What's in a Picture

A True Story by Jon Christian

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Recently I read the Oscar Wilde novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. For some reason this gem of a novel escaped my reading catalogue over the years, but courtesy of Project Gutenberg (www.gutenberg.org), which offers books in the public domain for free in e-book format, I was able to download and read it. I encourage you to read it if you have not done so already.

Needless to say, the novel really got me thinking. Many of you have seen the picture I use for my author headshot pictured directly below:

I’m going to tell the secret behind that pic. (So don’t scroll down any further!). Here’s the story:

In the fall of 2015, I wrote a two-page concept paper for a novel and pitched my idea. I was told If you write it (and write it well) the story will be published.

At the same time, things in my life were about to change quite dramatically. You see, we had just learned my wife was pregnant, and I knew finding time to write with a newborn was going to be difficult. I am certain many of you can relate to the late nights and early hours required of parents during infancy. Sometimes, even when the child finally falls fast asleep, you forego this necessity and watch your baby take each tiny sip of breath until they wake up again.

So, after years of trial and error (mostly error) and honing my writing skills, an actual pathway to publication became clear to me. I gave myself a goal—finish my first draft within the nine month period before mayhem ensues. To achieve this objective, I wrote constantly. I wrote word by word, line by line, paragraph by paragraph. I wrote early in the morning before anyone arose, during lunch breaks in lieu of eating, and late at night even when I just wanted to watch my favorite team or settle into my favorite movie.

Mere days before my child’s due date, I etched the last sentence (which happened to be the first sentence of my book, but that’s for another story) and finished the first draft. I had done it! While there was still a lot of work to be done with editing, I felt in my heart the hardest work concluded.

By now you may be asking yourself, what does all this back story have to do with your headshot? Well, just stay with me a moment longer—we’ll get there.

During the first months of my son’s life, we dealt with an extended stay in the hospital where our child spent time under the bili-lights until his liver function stabilized enough to overcome newborn jaundice. We dealt with an extreme case of food allergy, resulting in a prescriptive diet for both mom and baby. Of course, there were the usual things as well—crying, fussing, and diapers Nevertheless, we found time to pay a photographer to take family pictures. Yes, that’s right, we allowed our infant to be placed in a flower pot, on a saddle, and other oddly adorable places so that we could freeze time and reflect on these precious moments forever.

During this madness and for the next two years that followed, I worked on rewrites and editing as time permitted. Finally, I had something worthy enough for publication. It was then my publisher informed me of the need for a headshot for their website.

“A headshot,” I thought. No one other than immediate family wanted a picture of me before (and even then, it was out of pity). So, I really didn’t know what to do about this. I wondered if I should go to one of those carnival photo booths and see what comes out. Or maybe just take a series of dramatic selfies and send in the best one. Perhaps I could pose and have my wife take some pics. Maybe I could scroll through the never-ending google files until I find that funny picture of me holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa from 2007. Unfortunately, none of this seemed right. I guess I wanted this headshot to be perfect, and I just looked stupid in every picture I took. I know you know what I’m talking about—I was forcing some kind of emotion, a timeless proud look with a breath of sophistication … The reality is that is simply not who I am.

With the headshot deadline approaching, and frustration mounting, I took a time out and found myself scrolling those adorable infant pics I talked about before. Within seconds, I was drawn back to those days and everything else slipped from my mind. It was then I stumbled upon a certain picture, that seemed to me to strike the right tone. It was authentic, natural and… happy. I cropped it and made it the headshot you saw at the top of this substack. Maybe you’re wondering, if I wasn’t good at forcing emotion, what exactly was going on at that moment to achieve the look I was seeking for the headshot? You see, it’s what you didn’t see in the picture that matters most. Okay scroll down now!

To quote the great Oscar Wilde, “The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible” and now I understand what he was trying to say…Do you?

The thing is, you don’t have to look hard to appreciate the beauty we see each and every day. Happiness is not going to march into your front door, have a seat on your couch and stay awhile. It takes time to foster this emotion. It’s intentionally slow. It’s something you practice until it becomes a part of your routine. You’re happy because you work for it.

Starting today, take a moment—just a single quiet moment; or even a moment between breaths and think of one thing that was positive. It doesn’t have to be grand either. Maybe you hit the green lights on your way to work or the store. Maybe it’s a warm shower, the one where you purposely feel the water trickling along your skin. I know, that’s not life changing, but you get the idea. Small snack-sized bites of happiness are better than a bag of sour chips (Are those a thing? Maybe they should be…)

Honestly, this is why I started this Substack, to hopefully bring a moment of happy to your week. It’s why I write at all.

Soooo… There you have it That’s the story behind my headshot. I hope you smiled. If you did, you’re on the right path.

Because you smiled, share this post with someone you love today, and subscribe for regular content just like this

Oh! One more thing. I decided to recreate this photo, only without the aid of a professional photographer. Today I practiced happy. Here it is: