I hate having my picture taken. Loathe it. Would rather have root canal. It brings up lots of old body image stuff for me and makes me feel like there is a colony of ants crawling under my skin.
And now I have this career where I travel a lot and many kind readers want to have their picture taken with me. When I get to meet my favorite authors, I like to have my picture taken with them, too, so I understand the impulse and I honor it. In fact, when I have my picture taken at booksignings and schools, I usually get goofy and act like a big ham. This is how I cover up my terror and discomfort.
Recently, readers have started pointing out that I no longer resemble my jacket photo, taken in 1999. And the goddesses in the publicity department have been grumbling, too. So I did a lot of research and found a photographer that maybe, just maybe, could take a picture of me that I could live with.
Last week BH and I traveled to Maine, to the studio of Joyce Tenneson, the photographer. Joyce and her assistant Raquel were the kindest souls imaginable. I was terrified, but they performed magic. We shot outside her studio, on a hill that overlooked a cove on the Maine coast. Joyce was able to make the sun shine on command and conjured the wind to blow a couple times. She sent us home with lots of shots to choose from.
Take a look at all 4 and then vote, please!