Apparently, having a social media presence means more than being Facebook friends with a couple hundred former schoolmates. No, liking people’s kids’ prom pictures and sharing links to Huffington Post articles with like-minded folks does not constitute a “platform.” Which is why we are here.
I figured out (translation: I was told by a wise and gentle friend) that I needed an author page and a website. A first step was going to be to get an author photo taken. Ugh. I already had a professional photo, one that I don’t hate. It appears on my law firm’s website. But, not surprisingly, it looks like a photo from a law firm’s website. It was time for something a little less lawyerly.
I could have had a photo taken by … umm … what to call him here? Calling him “my boyfriend” sounds like we are 14 years old. Calling him “my partner” doesn’t really paint an appropriate picture of our earth-moving, heartbeat skipping, weak-at-the-knees romance. For now, let’s go with the Man of My Dreams (MoMD), shall we? MoMD has a real camera, and he knows how to use it. But in the end, I decided that it would be worthwhile to spend the money for a session with a professional photographer if that meant we could avoid the distractions, the hurt feelings and the tears that would likely cast a shadow over the experience if MoMD and I ever got around to actually doing it. I imagined would be like assembling a complicated piece of Ikea furniture together. Without instructions. With his mother watching. (We’ve done that. Trust me, it wasn’t pretty.)
As you might imagine, New York City has plenty of headshot photographers to choose from. I picked someone whose website I liked, whose fee was sort of mid-range, and who was able to book a session one week out. The weather was not kind (you’ll have to take my word for it when I tell you my hair looked amazing before I left my house that rainy morning). But it was fun. And I ended up with enough good photos that I was able to choose a few keepers. I’d say it was money well spent.
