I have a confession to make about my author photo: It’s a lie.
Heavily retouched, populated with “reader-friendly” elements, what you see to the right is a complete fabrication.
I don’t own a dog. (I accumulate cats.)
I don’t ride old-school, vintage, soulful longboards. (I ride short boards, newish ones, and I’m an aggro frothing spazz.)
I’ve usually got a beard or mustache going. The last time I was that clean-shaven was for my wedding, in 2003.
I’m smiling, not because I’m happy or friendly, but because I have no idea where I am. My vision is that bad.
I wear glasses. Cliche “author guy glasses.”
And yet, like the extended lie that is a novel, I feel the picture speaks to a higher truth about who I am.
Plus it was my last chance to look young.
(These novels take a damn long time to write. Maybe I’ll use the same picture for the next few books. Won’t be the first time that’s happened, right?)
Below, the original image, before it was retouched by the lovely and talented Ward Robinson.