A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Dollars

I talked to a really smart writer, a while ago, who has had some remarkable success. We met over coffee, and I asked her questions.

One thing she told me had to do with my website. She said it was a good idea to have evidence on an author website that the author is an active person, that they not only write but also participate in the literary world. That they have a community, or have access to one.

You should have, she said, a photo of yourself giving a reading. Something like that. It should be on your website.

Well, friends of Bloggie the blog. I have good news.

Thanks to my friend Luke, I have that photo.

This is the photo I’ve been talking about.

That’s the photo. Right there.

Look at it.

Look at it again.

Study the photograph. See my weird fingers and the microphone cord.

Luke took this photo as I was reading my short story, “Janice,” which is about Weird Pig being up to no good, at Cartesian Brewing in Philadelphia, PA. James Brubaker, of SEMO Press, publisher of the novel Weird Pig, invited me to read.

I didn’t crash the party. I was the party.

Or, actually, I was one-eighths of it.

The seven other readers were great. I loved being at this event.

And I love that I got this photo.

I don’t love what I look like in the photo.

Something I notice in it is that my hair is really grey, now.

I knew it was grey before I saw the photo. But every time I see a photo of myself, now, I think, “My goodness. That’s a lot of grey hair. Shit!”

Also, my ears are too small. They don’t match the other parts of my head.

But where I think the photo succeeds is where I’m holding a microphone and sheets of paper with “Janice” on it. The photo demonstrates that I went somewhere and did something. I read my work to an audience. The presence of the audience is implied by the microphone.

I don’t like what my neck looks like in the photo. My chin sucks.

My arm is okay. I started getting tattoos when I was thirty-five, because before that point I didn’t realize tattoos were as good as they are. Now I know how good they are, and I have four of them.

I’m glad the tattoos are in the photo, because without them you’d see just my stupid, white arm.

What else?

Not much.

Luke Rolfes, who took the photo, just published a short story collection that I like very much and recommend. I wanted to mention that, and now I have.

I liked Philadelphia. I ate some excellent breakfasts there.

Shout out to breakfasts.