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	<title>Photography &#8211; James W. Hall</title>
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	<description>A Master of Suspense</description>
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	<title>Photography &#8211; James W. Hall</title>
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		<title>Photography</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[JWH]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Jul 2017 12:49:20 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[When They Come For You by James W. Hall]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Photography]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[My dad was an amateur photographer. Maybe even a semi-pro. He set up his own darkroom in our basement and developed his own photos for many years. When the family was out in public together, he almost always had a camera in hand, embarrassing the hell out of all of us. We got used to [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My dad was an amateur photographer. Maybe even a semi-pro. He set up his own darkroom in our basement and developed his own photos for many years. When the family was out in public together, he almost always had a camera in hand, embarrassing the hell out of all of us.</p>
<p>We got used to it eventually and ignored him. He wore us down. He also subscribed to a lot of photography magazines which he kept in the basement. They were full of nudes. Even more explicit than the Playboy magazines of that era. I always wondered if part of his fascination with photography had something to do with the erotic possibilities. Wish he was still around to ask.</p>
<p>After he returned from the war, he intended to study photography at Emory University. When I asked him why he&#8217;d chosen not to go, he said, &#8220;Because you boys came along.&#8221; Always felt a little guilty about that. My father didn&#8217;t follow his bliss because he was a responsible man of his age, putting family first before his own dreams.  In any case, my father&#8217;s passion for photography, and his frustrated dreams to become a pro, inspired me to follow my own artistic career direction.  Not having children allowed me to indulge in my own creative development.  <img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-558 img-responsive" src="http://jameswhall.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/372811_18.jpg" alt="" width="840" height="674" srcset="https://www.jameswhall.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/372811_18.jpg 840w, https://www.jameswhall.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/372811_18-150x120.jpg 150w, https://www.jameswhall.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/372811_18-300x241.jpg 300w, https://www.jameswhall.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/372811_18-768x616.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 840px) 100vw, 840px" /></p>
<p>Here&#8217;s one of his photos from the early 50&#8217;s.  The girl in the wagon lived next door when we were living in Evansville, Indiana.  Her name was Marsha, and years later, my mother told me that I considered Marsha my girlfriend.  I remember how she used to swing on her swing set in the back yard adjacent to ours.  She would swing very high.  I was impressed, thrilled, jealous.  I think my dad captured two pretty unique facial expressions on these two kids.</p>
<p>I&#8217;ve used photography in several of my novels and short stories. One of those stories, <strong>Over Exposure</strong>, is about someone like my father&#8217;s fascination with photography and a certain model he encounters. That story appears in my collection <strong>Over Exposure</strong>, which you can find on Amazon.</p>
<p>I also used photography in <strong>Body Language</strong>. Alexandra Rafferty is a crime scene photographer, and her eye for detail helps her solve the crime and save herself.  When I was inventing a new protagonist for what I envision as a long term series, I again turned to photography.  This time Harper McDaniel is the daughter of a famous celebrity photography (think Annie Leibowitz) and through apprenticing for her mother, Harper learns a great deal about reading faces, and capturing the split second when a true emotion or glimpse of an authentic persona appears.  This skill will serve her well as she must go hand-to-hand against an array of bad guys and gals.</p>
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