Back, long ago, in the days of pulp
fiction and fifty cent novels, illustration was king. There was a
reason for this. People, in general, are drawn to beautiful things.
Granted beauty can be subjective for each individual from a splatter
of black and white on an austere surface all the way upwards to a
grandiloquent baroque-like tapestry of color and form grafted to a
forty-foot plaster wall. In the case of the novel and short story,
publishers from long ago understood this concept.