I have so rarely taken a photo I have actually liked, that I view a camera with great dread. The image in my head is younger and skinnier and somehow, when I see candids, they don’t match that (um, ever), and it’s a bummer knowing the realitiy. I like pretend a whole lot, hence the whole fiction-writing thing, I suppose. Unfortunately, in the publishing world, they kinda want to have a photo. For Killer Year (I’m not linking here yet — the new snazzy website will be up soon), we had to have photos, which meant forcing myself to have one made.

Well, my friend’s daughter Molly Furrate, (who is 17), is a freaking genius with the camera. She had volunteered to shoot stills on the sets of the book video we shot and when I saw her photos, I thought she did a terrific job. I figured if anyone could do as well as she did with difficult (hot, sweaty) surroundings, maybe I wouldn’t look like a total frog. (A frog with three chins, which is how I usually look.) I dreaded the shoot (and griped all the way to the locations), and she still managed to get a shot I actually like. The world will probably end soon. You have been warned. But here’s the shot:

my photo

photo credit: Molly Furrate

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