It was four degrees in late November when I met my newly-pregnant friend on the street long after the sun had gone down. I was holding my purse in one frozen hand and gripping a purple gift bag that contained her birthday present in the other, and I was trying so hard not to destroy the carefully placed colored tissue paper that I'd molded into shapes of fluffy fans before placing them into the bag to make the whole presentation look prettier. She was hurrying up the dark road, bundled in a wool jacket that was buttoned all the way up to her chin, hauling a bulky camera case.
The last time Nicole took my picture for the back of a book I wrote, I texted her to ask what I should wear.
"Um, you should prepare a TON of outfits!" she exclaimed, and what's funny is that typically my reaction would be the same. I love trying on clothing – when I was little, the dress-up box in my basement that had clothing inside of it that my mom used to wear was my absolute favorite thing besides my stuffed Cookie Monster – but this whole Author Photo deal was a brand new world for me.
