Ready For My Close-Up?

So Harry, the guy who said my blog needed some major work, mentioned that he hated my profile picture: the one where I’m in Glacier, staring at a mountain.  (A spontaneous shot, by the way.  The husband took some other posed shots and they look . . . posed.)  Anyway, Harry doesn’t like that my back’s to the camera.  He thinks that’s unfriendly, and people want to see my face.

And I’m thinking, Really?  Unfriendly?  People really want to see my goofy grin?  (Trust me; it really is goofy.)  It’s not a posed shot; I was just looking at a mountain, and I happen to think it’s a very nice mountain.  Honestly, when I saw it, I thought . . . cool, kind of Lemony Snicket, although he is way cooler, and I don’t look good in a fedora, hate umbrellas (having nearly lost an eye to one when I was a kid), and live nowhere by the sea.

The other thing is . . . I think I look pretty goofy, especially my smile.  Never have liked having my picture taken, which is odd, because I remember that, as a kid, I really looked forward to those nights when my dad would load up the old carousel slide projector and show pictures of us as kids or where we’d gone on vacation.  I didn’t mind looking at myself then.  In fact, I remember being kind of fascinated: like, wow, that kid in the diapers is me? 

I’m not exactly sure when my dislike of being photographed really got started, but I suspect sometime in middle school.  I wasn’t a cute kid: nice eyes, but I had buck teeth, a big nose, a silly pixie haircut.  In fact, my mother once admitted—this is only a couple years ago—that she’d been on the verge of “losing hope” when it came to my looks.  (And I’m, like, gee . . . thanks, Mom.)

So I got camera-shy, and I’ve been that way for decades now.  I did okay with the wedding; that wasn’t bad; the dress was pretty, and I liked the big hat.  My hair was nice and all.  But I’ve never looked that decent again.

Which brings us to the issue of head shots.

Now, it’s not like I’ve never had one before a book cover or a blog.  I once got some done midway through my years in private practice.  They’re nothing amazing—I don’t even remember where they are—but I’m not smiling.  I think I was trying to look calm, serious, and intelligent, only they came out sort of . . . would you trust your children with this woman?

I have no idea what people want or expect when they see a head shot.  Me, I’ve always liked portraits that are unusual—hence, my admiration for Snicket.  I happen to like the shot Dean Wesley Smith uses for the header to his blog–man, I believe that guy’s a frontier poker player–but Dean has the presence to pull off  something like that.  (Go check it out; top left of the blog, not the head shot on the right–though that’s nice, too.)

The point is that anyone can look like a realtor, which is what I frequently think when I see posed head shots.  But what are people looking for when they check out an author (or anyone else they’re curious about)?  Do head shots matter at all?  And I’m curious–since I did go to the trouble of having head shots done years ago before my first YA came out, and some of which follow below (my hair’s shorter now and reddish)–which do you prefer? Posed?  Spontaneous?  Profiles?  Frontal?  From the back?  Looking off into the middle distance like a visionary?  (Not that I have any of those.)  But inquiring minds want to know.

So, here I am, doing my impression of a realtor:

Me, looking laid-back, let’s kick cow patties:

Me, looking a tad weird and odd because I am a tad weird and odd, but hey, I admit it (and this is the shot you’ll see on my covers):

Or do you guys like profile shots that have no humans in them at all?  If so, we could go for:

Maxine, all tuckered out after watching me work;

Or Winslow, wondering if that cake just happens to be for him;

Or Little Winnie, when he was sweet and adorable and only wanted to be my little muse.

Have at it, guys.  I’m curious.