When I was at my dad’s house this past week, I found these two photos behind a door on an old dusty shelf.
The first one (me!!) was taken when I was 21 or 22 outside the garage apartment I lived just after college. I remember liking it so much that I figured I could use it as a jacket photo when I published my first novel at age 25.
Ahem.
Now I guess I’ll see if it looks similar enough to reality for me to use when I publish my first novel at age… 60? (smiley face).
The second one is my beautiful sister somewhere around the age of 12 or 13 (my best guess). It’s always been one of my favorite pictures of her (that beaming smile and those uncomplicated eyes). Glad to have them both around. I like the happiness we’re both projecting at those different ages, despite everything we’d been through to that point.
