My cover story, co-starring Thomas Merton

By Michael Patrick O’Brien–

Many folks scour the works of Kentucky Trappist monk/writer Thomas Merton seeking deep insight and inspiration. I am more crass and superficial. I searched his journals wondering if he got as excited as me when his books were published.

As a rookie author, I have known many exciting firsts with my new book Monastery Mornings. First partnership with a real agent (Joe Durepos…you are the man!). First manuscript collaboration with an editor (Jon Sweeney…can’t imagine anyone better). And now my first book cover—a lovely pastoral scene depicting the old Holy Trinity Abbey in Huntsville, Utah at sunrise.

How does such a wonderful book cover come to be? I had no idea, so I asked the professionals at Paraclete Press. Designer Sarah Andre, from Ontario, and publicist Rachel McKendree, from Rhode Island, shared the cover story.

Sarah has been with Paraclete for 25 years. She worked on the publisher’s old school printing presses, learning valuable skills she still applies when designing books today. After getting an editor’s cover launch sheet outlining essential themes and related buzz words, Sarah and the Paraclete design department dive into the cover creation mode. They read the manuscript, discuss impressions, consider comparable titles, review other topical resources, and develop at least three concepts to show their marketing colleagues like Rachel.

Rachel is a 20 year Paraclete employee who also has worked in the music publishing department. Neither a designer nor artist, she looks for images that catch her eye, speak to her instantly, and draw her into the story of a book. Like Sarah, Rachel is a vowed married member of the Community of Jesus monastic community. Paraclete Press is one of their main missions, so they also look for inspiration and “co-creation” from the Holy Spirit when doing their work.

Regarding Monastery Mornings specifically, both Sarah and Rachel loved how my family stumbled upon, and then became a part of, the Utah Trappist monastic community. Both women readily identified with the story of aging monks struggling to cope with the closure of their longtime home. Because the Ogden Valley abbey was a real place with real people, Sarah and Rachel felt it important to use a familiar landscape on the cover, but also to create an image attracting people who have never been there.

Their favorite cover design does not always get picked, but in the case of Monastery Mornings, it did! Sarah thinks the cover is a bit “magical.” She explains, “You are driving down a road under the stars and then there’s a monastery there, and…how did that happen?” Rachel thinks the cover creation process was a lot of fun, and is excited to use the final image when pitching the book.

As my little new author heart has been all aflutter about the lovely book cover, another reaction has lurked in the back of my mind. My conscience has been cautioning me about pride and immodesty. Yes, my cover story has evoked both delight and dilemma. I turned to an experienced published author named Thomas Merton to discern whether such a response is normal.

I have only a few things in common with Merton. We both were born in France. We write as a sideline (his main job was monk, mine is lawyer). We write about Trappist monks. And that’s about it. Or so I thought, until I searched his journals for clues about how he reacted to the great milestones of publishing.

Merton’s journals (Entering the Silence, edited by Jonathan Montaldo) include sporadic but fascinating references to the various events and moments culminating in the 1948 publication of The Seven Storey Mountain. I am relieved to know that the great writer/monk wrestled with the same sensations of delight and dilemma as me.

For example, Merton admired his book’s printing design and index as “beautiful” and conceded there is a “natural pleasure” in the success of publication. In fact, I also detected hints of unexpressed pleasure as he reported his book contract signing, the arrival of galleys, when the head of his religious order approved the final manuscript, and when notables such Clare Booth Luce endorsed his book.

Merton also recounted how a royalty check arrived for him and other new writing projects emerged. Merton readily turned the check over to his new abbot James Fox—for the good of a Gethsemani Abbey in some uncertain financial health at the time. Merton even gushed (at least by monk standards) a little about the emerging new writing opportunities. He said he was happy.

Merton’s journals also reveal some circumstantial evidence of pride of authorship. At the suggestion of his fellow convert, French philosopher Jacques Maritain, Merton sent a copy of The Seven Storey Mountain to Monsignor Giovanni Battista Montini, the future Pope Paul VI. And Merton also zealously defended himself against some vigorous Trappist censors, even as he chastened himself, felt remorse, and later apologized for doing so. (See: My Friend, Merton’s Censor.)

On the other hand, Merton also often expressed detachment about his book, saying its fate and future were in God’s hands. He sometimes mocked the book as “The Seven Storey Molehill.” In 1951, when proofreading galleys of the French translation, he announced that the author of The Seven Storey Mountain was dead and that it was “the work of a man I never even heard of.”

Along with his obvious delight, Merton also worried about being “poisoned” by “the pleasure you take in your own book.” His stated dilemma feels very familiar: “You say you don’t want it, and it gets into your blood anyway.”

My favorite Merton book-related flight of fancy occurred as his publication date neared. He mused with some friends that perhaps the famous actor Gary Cooper would play him in the movie version of The Seven Storey Mountain. A dozen years later, when Cooper’s daughter wrote Merton and explained how the monk’s writings had comforted her dying father in his final days, Merton wrote her back and confessed his immodest “temptation.”

I can identify with almost all of Merton’s pre-publication delight/dilemma reactions, but this last one is a bridge too far. I would never dare to do something like imagine Gary Cooper playing me in the film version of Monastery Mornings.

Bradley Cooper maybe, but never Gary.

*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. His book Monastery Mornings (found here), about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah, will be published by Paraclete Press (more information here) in August 2021.