I finally received the last of my chapters of my novel to FIX. Tucking it gently into my suitcase I felt like I should just get busy and finish it up over the weekend. My computer stayed at home so I wouldn’t get distracted from the weekend activities in Oklahoma. Of course I couldn’t resist bringing my flash drive along–just in case. I’ve been almost giddy at the prospect of making corrections and printing a final copy. (Is there such a thing?) I’ve even wondered about a photo of myself for the back cover. Looking at all those book jackets last week and the new author sections of my writing magazines I was struck at the poses authors give. Some are pensive. Others are almost angry in nature. Then there are those that look like they’re one step away from becoming a serial killer. My question is “WHY”? I would be so thrilled at getting published that you wouldn’t be able to contain the ear to ear smile on my face! People would think the book topic was clown school and the clown who wrote the book. Do I have to be sad in my picture? Men authors have it easier. They lean against a wall with their arms crossed in front of them or look off into the distance as if expecting the apocalypse to rain down on them. When I met Steve Berry, author of The Amber Room I was surprised he wasn’t carrying a gun in his waistband. I mean his picture looks like he’s packing!!! That’s the kind of picture I want; pleasant with a smirky grin so everyone will wonder what I’ve been up to with a hint danger in my stance. I can almost hear my mother say, “You’re such a dreamer.”
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