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“Did you decide what you’re submitting for the EPAs?” she asks me.
My stomach twists. “No, I’m not sure yet.”
The European Photography Awards—or EPAs, as they’re more commonly referred to—is the most competitive international photography competition. The photography world’s version of the World Cup. Hundreds of thousands of entries, judged by the most respected names in the industry. One winner per category. Submitting to the Sports one never occurred to me until I was looking through the photos I took after the game. They might be my best options because everything else I’ve taken seems lackluster.
I have a minuscule chance at winning in any category. But I can’t help but feel like what I submit really matters. Just like with the possible staff position at Neues Kluvberg, it’s a rare opportunity to prove photography is something worth pursuing. Not a passing fascination, but an actual career. Me excelling at what I’m meant to do, the same way my family shines on a football field.
“What about the photos you’ve been taking for your internship?” Saylor questions. “Are any of those options?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a lot of options. But none that seem EPA-worthy.”
There are many photos I could submit, but none that I really want to. None that seem original enough or fresh enough or exciting enough.
“You still have some time to decide, right?”
“Yeah.”
Submissions aren’t due for another six weeks. But it’s not like I’ll be going on another safari in that stretch of time. There won’t be any special opportunities to photograph anything different. Just chances to shoot various versions of what I already have as options. That shouldn’t matter, though. What makes the best photographers the best photographers is their ability to make the mundane memorable. The ordinary extraordinary. If that’s a talent I possess, it hasn’t appeared yet.
“Well, I can’t wait to see what you end up sending in,” Saylor tells me. “I wish I had any of your artistic talent. All of the other mothers in my mom group are insanely jealous of the newborn photos you took. They’re all interested in hiring you, so just let me know if you want me to give them your info.”
“Let me get through last semester first,” I say.
But what I really mean is, Let me see if I get a staff position first. That’ll give me the freedom to not have to rely on freelancing.
Any compliments on my photography mean something since I don’t have a ton of confidence in my work. But I’m not hoping to launch a career in baby portraits.
Or football, despite enjoying sports photography more than I was expecting to. My photos from the first game were decent. Alex and Harry seemed very impressed, although that could have just been their gratefulness because I’d agreed to do it. Either way, hopefully, it’ll mean a staff position will be mine.
“Get through?” Saylor raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like the queen of the clubs.”
I roll my eyes. She’s never let me forget I invited her to go clubbing the first time we met.
Before she and Adler became boring parents, we would go out often. Saylor’s the sister I always wanted. And I do love going out to bars. Getting dressed up and meeting new people. I’m young and single, and I’ve tried to enjoy this phase of my life. But lately, it’s felt repetitive. I was bored out with Maria, until I saw Will standing a little ways down the bar. Just like I was bored at Queen Victoria, going through the motions until my feet hurt so badly that I had to leave.
“Lately, it’s just felt like…I don’t know. Like a lot of the same. Same people, same places, same routine.”
“Then, do something different,” Saylor suggests.
Solid advice.
I tried that. I texted Will Aster, and now I keep thinking about him.
And again, I consider telling Saylor about it. She’s seen the craziness of my family up close. Willingly married into it. She’s met some of my exes and gotten to know them better than my parents and Adler. But if I tell her about Will, it will require her keeping it from Adler, and I’m not sure I should ask her to do that. She’s usually in support of any crazy ideas I have. Hanging out with a bad boy who has an infamous reputation is something I could see her cautiously encouraging. But he plays with Adler, meaning his choices affect my brother’s career, and that adds a different dynamic. Football is the one thing Saylor takes very seriously.
I’m not even sure how I would describe what being around Will feels like. Different doesn’t really cover it.
So, I just say a vague, “Yeah, maybe…”
“You still seeing that guy from the bar? Noah?”
Saylor’s the only family member I’ve continued telling about guys. She gives good advice and jokes she’s living vicariously through me now that she’s a boring married woman.
I’m not sure anyone could call Saylor boring with a straight face.
“No, I’m not,” I answer. “He took me to Kluvberg’s last friendly match.”
Saylor groans. “No, he didn’t.”
