And so the weeks of reading begin today. The shortest book is just over 4 hours. The longest one is 23 hours. My job? Read them, and do my best to judge them fairly. And try not to pre-judge anything based on opinions I may have from previous readings of related or similar books.
It is a very wet, grey, foggy, chilly day. A classic winter day without snow — and I’ve got about 100 hours of reading. I haven’t started yet.
Speaking of candid, yesterday, I took pictures at a birthday get-together. No one likes the pictures. Except me. That’s what they all looked like, but that’s not what they had in mind. Everyone has a mental image, a brain-scanned visual of how they think they should look in a photograph. Since all of these were groups of people — and were shot tightly on a narrow porch — with my super fast lens, they all needed at least some straightening and desaturating. And cropping. Group portraits are always tricky.
Someone will always look weird. He has his or her eyes closed. She looks furious with Gods and Men. Someone else has his jaw hanging open and another one needed to scratch her nose. At that precise second. Blinking and drooling and scratching and making strange faces … followed by group complaining.
This is the point when I turn the originals over to the people in them. Let them figure out how to make everyone’s skin human while skewing the picture straight. I’m going to smile sweetly and forget to bring the camera next time.
Marilyn, stop being snarky.
Oh, alright. HOW ABOUT JUST a little BIT snarky?
Seriously — don’t you hate it when people ask you to bring a camera, then complain about the pictures? I almost gave up photography because of complaining people.
A friend of mine had a great logo for portraits:
“Pictures in which you look the way we see you, $5.00. Pictures in which you look the way you see you, $5,000.00.”
That’s why I love landscapes. Not once has a river ever complained.