Headshots: Yes, Time for Book Publicity Headshots

Okay, so here’s the deal. I need headshots. The last time I posed for picture, was my senior portrait in high school. The photographer tried to make me hold a plastic rose and said, “This is very popular.” I politely responded with, “No, thank you.” He persisted with, “All the girls want it.” I politely answered with, “Which is precisely why I do not want it.”

He would not take ‘no’ for an answer and pushed the rose in my face. I stayed calm in my cranberry drape, shoulders exposed, tanned to perfection and said, “I am not, nor will I ever be photographed with a rose, fake or real. My photos, my decision.” I was sixteen and learned that I would spend the rest of my life, standing my ground.

      Which brings us to 2024. My fabulous PR team had no rules for my headshots. They said, “Your book, your rules.” These are my people. I did a little research into “Pensive Poses” just out of curiosity. Most look like people either on the verge of picking their teeth, biting their glasses, smelling their armpits, and a variety of other contrived contortions of the body. Hard pass on all of those.

      Maybe I should go for the fan blowing, hair in the breeze, tossed back head, laughing at some long remembered funny thing from the past? Time will tell. You, as one of my readers (and I do so appreciate all who take the time to read my musings) will find out, when you buy my upcoming memoir. The headshot will be on the back of the book. How do I want to be remembered? My young students have told me that they love the “lines by your eyes. They make you look happy.” Lines by the eyes it is. Of course, I had a student from a different class tell me, “You’re old. Those lines on your neck are old lines.” No, damnit, that’s just the fascia loosening from all the times I have turned my head to see what the hell is going on! (I did not say that last line aloud of course.)

     I guess I should be glad I don’t have to pose for a painting. Oh, someone did paint my portrait once. He took numerous photographs of me, and when I went to go see the painted portrait, he included the under eye bags I had from being hyperthyroid at the time, and with a facial expression that beckoned for me to be holding a gun in my hand. It was awful! I mean, it was truly one of the worst representations of me I had ever seen in my life. I much preferred the drawings of my then Kindergarteners of me.

      Maybe I’ll just take a few selfies and hope for the best. Or, maybe I’ll pass my camera to my little students and let them each take a photo of me, using the one I deem “the headshot” as “the one.” (I of course would not tell them, “Oh, this one is the best.” Nope-never will hurt their tender feelings.)

      I think I’ll try that on Tuesday. It’ll be fun, no matter how it turns out. Thank you, my readers, for joining me today. Have you ever had to get headshots? Thoughts? Opinions? Nothing? Hey, I just appreciate that you read my musings.