So, if you need a bio from me, here’s the basic one, which I’ll try to keep updated. Can’t seem to get the titles to go properly italics, but surely you can fix that:
Stephen Graham Jones is the author of sixteen novels and six story collections. Most recent are Mapping the Interior, from Tor.com and the comic book My Hero, from Hex Publishers, and Stephen lives and teaches in Boulder, Colorado.
And if you need a link for me, either/both of these’ll do:
As for author photos, man, you can search most of them up, but if you want attribution, which frighteningly few of them have, either scroll down for it, or, if the pic you’ve found isn’t thumbnailed here, hit me up, I’ll tell you who it was.
Anyway, if you need one, here’s the two that are making the rounds this year. Just click to get. The cowboy hat one (2015) from the back of Mongrels is “Courtesy of the Author,” and the office one (2016) from the splash page of this site (sometimes) is “KR Jones”:
Well, I guess that axe-pic for Westword and The Stanley gets around as well, but I don’t think any from that shoot are circulating, except on posters:
- The Fast Red Road and The Bird is Gone and Flushboy are all just “Courtesy of the Author” again (guess I don’t even have the original for the Bird-one anymore):
But this pic is what I originally sent FC2 for FRR:
They didn’t so much as chuckle.
- That one on the back of ATBS and Demon Theory: Dixie Knight Photography (I don’t even seem to have the ATBS-one high-res anymore:
Think she took those in . . . 2002 and 2005, maybe? Thinking that’s the same necklace from Bird, in the first one. But, here’s the one I liked for DT:
Why I liked it? Because I’m wearing my Waylon buckle.
- That one on the back of The Long Trial of Nolan Dugatti and Ledfeather: Becky Phillips (she’s not commercial, so, no underline on her name):
These are . . . 2007, 2008, I think. I want to say it was two different shoots, too. Definitely a different fence. Definitely a new necklace. No human can keep any necklace in the world for longer than two years.
- Then there wasn’t one on the back of Bleed Into Me. There also won’t be one on the backs of any of the Lazy Fascist books: The Last Final Girl, Zombie Sharks with Metal Teeth, and Zombie Bake-Off, or on The Least of My Scars either, or The Gospel of Z, or Three Miles Past, or States of Grace, or—of course—Floating Boy and the Girl Who Couldn’t Fly (every time I look, I find one more book . . .). So, here’s a live shot that sums up all of those titles:
- Those ones on the back of It Came From Del Rio and The Ones That Got Away and Not for Nothing and After the People Lights Have Gone Off and Growing Up Dead in Texas, and the front of The Fictions of Stephen Graham Jones: Gary Isaacs:
Gary shot those first three in 2010, I believe, and then we got together again in . . . 2013? 2014? for that sitting-down one, down on Colfax in Denver, at a place called maybe . . . Three Lions? Three-something, anyway. What I remember was that, at some “4:48” in the afternoon or so, the bartender called out “ten cent shots for one minute!”
And, Gary got lots of other cool photographs—I’m saying that wrong. Gary MADE a lot of other cool photographs (dude’s a pro, through and through), but we never used them for anything, I don’t guess.
Is that all the books?
And, I guess I should do attribution for the few magazine shots I still have. Most mags just use a stock kind of photo, but sometimes they send someone out:
In order, these are by: J. Marcus Weekley, Jeff Whitley, and Claudia Lopez (in 5280). There’s another shot from recent at High Country News, but it’s not for the stealing, looks like. It’s in/from the same genre this one is, though—which is also not easily got.
Too, I can’t even fake like I can dig up all the magazine shoots. The three above are just here because the photographer and me got to talking in email or something, or I knew them already.
Oh, and one more, from Kris Saknussem, in which, like that Claudia Lopez one above, I get to wear one of my cool shirts, and be kind of blurry, which I dig so much—being blurry—that I’ll put a couple more like that up. No clue who snapped them, but the first one’s most definitely Kris, from when we were at the Erin Rose bar in New Orleans, right off Bourbon Street:
And here’s one from just now (March 2017), by Kevin Richard Schafer, which he says is free and clear, can go anywhere (but, yes, please associate his name, of course):
And, digging all these up, I found all the ones that didn’t get used, from all the other shoots. What’s missing, though? The smiling ones. Publishers never bite on the smiley-faced ones. Smiley-faced writers aren’t “serious” writers, I guess:
Also missing: a really pricey photo shoot I did for Seven Spanish Angels (which, now that I think about it, also doesn’t have an author photo), down in some derelict under-the-subway subway place in NYC with Michael Mundy (seriously, this was Reliquary territory, like, it was back from when everyone was way shorter, and it was all fingerdeep in dust, and I don’t much think we were supposed to be there, or even know about it). But they’re tied up legally, probably locked in some drawer forever.
Anyway, give me a choice, I’d just use these , as this is how I see myself (2004 and 2016—Texas and Utah):
Before a certain BBQ attacked me and caught my hair on fire long about 2001 or so, my hair was much longer. Here’s some proof. I mean, I blame it on the fire, but it could be that I’m forty-five, too. Either way, mine ponytail, it’s ragging out. I don’t mind the greying—figure you earn your grey—but I do miss the healthy. Here’s a before and after, a zoo in Abilene in the early 2000s, then sixteen years later, on the University of Utah campus:
Looks like I’m wearing the same shirt in those two, but alas, nope: that shirt in the top pic is from these three-packs I used to buy from Walmart—blank, one-pocket—and used up so fast they hardly ever had time to even go through the laundry. That one in the second pic is a guitar-werewolf one from Society6. And? I’ve still got that book.
And here’s from when I used to wear my hair in a braid, longtimeback:
It was about this long then, I figure:
And . . . was gonna say bye, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t post some from this sort-of shoot, below. It was supposed to be for the official best author photo ever—someone I know name of Lucio had shown up with a Madagascar hissing cockroach—but that big loud angry scared bug would NOT stay on my tongue. Evidently it thought the tongue is what comes before the big crunch. But I promise, I wasn’t going to eat it. I just wanted to be on a book jacket with it:
Also? I’ve tried sending this in for my author photo, but nobody ever uses it: