The Big One! - A Cover Shoot Saga
Eleven book covers in four hours. More than thirty models. Several hundred outfits. A movie studio.
Yeah. . . Your response is right. It was a lot. (Secret smile. I love a complicated event.)
Six months of lists, wardrobe orders, emails, schedule Tetris, production meetings, and controlled panic, ensued. The model scheduling alone was a full-time job. I put in the work, somehow certain that I had this.
The big day was upon us. We arrived on location, locked and loaded, with four cars worth of wardrobe, lighting equipment, snacks, lists, and a whole lot of hopeful audacity. I hired a costume mistress, paperwork manager, finance controller, and was BEYOND fortunate to have the model agent extraordinaire, Deidre Michelle of DMe Talent Agency, to coach our models. Our series photographer, Tino Duvick and I huddled up, took an intense breath, and we were launched on a rocket through time and space at noon.
Models arrived on time, ready, professional. . . And were they ever gorgeous! Every time a new person sauntered through the door, I was newly bolstered.
We got in a zone, and the world narrowed to the list in my hand, ready talent who never failed, and the flash of the lights. I trusted my team, and thank goodness for them because I didn’t have time to so much as double check an outfit. Time passed, but I didn’t notice. The book covers came alive in front of me. It worked. I could see it. My heart raced.
As a group of people were released, another batch would arrive. We had a revolving door of such talent that the room buzzed electric. Every walk of life was in that room. I suppose that’s not surprising, given the cast of eclectic characters in this Hollywood High Chronicles journey.
The model I felt the most for was Maddie Dawn Cordero who portrays Melanie Slate. She had sixteen wardrobe changes. We coated her in blood twice. We put her in every relationship combination, so many pairs of heels that were miserable, and she had to move fast. Maddie handled the pressure like a well-oiled machine. She moved fast, was always perfection, and we were collectively so proud of her.
The camera clicked on the last image, a particularly bloody one, and we all exhaled. I turned, realizing the room was almost empty. Most of the models were paid and released. All costumes were packaged. My team had packed up and stashed everything in the cars. We were left with the core group that included the photographer, agent, costume mistress, paperwork masters, and the models who played the four main characters. Everyone was exhausted but appeared fulfilled.
We had done it, and there was only one thing left to do. My photographer, Tino Duvick of Broken Chain Photography, and I needed to collapse.
We met at the Albuquerque Press Club. With a party pack box of tacos, we slumped onto the porch and sipped margaritas. Our bodies hurt from four hours of rapt attention. Our brains were long sense spent. We stared at each other from across the table, warriors who made it through a task far more difficult than we expected. Slow smiles crept up. Margarita glasses clinked.
We did it!
In true Hollywood High Chronicles fashion, these misfits couldn’t leave it at that. “Let’s hope the eleven hundred photos aren’t crap,” came from Tino, and we cracked up.
