Omri’s book was very special, and it started in a very different way. Omri is a friend of mine, and he did a ‘Head Start’ to raise money for his book. He decided to go with a self-publishing company, which was one of the only options for self publishing authors at the time in Israel. That meant he received a full package-project: producer, editor, designer, printing house, everything.

When the design process started, he kept coming to me to consult, since he knew I’m a graphic designer and had experience with books. At first, it was small things. He sent me font combinations for the title and body text, and I helped him choose what felt right for his kind of book. In Hebrew, font options are quite limited compared to English, so those decisions mattered.

Then the cover design started. The directions he was getting felt very generic-the kind of designs you’ve seen many times before. I kept giving feedback and ideas. At one point, I suggested using a full image stretched across the front and back, with the text placed on top. It improved things, but still didn’t feel complete. We kept thinking together-what would make it right. Since the book is called A Million Texts I’ve Never Sent, I suggested introducing a handwritten element, slightly faded and placed diagonally-something that feels like a message that was written, but never sent. That direction clicked more. But when the interior design started, the gap became even clearer.

This book was very important to Omri. It combined his writing with photography by his close friend Elrun. But he still felt disconnected from what he was getting. At one point he asked me, “Why does nothing she does feel like what I want?” And I asked him back, “Did she ask you anything about the book? Did she interview you? Did she read it?” He paused. And said, “Actually… no.” That was the moment everything made sense.

Not long after, he asked if I would design the book for him. I hesitated. At that point, I had only worked on digital books. I had just started my course in Book Design on my Visual Communication studies. And I knew how much this book meant to him. I didn’t want to make mistakes. I didn’t want to let him down. But at the same time, I had a strong feeling that I could do it-and that I would do it well. I said no at first. But he didn’t accept it. And I’m very glad he didn’t.

We began with a deep dive. A long conversation exploring the psychology behind the book-the story behind the story. What he felt while writing it, and what he wanted his readers to feel. We realised the book carries a full emotional cycle: from new love, to heartbreak, to aloneness, to maturity, and then into a new kind of love again-a more grounded one. It’s not a linear story-it feels more like a spiral the reader moves through.

From there, the design followed that journey. The imagery shifts throughout the book-from women and city scenes into more nature scenery. The photography by Elrun has a nostalgic, almost timeless quality, like film (while some of them were actually on film), and that became part of the design language. The chapter backgrounds are based on a blacked-out film photograph from my own rolls, transformed into different shades of grey while keeping the grain texture. The tones deepen from light grey into darker shades, and then return to lighter ones as the story moves forward.

I also asked Omri to imagine his reader-where she is, and how she experiences the book. He described a girl sitting in her room after a shower, her hair wrapped in a towel, in a quiet moment with herself-opening the book, taking a photo on her phone to share on her story on Instagram (something that later on came to life as the book became viral). That image stayed with me throughout the process.

Before we started, I sent him a set of questions, including branding and customer avatar prompts. Because we weren’t just designing a book-we were understanding what this book is becoming. Our conversation went deep, much deeper than anything he had experienced before in the process.

Before designing, I read the entire book. I wanted to know it properly-to understand its rhythm, its tone, its emotional weight. From there, I started sketching layouts. I had music playing that felt aligned with the book, and even asked him what album it would be if it were music. I wanted the layouts to feel like a magazine-something expressive and unexpected for this format. There are moments of contrast-light and dark, left and right-almost like a quiet play on balance, like Yin and Yang. Text sometimes sits inside the images, sometimes breaks away from them, with a lot of play on white space. There are repeating elements, like frames, that create continuity throughout the book.

When I work on a book, I often feel like I become part of it for a while-like I can fully see what it needs. When Omri saw the result, his reaction said everything. He was emotional. It felt like someone had finally understood what he had been trying to create-and gave it form.