With the upcoming publication of the Book of Wrong Answers, it occurred to me that as an author, I would need to appear more sophisticated.
Unfortunately I have neither the time nor the budget for a new look. You know, that author look.
sophisticated.
respekable.
writer-like.
Instead, I’ve opted for a low-budget approach to worldliness and sophistication.
I began with glasses. All writers have a pair of glasses somewhere right?
Glasses were not sufficient.
I needed more.
So. I’ve shaved my beard. Mostly.
I’ve entered into the land of the mustache.
It’s a mythical realm.
Inhabited by the likes of Tom Sellick, Charlie Chaplain and Eddie Murphy.
Standard and understated like Alex Trebek or as odd as Dali, mustaches require more maintenance than a beard. They’re a conscious choice to NOT to shave a very specific area.
A quick search yielded no images of people with a ‘cheek’ mustache - a mustache shaped clump of hair existing only on one cheek.
Perhaps they are out there and are not yet doccumented.
Or perhaps there is someone out there with an unusual skin disorder that keeps hair from growing anywhere except in a mustache shape on their cheeks.
If you are that mustache cheeked person and you are reading this: Holy crap that’s a hell of a coincidence!
Odd how these non causal relationships seem to line up.
Anyway. Back to the mustache.
So far, it works.
I’ve dusted doughnuts with it.
It’s been dipped in my morning coffee and is now two tones of brown.
It is a provider of many levels of sensory joy and stimulation.
No, I’m not talking about mustache rides you dirty perverts.
I never thought I would be a mustache guy.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I’m a bit startled by the person looking back.
And?
I’m a bit startled by the fact that I’m becoming an author.
It’s fun to surprise yourself.
Sometimes, it takes time - the book has taken a year.
It began with a decision.
The mustache? That took ten minutes.
It began with a decision too.
Both of those decisions?
They were both fun.
And examples that we can be who we want to be. Some versions of ourselves require more work than others.
So. Be creative.
Save your mustache and write a book.
It’s like the old saying goes:
Long is the road to nowhere.
Both decisions are reversible. The difficult or impossible to reverse decisions? Those are commitments. I have a phobia-like relationship with commitments. Yes, healing required. If you created a mustache and couldn't make it go? That's ridiculous? No, that picture inside the cover of your first book, that's permanent. As were my wedding photos and my wedding hair. I let others choose those and well, they weren't me. They were gifts and I accepted gratefully. But they were nothing like what I would choose. I didn't care at the time; still don't really. It was a moment in my life. I see the photo of my wedding occasionally and cringe a bit; just another moment in my life of not being comfortable, not feeling like myself. I recently received in the mail, a candid wedding photo by a family member, me in the reception line explaining who a guest is to my husband. I still have the hair of another woman, but I am talking with my hands, a familiar gesture frozen in time and I am happy, genuinely smiling. As a teacher, that's an image I identify with and although the same elements that make me uncomfortable are in that photo, this one makes me smile. My message is, don't look like an author, look like yourself. Take a picture of you on your bike in mid-air giving the world the bird, surfing or performing an act. I don't think people want to read author-looking authors. I think they want a unique voice. Yours is. Don't package it to look like everyone other talking head, which you are not. As the old saying goes, people judge books by their covers and people by their pictures. There's a reason mustaches are less popular than clean shaven and beards. But maybe it's your jam? Or just in your jam?