So I had to get head shots.

Let me just say that the idea of head shots appeals to me about as much as a root canal, since most of the time I look at pictures of myself and wonder how long that puffer fish has been stealing from my closet. Seriously, ugh.

But a book is coming out and I have to be serious about the writing and promo and although Mr. Man is wonderful and fabulous, it’s not fair to expect him to take amazing head shots. Too much pressure. He’s artistically and technically capable, but that’s just not something you want to have in the ol’ marital file cabinet just in case. So he’s off the hook.

But not design-wise. We’ve already established three grounds for separation/divorce:

1. White cowboy boots. They’ve been a deal breaker for him since the ’80s.
2. Gift of jewelry on a significant holiday. I only wear sentimental pieces, so the appearance of jewelry for Valentine’s Day or Christmas, especially something that might be featured in a treacly commercial, will prompt two questions: What’s her name? and How long has this been going on?
3. Hand-gently-curled-against-the-face dreamy Glamour Shot-style photo of me.

Since No. 3 is out, I had to call in the big guns, which in this case is my friend Kat. She and I taught together for a while, and her second career is photography. She uses natural light exclusively and is great at capturing natural moments. So she’s my girl. I sent her pictures of possible outfits, dragged props and jewelry and whatnot to an office building with great textures and light, and proceeded to let her boss me around for an hour.

And what do you know? I didn’t turn out like the Queen of the Bullfrogs. See?

If you’re in the Orlando area, give her some love. Kathryn Kuehn. Find her here.