A Sticky Situation: The Unforgivable Sin of Putting Stickers on Books
There are certain things one simply does not do to a book.
You don’t fold down the corner of a page when there is a perfectly good bookmark nearby. You don’t crack the spine of someone else’s pristine hardback. You don’t balance a mug of tea on an illustrated coffee-table book. And, unless you are some sort of literary vandal, you certainly don’t take a beautiful new book and slap a large, obstinate sticker across its cover.
Yet publishers, booksellers and distributors continue to do precisely that.
There it is, sitting innocently on the shelf: the book you have been waiting months to read. The cover is gorgeous. The typography is elegant. The artwork is so attractive that you briefly entertain the idea of displaying the book face-out on your shelves.
And then you see it.
A sticker.
“NOW A MAJOR TV SERIES!”
“£2 OFF!”
“BUY ONE, GET ONE HALF PRICE!”
“THE BOOK EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT!”
Maybe it’s the particularly irritating pseudo-sticker announcing that the novel has been selected for some prize, television book club or celebrity reading list.
Or more annoying than most, it simply says, “£19.99”. Yes, that price sticker, often on the cheapest paper with the worst adhesive that will not allow the label to be removed cleanly. ARRGH!!!
Sometimes these stickers are printed onto the cover and therefore cannot be removed at all, which is a different offence requiring a separate hearing. But often they are actual stickers. Adhesive-backed circles and rectangles attached directly to the carefully designed cover of a brand-new book.
To the uninitiated, this might seem trivial. It is only a sticker, after all.
Book lovers know better.
Why Are the Stickers There?
Before convening the International Tribunal for Crimes Against Book Covers, it is worth acknowledging that stickers are usually there for a reason.
Books have to compete for attention. Walk into a large bookshop and you are confronted by thousands of titles, all quietly shouting, “Pick me!”
A sticker is an easy way to give one of them a louder voice.
It can advertise a discount, highlight an award nomination, promote a multi-buy offer or tell shoppers that the obscure-looking novel in front of them is actually the source material for that television drama everyone in the office keeps discussing.
From a bookseller’s perspective, stickers can also be practical. Prices change. Promotions come and go. Stock moves between branches. A removable label is much cheaper and easier than producing an entirely new cover every time a book joins a temporary offer.
Publishers have similar motives. A sticker announcing “WINNER OF THE SOMETHING IMPORTANT PRIZE” provides instant social proof. A shopper who knows nothing about the author may suddenly think, “Oh. Apparently clever people liked this.”
In other words, stickers sell books.
Or at least they are supposed to.
The problem is that the little sticker designed to encourage a purchase can have precisely the opposite effect.
The Book Lover’s Dilemma
Imagine finding the perfect copy of a book you have wanted for ages.
You pick it up but there is a sticker on the front.
You inspect it. You gently test one corner with a fingernail – nothing.
You try another corner – still nothing.
You stare at it but the sticker stares back.
At this point, a strange negotiation begins inside your head.
Perhaps it will peel off cleanly.
But what if it doesn’t?
I could remove the residue afterwards.
But what if the cover comes off with it?
Maybe I could just leave it there.
Absolutely not.
You put the book back.
This is where the sticker becomes commercially self-defeating. Some readers genuinely will choose another copy, another edition or even another retailer rather than buy a book with an ugly sticker attached to it.
This is particularly true of people who regard books not merely as containers for words but as physical objects worth owning.
And that is hardly an eccentric position. Publishers spend considerable amounts of time and money commissioning cover art, selecting typefaces, choosing finishes, embossing lettering and creating beautiful editions precisely because appearance matters.
So why spend months perfecting a cover and then stick a fluorescent “3 FOR 2” label over somebody’s face?
Not All Stickers Are Created Equal
There is, admittedly, a hierarchy of sticker wickedness.
At the relatively harmless end is the polite sticker. It knows it is only visiting. It lifts easily from the corner and peels away in one satisfying piece, leaving no residue whatsoever.
This is the sticker equivalent of a considerate house guest who strips the bed before leaving.
Nobody minds that sticker.
Then comes the mildly troublesome variety. It peels away but leaves a faint tackiness behind. Annoying, certainly, but manageable.
Next is the sticker that tears.
You pull.
Half comes away while the other half remains.
You pick at it but a microscopic fragment comes off.
Twenty minutes later you are hunched over the kitchen table performing what appears to be archaeological conservation on a £9.99 paperback.
Then there is the truly malevolent sticker.
This one has apparently been attached using an adhesive developed for the aerospace industry. It has no discernible edge. Fingernails are useless. It has bonded with the cover at a molecular level and seems confident that it will still be there when future historians excavate your house.
Should you eventually remove it, it leaves behind a perfect sticky residue that attracts dust, fluff, hairs and mysterious particles that appear to exist nowhere else in your home.
Worst of all is the sticker that takes the cover with it.
You pull carefully, very carefully. The sticker lifts – success!
Then you notice the white patch. Part of the printed surface has come away with the adhesive.
Your pristine book is now permanently scarred.
There are few moments in a reader’s life that produce such a peculiar mixture of rage, regret and self-recrimination.
I should have left it alone.
No. You shouldn’t have had to leave it alone. The sticker should never have been capable of doing that in the first place.
Think of the Cover Designer
There is another victim in all this: the designer.
Somebody carefully considered every element of that cover. The colours were chosen deliberately. The title was positioned exactly there for a reason. An illustrator or photographer produced the image. Editors and designers debated fonts, layouts, finishes and perhaps whether the author’s name should be three millimetres higher.
Eventually everybody approved it.
Beautiful.
Send it to print.
Then somebody stuck a bright red circle on it saying:
£5.99
One imagines cover designers developing a nervous twitch whenever they walk past a promotional table in a bookshop.
There is something especially absurd about stickers covering important parts of the design. Faces disappear beneath price labels. Titles acquire adhesive punctuation. Beautiful illustrations are interrupted by announcements that the book is “SOON TO BE A NETFLIX SERIES”.
Thank you. Wonderful. Could you perhaps tell us that somewhere that isn’t directly over the artwork?
The Collector’s Nightmare
For collectors, stickers can be more than a cosmetic irritation.
Condition matters.
A damaged dust jacket, torn laminate, discoloured patch or stubborn adhesive residue can reduce the desirability and potentially the value of a collectible edition.
Even readers who have no intention of selling their books may care deeply about condition. There is a particular pleasure in owning a handsome edition and keeping it handsome.
Books also become personal objects. We arrange them on shelves, lend them reluctantly, carry them around, remember where we bought them and sometimes keep them for decades.
A promotional sticker announcing a long-expired supermarket offer is not necessarily the memory we were hoping to preserve.
There is also something faintly ridiculous about a sticker that becomes outdated while the book itself remains timeless.
A novel might survive for two hundred years.
“THIS WEEK ONLY: 20% OFF!” has a rather shorter cultural lifespan.
And Then There Are the Fake Stickers
Just when readers thought things could not become more irritating, publishers discovered a way to create a sticker that cannot possibly be removed.
They printed it directly onto the cover. This is the fake sticker.
You spot a circular burst saying “NOW A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE” and instinctively reach for the edge BUT there is no edge.
You scratch lightly, nothing, a cold realisation dawns. It is part of the artwork… forever.
At least a real sticker offers hope. The printed sticker is an aesthetic life sentence.
Time for a brief aside: For readers who prefer original cover designs, film and television tie-in editions can present a similar problem. Yes, it is wonderful that the book has been adapted. Yes, the actors are very attractive. No, that does not necessarily mean we want them staring at us from our bookshelves for the next thirty years.
Some of us liked the old cover.
Could We Not Find a Better Way?
Surely modern publishing can devise a solution.
Promotional information could go on removable belly bands, bookmarks, shelf labels or protective wrapping. Stickers could be placed on the back rather than across the main artwork. Retailers could use reliably low-tack adhesive designed specifically for books.
At the very least, any sticker intended for a book should pass one simple test:
Can an ordinary person remove it without needing solvents, specialist equipment, three YouTube tutorials and the steady hands of a neurosurgeon?
If the answer is no, it should not go on the book.
Bookshops understandably need to promote offers. Publishers understandably want to advertise prizes and adaptations. Nobody is suggesting that books must sit silently on shelves and hope telepathically to attract customers.
Just please stop gluing the advertising to the artwork.
How to Remove a Book Sticker Without Ruining the Cover*
If the crime has already been committed, all is not necessarily lost. Sticker removal is possible, but the golden rule is simple: go slowly. What works perfectly on a glossy laminated cover could permanently mark an uncoated or cloth-bound book, so always use the gentlest method first.
Glossy or laminated paperbacks: Start by lifting a corner gently with a fingernail. Pull the sticker back slowly at a low angle rather than upwards. If the adhesive refuses to cooperate, gentle warmth from a hairdryer on its lowest setting can soften it. Keep the dryer moving, hold it at a sensible distance and use only brief bursts of warmth. Books and excessive heat are not friends.
Matt or soft-touch covers: Be much more cautious. These finishes can mark, polish, discolour or peel surprisingly easily. Try slow mechanical removal first and avoid aggressive rubbing. Heat should be minimal, if used at all. Never assume that a solvent which worked on another paperback will be safe on a matt finish.
Hardbacks with glossy dust jackets: Remove the dust jacket from the book before attempting anything. Support it on a clean, flat surface and gently peel the sticker back on itself. A tiny amount of warmth may help, but remember that dust jackets can be thin and easily creased.
Uncoated paper or card covers: These are among the riskiest. Liquids can soak into the fibres and create permanent stains. Avoid oils and household cleaning products. Patient, dry removal is usually safest. If the book is valuable, rare or sentimental, consider leaving the sticker alone rather than gambling with the cover.
Cloth-bound books: Resist the temptation to apply oils, alcohol or general-purpose adhesive removers. These may stain the cloth or affect dyes. Carefully lifting the label mechanically is safer, but valuable bindings are best entrusted to a professional conservator.
For sticky residue on a durable glossy surface: First try gently rolling the residue away with a clean fingertip. Sometimes the adhesive will gather into little balls and lift off. You can also dab at the residue with the sticky side of the removed label itself. Avoid soaking the surface and be extremely wary of chemical adhesive removers unless you know the particular cover finish can tolerate them. You could try commercially available ‘sticky stuff remover’ or, at a pinch, a tiny application of WD-40 can remove the residue but may leave a horrible smell or even damage the surface, so be wary.
Whatever the cover, test any unfamiliar technique on an inconspicuous area if possible. Stop immediately if colour begins transferring, the laminate starts lifting, the surface changes sheen or the paper begins to distort.
And perhaps the most important advice of all: if the book is rare, signed, valuable or irreplaceable, do not experiment. A slightly annoying sticker is preferable to a permanently damaged first edition.
Whatever you do be aware of leaving behind scratched and damage caused by your eager fingernails. Sometimes the grooves caused by your over-zealous fingernails can look worde than any sticker.
Of course, there is an even simpler solution. Publishers and booksellers could stop putting difficult-to-remove stickers on books in the first place.
Then readers could devote all that saved time to what they actually bought the book for – reading it.
*A Sticky Disclaimer: The sticker-removal methods above are suggestions, not guarantees of literary salvation. Book covers, adhesives and acts of desperation vary considerably, so proceed entirely at your own risk. The author of this article accepts no responsibility for peeled covers, faded ink, mysterious sticky patches, ruined first editions or the anguished cry of “Why did I touch it?!” that may follow. If you decide to wage war on a stubborn sticker, tread carefully, test cautiously and remember: sometimes an ugly sticker is better than a bald patch where the cover used to be.
The first rule of literary sticker warfare: if things start making tearing noises, STOP!!!
© Colin Lawson Books