Why do people want to see a photo of whatever slightly deranged human wrote the book they’re reading—or thinking about reading? Vulgar curiosity? A search for insight into the psyche that produced the story?
I’ll admit that sometimes when I’m reading a book, I’ll flip to the author photo and spend several moments contemplating it and wondering, What is this person really like? Can we actually get that from a picture? Yes and no.
Ironically, despite the publishing industry’s recent fixation on the young and the beautiful, I find the craggier, more individualistic authors the most interesting. There is a certain sameness in youth and beauty (my own two beautiful young daughters being the exceptions, of course) that is far less evocative then the rugged individualism of someone like, say, James Lee Burke.
Yet I once shared a chatty elevator ride with JLB on my way up to listen to him talk at the Louisiana Book Festival and didn’t even recognize him. He looked as if he’d been ill; he was pale, he’d lost weight, and he was wearing a business suit and a tie, of all things. Does this mean I think JLB should redo his author photo to save future fans from a similar embarrassment? No. Because the photo that typically appears in the backs of his books beautifully encapsulates the man and the experiences that shaped his books, even if that photo is twenty years old.
At one of my book signings several years ago, a reader came up to me and said in a decidedly annoyed, accusatory manner: “You don’t look like your picture. You have short hair in your picture.” I just blinked at her and said, “Uh…yes.” The Author Photo was less than five years old at the time and I really hadn’t aged much; I’d simply grown my hair out a few inches (I went through a short-short hair phase at one point). Yet this was enough of a change that the reader seemed to feel I had cheated her in some way, as if authors are supposed to change our photos every time we change our hairstyle or gain or lose a few pounds.
That said, I’ve definitely known some authors who let too many years pass between photo shoots. I once met a romance author who in her author photo was elfin thin and had long dark hair. When I met her, she had short gray hair and weighed about 250 pounds. I would never, ever have recognized her. Does she sell more books because her younger, prettier self is on them? Probably. Do I blame her for not changing her photo? No. I can understand, just as I try to understand those who’ve succumbed to the pressure and joined the Nick and Tuck Crowd.
I remember one time when I was in high school I went dress shopping with my mother. My mother turns ninety this Saturday, so she was already middle aged when she had me. I remember saying to her, “Why do you always make that funny face when you try on clothes and look in the mirror?” And she said, “Because I can’t believe that fat old woman in the mirror is me.”
Who among us over a certain age doesn’t suffer a shock whenever they look in a mirror? I suspect most people have a “set” age inside. Inside, I’m thirty-five. So when I look in the mirror, I do a double take. Whoa! Who put all those smile lines there? How can that woman be me?
The photo that will go on the back of my books is just a tiny slice of me in time. But as I was floating on that raft out in the middle of the lake the other day, it occurred to me that if I again wait eleven years before I redo my author photo, by that time I’ll be….Eeek!
