many of these books, sometimes engaging in stylistic experiments, such as his covers for Sarah Gainham’s Takeover Bid, Robert Nathan’s One More Spring, and Sarah Woods’ The Windy Side of the Law, not to mention the slightly surreal and trippy covers he painted for six of Phoebe Atwood Taylor’s Leonidas Witherall mysteries (all written under the name “Alice Tilton”). The scarcity of these books has often forced me to purchase copies in conditions I usually wouldn’t even consider. But beggars, you know, can’t be choosers, and when you find one, you never know if or when another will show up.

The two McGinnis books I’ve paid the most for are Popular Library and Berkley titles: fine copies of The Bigger the Bust, by Stephen John, and The Innocent, by Madison Jones. A seller from Australia (!) listed them on eBay, and after a bit of negotiation we agreed on $204 AU for both. Shipping included. So roughly $64 U.S. each (or, if I can rationalize that the outrageous postage was a business expense and not part of the actual price of the books, then they were only about $45 each). Still my most expensive McGinnis covers, but not quite the most I’ve ever paid for a single paperback book. That’s another story.

It all evens out, though. I’ve come by many bargains along the way, as well, on what are usually pricey McGinnis titles, such as a very good copy of J.M. Ryan’s Brooks Wilson Ltd. (with its gorgeous semi-wraparound cover full of McGinnis women) for just $2.50, and the $10 copy of Gaywick, by Vincent Virga, that I was lucky enough to stumble upon during a random online search. And I finally managed to pick up a copy of Beebo Brinker for less than $50, after years of searching and constantly being outbid on eBay. Patience pays off now and then.

The coolest acquisition I’ve made was also a bargain purchase. McGinnis’ art often showed up on the covers of European paperbacks, and usually not on the same book they were originally painted for. They sometimes got better treatment by the European art directors. A notable example is the painting McGinnis produced for the 1961 Fawcett Crest edition of Sylvia, by “E.V. Cunningham” (aka Howard Fast). The Fawcett cover shows a head-and-shoulders portrait of Sylvia. But McGinnis’ original painting was a full-body image of a kneeling Sylvia, her wrap and the straps of her dress undone and off her shoulders, bra exposed. Maybe just a bit too provocative for a 1961 Fawcett book? Or maybe just more than the art director wanted? For whatever reason, American readers never got to see the full image.

But Swedish readers did a year later, when Jaguar Books lifted McGinnis’ full, uncropped art for the cover of their edition of Bob McKnight’s A Stone Around Her Neck, retitled Hennes Våta Grav (Her Watery Grave). I’d wanted a copy of that Swedish novel for years, but never really expected to find one (certainly not in great condition and at a reasonable price). But one day, while searching for a good, high-resolution image of the cover online, I happened to click on an image link that took me to a bookstore in Finland. That image turned out to be the copy of the book they were selling! For only €2! And shipping to the States was only €5! I immediately suspected a scam. But I took a chance, rolled the dice, and thanks to a credit card with no foreign currency exchange fee, I was able to acquire this very uncommon and desirable McGinnis for a total of about $6.50! All the way from Finland!

I’ve reached the point where I think I have just about all of the highly sought-after McGinnis titles, but I still keep a sharp eye peeled for copies of the Popular Library edition of Hoffman, by Ernest Gebler (which employed the same cover art as Popular’s Tangerine, by Christine de Rivoyre—just more of it) and the Berkley edition of Nell Kimball: Her Life as an American Madam, edited by Stephen Longstreet. These remain the two I’ve spent the longest time looking for, yet they continue to elude me, at least at a price and condition I can accept. (The Australia deal isn’t one I’m inclined to repeat. But you never know.)

One of my college professors once told the class that “The more you read Shakespeare, the more you read Shakespeare.” I think that’s true of collecting Robert McGinnis. You get one book, and see that he painted the cover for another by the same author. Or the book is part of a series. One begats another. And the more you collect McGinnis, the more you collect McGinnis.

I didn’t set out to own a copy of every McGinnis cover ever printed, but depending on the final count, I seem to have acquired nearly half of them. And I keep adding to the collection all the time, occasionally in trickles, but sometimes in waves.

And the completist in me stirs a little.

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Tim Hewitt's 6 Favorite McGinnis Covers





“Picking half a dozen of my favorite Robert McGinnis-painted covers,” writes Tim Hewitt, “is like asking a chameleon to choose a color and stick with it. Try me again next week, and I’ll likely name six different ones. A lot of my favorites are probably everyone’s favorites (who doesn’t love the original front of Robert Kyle’s Kill Now, Pay Later?), so for the sake of variety I went deeper into the McGinnis catalogue. Kyle’s The Golden Urge (Gold Medal, 1954) has always been a favorite, because in a single image McGinnis conveys that there’s so much story going on outside the frame. The other covers here appeal to me for assorted reasons (I’ve always loved hooded villains and gothic settings), and show variations in McGinnis’ style over the years.”

Also shown above, clockwise: Gallows Wedding, by Rhona Martin (Berkley, 1980); All Together Now, by Bob Vichy (Berkley Medallion, 1972); The Coach Draws Near, by Mary Savage (Dell, 1972); Blade of Honor, by John J. Pugh (Popular Library, 1964); and Desert Love, by Henry de Montherlant (Berkley Medallion, 1959).