I’ve been asked to send in an author photo by the end of the month to be used for the upcoming fall launch. I can specify that it can be for launch only, and not for other marketing purposes or to use on the book, which I may have to do, because I have less than two weeks to find a viable photo of me.

At the moment I don’t have any usable options.

Sure, there’s the one where I’m hanging upside down and my hair’s all up in my face and my nose looks like a big white blob because I’m holding the camera so close to my head…

And, sure, there’s the one where I’m trying to smile and one eye is suddenly revealed to be bigger than the other…

And, sure, I have a whole series of self-portraits taken in my studio at the writers colony when I was playing around instead of writing, such as the photo of my head in the fireplace, my head on the table, my head in striped shadows on the dirty floor, my head on the piano, et cetera…

And, oh right, there’s the one where I’m stiffly sitting in a chair and my hair is sticking out to one side and my eyes look dead…

A great favorite is the one of me when I just had my wisdom teeth out and look like a pained, drugged-up chipmunk. Do you think people will want to buy the book if they feel sorry for me?

I’ll come up with something. Unfortunately, of all the talented photographers I know, none of them live in New York City anymore. How is that possible!

* Thoughts of the Elliott Smith song run through my mind. (Oh, Elliott Smith, you are missed.)