I remember how surprised I was when I first saw an illustration that didn't match the picture I'd had in my head. Now, the picture was delightful. I love the work of this illustrator and always have. I'd written a scene about an old cattle dog who liked to skive off and hide under the rose bush. The illustrator drew a potted rose; a standard, I think. I'd been visualising a rambling rose because that's what we had. Since I hadn't stated that I had no reason to expect the illustrator to "see" what I had.
In another picture, someone was leading a show cow from the incorrect side. The illustrator, bless her, agreed to fix that because, unlike the rose, showing cattle isn't a matter of opinion.
You'd think I would have learned but no- I had a girl perched on a table drying her hair. I visualised her rubbing it with a towel because that's how I always dried my hair. The (different) illustrator showed her with a hair-dryer! I barely even knew what one was at that point in my life. Gulp. Again, this showed the gulf between my imagined scene and the illustrator's.
Last year I was searching for a cover with a woman in colonial costume. I asked someone if he could provide one... and he delivered a sketch of a woman who looked as if she came from a pleasure house in the deep south. The deep south of America. Sigh. Colonial clearly doesn't mean the same thing to everyone!