airbrushing

As the publication date for my novel (April 22) draws closer I am grappling with tasks required to promote my book.





Earlier this week I was interviewed by our independent community paper in central/north Edinburgh, the Broughton Spurtle.  The interview was conducted by the charming and witty Alan McIntosh.

When I approached the paper to see if an interview was possible, I didn't think about how different it might be answering questions face to face, rather than by email, as has happened in other interviews.

I therefore turned up at our delightful local café, aptly named Nom de Plume, somewhat anxious that I might be asked challenging (and non-answerable) questions about how studying literary theory
(a mandatory if unproductive part of my Masters in Creative Writing) had impacted on my writing.  There was nothing like this.  Instead the questions were about how long I'd lived in Edinburgh, a bit about the book, what authors I read, why I'd chosen to follow the route of e-publishing, and what my next book was about.  A pleasant experience.



Today was the .... photo shoot.  My nearest and dearest had told me that the photo I was using for various websites and other promotional material was horrible.  Sometimes we need strong language for messages to be heard.  So I trawled the web and chose a photography studio.  This was the easy part.  Having committed to a date, I then had to decide what to wear.  Even just a head and shoulders photo throws up innumerable challenges.  What clothes for the upper body would suit me, lie properly?  What should I do with my hair?
Should I radically rethink the shape of my eyebrows?  What about makeup?

I ended up unearthing my only smart jacket - which has seen daylight once during the last six years, and buying a top which complimented its colour.  I went into Boots and informed an assistant that I was looking for a cream which would give my face an even skin tone, powder to cover the shiny bits and a hypoallergenic mascara.  I then realised that my usual plum coloured lipstick did not go with the aubergine jacket, so ended up buying a  purple lipstick.

As I ironed my crushed-but-full-of-potential-and-most-forgiving jacket, I realised that by the time I'd stepped off the bus near the photography studio, the jacket would no doubt be crushed again.  Ah well.... some battles can't be won.


The photography session was fun. The photographer, a Hungarian woman, was skilled at establishing a rapport. I confessed anxieties about how I might look, how much airbrushing might be required.  She would use 'softening' techniques, she told me, to compensate for the harsh but necessary studio light.  'Softening' - what a wonderful word.  A euphemism, perhaps.  Who knows?

She was lavish in her compliments - lovely; yes, this one's good; brilliant; you're a natural. Despite my cynicism, I was happy to suspend disbelief and lapped up such comments like a love-starved animal.

Of course it occurred to me afterwards that such comments are de rigeur in these situations.  Tell someone they look great, and perhaps they will.  And now I think about it, I'm sure there's evidence that in academia, the tutor's belief in the student can result in a raised standard of work.  But I digress....


And so I turned my head this way and that, lent forward, supported my face on my fist; smiled with my eyes, with my mouth closed, my mouth open. I thought of funny incidents in order to produce the right degree of smiling.  I sat, I stood. I folded and unfolded my arms.  I changed tops, earrings and necklace.  I added eye make up and more lipstick.  I felt - for an hour - like a celebrity.







For the rest of the day I reverted to being and feeling like a normal person. Burning up calories for two hours of tennis with my son, then replacing them with a mince pie and chip supper on the way home.









Next week I will return to the studio to view a slideshow, and choose my favourite images - black and white and colour.  Will I be nervous?  Undoubtedly.  But if only one of those photos really grabs me, it will have been worth it.

Jane