A Simple Life: Chapter 139 (Patreon)

Thankfully Sandra does all of the talking for a few minutes as she goes over the brochure and runs through some ideas she has to update and improve the look of it, which gives me time to settle my nerves and actually apply myself to the task at hand. This was way outside of my expertise. I had zero formal training whatsoever in design, layout or any of the stuff being discussed here. In another scenario I would have stopped this before it even got going and bow out due so that I didn’t embarrass myself. But this time I wanted to at least try to do it. I wanted to help Amos and show him that I was worthy of the faith he was showing in me. And, now that they’d accepted me, I didn’t want to let the Crows down. It was a lot of pressure but I was going to do my best.

As I listen and look at the various panels as Sandra goes through them I lean on the two things I had going in my favor. The first was the countless hours I’d spent pursuing my hobby. I might not have taken any classes but photography had taught me a lot about framing, composition, color theory, and a myriad of other things that might be applicable here with a bit of creativity. The second thing I had, was my Grandpa’s life long claim that I had ‘the eye’. Even when I was very little drawing with crayons or we were out on a walk where I might notice some obscure detail he had always said that I had a natural knack of seeing the beautiful in things that other people passed by without a glance. It was his encouragement that had lead me to taking up photography in the first place. If Grandpa recognized this talent in me then it must be there. It was now my job to bring it out for others to see.

Amos believed in me. Grandpa believed in me. Winona believed in me. It was about time that I believed in myself.

By the time Sandra was done speaking and looked to me for my input I was ready to provide it. While the pamphlet was charming in that amateurish, small business in a small town kind of way, there was a heck of a lot to improve on.

“Um, d-did you d-design this, Ma’am?”

“I did.” She says. “Me and my husband.”

“Oh. M-May I offer a c-critique?”

“Of course.” She says. “Lay it on me, Avery. Pull no punches.”

“Well…” I run my fingers across the open pamphlet. “…the bright p-pink background might grab attention but it is t-terrible for reading. We could keep the pink but p-perhaps as a border instead of a background. And the green t-text is, erm, not ideal.”

“We were trying to go with the company colors.”

“He’s not wrong.” Camille says. “Kinda makes my eyes bleed just looking at it.”

Forging on before I lost my nerve I continue. “Also, the interior photos.” I point at them. “You’ve got them all in a c-column. It looks so rigid and…um, boring. L-Looks like a textbook or something. I’d l-like to lay them out right-left-right just to break up the monotony.”

“Alright.” Sandra nods, keenly interested. “I can see that. You’re really starting from scratch, huh?”

“Um. Yeah.” I clear my throat and swallow, trying hard to ignore my drumming heart and sweaty palms. “And…I think…l-l-less text would be better. Th-There’s too much going on. I d-don’t think many people are going to read all of this.”

“We want to present all of our services and brag up the company though.”

“Sure. M-Maybe just a b-bit more concise is all.” I say. “Fewer words b-b-but with bigger impact. Stuff p-people can read at a glance.”

“Mmm, alright. I’ll think about it.”

“Um…if I r-remember right C-Camille was a v-v-very good essay writer.” I say. “W-Won a big national prize if I recall.”

All attention turns to a surprised Camille. “Uh, yeah. Yeah I did. You remember that, Avery?”

“It w-was a big deal. The whole island w-was proud of you.” I smile. “You think you could edit th-these down a little?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” She nods, a little blush coloring her cheeks as a smile played at her lips. “Yeah, I could tighten this all up no problem. Change the font while I’m at it.”

“Ha! Here I’ve had a Shakespeare working for me this whole time.” The women laugh and the office is filled with a lovely uplifting energy.

My confidence gaining I pull out a piece of printer paper from under the counter, find a pen in one of the drawers, and go through some of the design ideas I had. I run through the simple but flowing layout I had in mind as well as how we might utilize their bold company colors to attract the eye without detracting from the overall experience. I even manage to negotiate for the garage to get a full half of the rear panel. I demonstrate that their part could be trimmed to a clean and efficient listing of the company email, phone number, website and socials, all of which could be easily fit in half a panel, and how much more attractive it would be overall to split the panel in half instead of two thirds and one third. I had to bluff here and there, pretending that I was more experienced than I was at the software for creating such pamphlets, but I figured that it couldn’t be that difficult and I was definitely willing to learn.

Really reaching past my comfort zone I then broach something that had been bothering me since I first saw the brochure.

“I think w-we need something else g-going on on the front panel.” I say. “It’s f-flat, static, l-like s-something you’d see at a c-clinic.”

“A clinic!” Sandra says, aghast.

Emily guffaws. “It does too! ‘Learning to live with herpes’. I can see it now.”

“Emily!”

“I w-was thinking a design or l-logo or m-mascot or something?” I offer. “Something pleasant that w-will make p-people smile.”

“Smiling is better than herpes! What are you thinking?”

“Um.” I swallow. “Your vans are cute and everybody s-sees them around. M-Maybe a van logo? Or…um…W-Winona and I w-were watching a show last night. The Anna’s Hummingbird can be p-pink and green. They’re r-real pretty and n-native to the island.”

“A Hummingbird?”

“M-Maybe feeding from a b-bright pink currant flower?”

“Ooo, very elegant.” Camille smiles. “I like it.”

“I like the van.” Says Emily. “Shows we’re on the go and ready to work.”

“Hmmm.” Sandra scratches her chin. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“You’ll p-probably want to hire an artist or s-something though.” I say. “If it’s g-gonna be the symbol of your b-business.”

“Hmm.” She ponders.

My mind was already buzzing with ideas for the little patch of real estate Win’s Garage would get, but I push them to the back burner for the time being and stay focused. With all of the tough ‘fake it until you make it’ stuff behind me I at last turn to the one part that I could actually speak with confidence.

“Um, if you d-don’t mind me asking, who t-took these pictures?”

“Me of course.” Sandra says.

“Oh.”

She laughs. “Let me guess, not so good?”

“Um…they’re f-fine…”

“But?”

“But…um…it’s p-pretty clear they were t-taken by an amateur.” I say in as gentle a tone as I could manage. “The l-l-lighting is d-different in every one. The angles are all over the p-place. And the portraits, erm, well…”

“That bad, huh?”

“Respectfully, they l-look like mug shots.”

“Ha ha ha!” She chortles, thankfully not taking offense at my criticisms. “You’re not the first one to tell me that. What do you have mind, Avery?”

“Well.” I look back and forth between them, already thinking about the lens I would use, the time of day and direction that would be ideal, and the reflector that I would have to purchase before then. “Natural light’s always best. I thought of a p-picture of each of y-you standing beside one of the vans for the center inner panel. More natural poses f-for sure. I c-can get some photos of jobs you’ve done or the outsides of h-home or businesses you w-work for for the other panels, with their permission of course. Then maybe one of all th-three of you standing in f-front of your office for the front page. The old b-brick building y-you’re in is r-really cool. M-Might as well use it.”

“Yeah, it’s got character.” Sandra laughs under her breath, joined by the other two in some private humor between them. “That all sounds great.”

“Th-That’s just my initial idea.” I clear my throat and force myself to add something I’d held back on until now. “Um…it’s c-c-customary f-for the photographer to g-g-get a small, a very small, credit s-somewhere on the…thing. If that’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She says as if it were nothing. “I’ll leave the photo stuff up to you, Avery.” She says. “But an artist? Mmm. Could be expensive.”

“Probably not as much as you think.” Camille says. “And it would make us look really professional. The mainlanders’ll love it.”

“I might be able to catch you a deal on that artist.” Amos says as he strolls back in wiping his big, greasy hands with a rag. “Hey Winnie?” He calls back over his shoulder. “You got any artist boyfriends that I should know about?”

“Artist boyfr…!?” Winona sputters from the garage.

“Girlfriends then?”

“You might be my dad, but I WILL kill you!”

With one of his signature deep, jolly chuckles Amos steps up to join us. “Sounds like everything’s going well here?”

“More than well.” Sandra says. “You’re man here has given me a lot to think about. Our deal is sealed as far as I’m concerned.” She grins. “Little charmer even got you half of the back panel. Worth it though. This is going to look so much better.”

“A half? Did he, now?” Amos says with a pat to my shoulder. “Didn’t I say that he’s the best.”

I stand there blushing and struck mute by their warm praise. This felt good. Really good! I’d tried to help and I had. I did my best and they weren’t disappointed with me. I hadn’t embarrassed myself or, more importantly, Amos and Winona. And everybody seemed happy. And this wasn’t for anything trivial either. This wasn’t simply helping a customer to find the aisle that held the canned tomatoes. This was something important. Something real. Something lasting. Something that would represent a local entrepreneur and her business. I appreciated what that meant. And something that would bear my name. Sandra had said her current design had been floating about the island for nearly a decade. How long would this design, my design, and the photos I took last? My work would be out there for years to come. I couldn’t wait to tell Grandpa!

Oblivious to me nearly bursting with pride in myself Amos and Sandra turn to other business.

“Yeah. You’re right. Van 2’s brakes are shot.” He says. “It’s not even safe to drive. And the other two…”

As they go through the results of the preliminary inspection I excuse myself and fade off to find my girlfriend.

Chapter 140