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Yes, that's right. I'm talking about the Photography Business. While Photography is something that everyone is familiar with, the business of photography is a complete mystery. You probably can't talk to your parents about it, and people on the internet may just tell you rumors that probably aren't true. Talking to other photographers often doesn't help; most will try to talk you out of it, warning that it's a saturated market and there's no way to make a living at it anymore. As you may have already learned, pros are reluctant to share their "secrets," or provide much useful advice on what to do or how. (Of the photographers I've emailed when I was learning, few replied, and of those that did, none gave any useful advice. (One even tried to sabotage my efforts, since my goal of pursuing travel photography encroached on his turf.)
By contrast, commercial assignments may involve additional income from the client if their use of the pictures may have ongoing royalties, such as for books and postcards. Most who shoot these assignments, though, rely on the bulk of their income from the assignment itself, not the (rarer form of) residual income, such as royalties. The nature of these pictures may or may not be useful to buyers beyond the client itself. But even if so, it's not necessarily the case that the client would allow it. Some would, some might not. We'll get into that later. The point is, service-oriented photo businesses are specifically the kind where you take pictures at the direction of, and for the benefit of, a paying client. This is as opposed to a speculative business model, where you shoot the photos first, and then you try to sell them later to prospective clients. Here, your main objective is to anticipate (and then shoot) photos that you think may be needed by a particular buyer or business segment, and then sell those pictures in the open market. It's called "speculative" because you're going to the time, cost and effort to take the pictures without any assurance that you'll be paid. The rationale for this approach is that you can take a lot more pictures on your own, especially if your very well-aware of the businesses that could use such pictures (and especially if you already have ongoing relationships with them). Although you wouldn't be paid to shoot the pictures, you'd more than make up for that difference by selling them in much larger quantities to any number of buyers.
By contrast, the speculative business model has the risk that you'll shoot a lot of pictures and either never sell any, or they'll sell too slowly (or for too little money) to earn enough to maintain the business, let alone the necessities of life. On the other hand, your upside potential is unlimited: if your photos are good and relevant to enough buyers that you're selling thousands of photos repeatedly to thousands of buyers, then you could not only earn very good money, but your income is not restrained by the hours you work. That is, sales can happen without your even working anymore. It turns out that most opt for the "speculative" business model for one reason: they've taken pictures for many years as a hobby, and now want to sell them in the open market. That, or they travel, or they are involved in events or activities that has them taking a lot of pictures, and are now realizing there might be a market for selling what they already have. For most people, selling existing inventory of pictures is a no-lose prospect: they have the photos, why not sell them? But, making money is any capacity isn't easy. If it were easy, everyone would do it, and everyone would be rich. Making money with photos, a commodity that is not in short supply in the world, is really hard. Passive income like this is harder than you think, and involves building a reasonable business foundation to support this venture. Then there are those who wish to truly build a career in photography, where this is their main source of income. They have additional concerns than mere speculators, as I'll address soon. In either case, it turns out that those who are most successful financially are those who blend the two business types. Using myself as an example: I am sent on assignments to photograph adventure travel trips for a company that uses these photos in their catalogs and other promotional materials that advertise those same trips. I am paid a fixed fee for these services, and in return, the client has unlimited use of these photos. However, I also have use of the same photos, which I sell in the speculative after-market, where I find others who want to use the pictures for other purposes. (I take care not to license the same photos to competitors of my paying client.) Whether you want to build a career, or just casually make money in photography, you need to begin by understanding your skills, interests and circumstances, as these will help you determine where your focus and attention should be directed. I've known some people who are just born to do portraits or weddings, so there's no question where their focus should be directed. Others, like me, choose photography more as a byproduct of my lifestyle, not because I have a particular passion for the art. Speaking purely in the context of business-orientation, those who are very people-oriented in their socialization invariably opt for the service-oriented sector. Those who like to work alone, or just shoot what they want to shoot on their own time, at their own pace, they are more likely to go into the speculative market. Yet, what both kinds of photo businesses have in common is that money is not made instantly—it's not the sort of thing just starts happening just because you open up shop. So, the very first thing that anyone should do before seriously considering a photo business is to set their expectations of what is required to make money in this field.
This is the first bubble that needs to be burst: having good photo skills is actually secondary to making money. Running a business requires business skills, not photography skills. That is the most important foundation that everyone needs to understand and commit to memory. A great photographer with mediocre business skills will almost assuredly fail, whereas a mediocre photographer with great business skills will almost assuredly succeed. In fact, really bad photographers can do quite well if they have a good intuitive understanding of marketing, pricing, negotiations, and interpersonal relationships. Another misconception people have about the photo business realm is that they can just jump right in once they know the "secrets" that can quickly advance them to the top. This is almost always coupled with the erroneous assumption that the best way to learn such secrets (or even the business in general) is to work as an intern or an assistant for another working photographer. Although there are some benefits that could be gleaned from such experiences, it is by far more the exception than the rule. Moreover, whatever positive aspects of business that may be learned will probably be more than offset by the what is lost in the time required (that could have been better invested in other learning experiences). That, and the fact that the "mentor" probably made more mistakes himself that would have been better if left unobserved. And because inexperienced photographers won't know that they were mistakes for years to come, it may be too late by then, and bad habits will have already formed. I discuss this topic in more detail in this article.
So, the first things to remember are that it's not about the photography, and it takes considerable time to build your business acumen to the point where you are capable of earning money in a very competitive business environment. You don't just make money at photography, you develop a career in photography. And, like those who go to school, your expectations of income have to coincide with the type of photography you do. Shooting abstract black and white photos of obscure, out-of-focus chairs sitting in completely empty poorly-lit rooms will find you working at the movie theater, along side a college graduate who majored in French-American Poetry. And this is really why most people who attempt photography aren't successful. It's sort of a catch-22: those who are good at self-management and have good business senses tend to go get real jobs that pay tons more money. Photography, as a career path, tends to attract... well, everyone else. On the other end of the spectrum are those who know business concepts too well: they over-analyze the industry, and go to great lengths to try to create a business plan that doesn't actually effect the business at all. It is easier to create a business plan for a service-oriented business than the speculative one, but even here, the actual financial analysis is insignificant compared to the value of the understanding of the photo market-culture in the first place. That is, you can calculate known costs for equipment, real-estate rental and other fixed/predictable costs, just as you can also do an analysis of local/contained population and known competitors to assess market rates. If your analysis is done well, these both help paint a realistic picture of what your real-world expectations can be. But knowing that has almost no relevance to whether you will achieve any of these numbers if you don't know the photo world culture, both in technique and style (which are independent of skills), and of the local community. The financial "business plan" aspect of a photo services model is too simplistic to really matter a whole lot. If you do know the cultural underpinnings of the local photo market, you will learn what you need to know to succeed, at which point, the financial aspects of this can be pieced together with relative ease. As for a stock-photo business (where you take pictures under the speculation that someone will buy them), even though it is a polar opposite from a photo services business model, the relevance of a business plan is even less. When I got started, I had no expenses at all other than the one-time costs of my camera equipment, which I didn't upgrade for eight years. Income was based entirely on my ability to gather traffic to my website, which doesn't cost anything—it's purely a matter of knowing how to do it. And although you could invest money into marketing and other ongoing expenses to garner traffic, there is no buy-side economic analysis you can do to assess whether someone will buy from you. You cannot create a business plan where there is simply no way to come up with reliable numbers for income. Those who succeed or fail in their attempts at any kind of photo business usually do so because they started with the wrong set of expectations first, whether it's the time necessary, the skills needed, or the business understanding of the photo industry. The best results are obtained by those who learn these things more through the blending of other life experiences (such as other jobs/careers) and the longevity of having photography as a hobby for a period of time. This means that those who succeed will have done so by having already accomplished other things first, which brings us to the next section.
What each of these has in common is that they take time. As I tried to stress vigorously in the previous section, it's simplistic to think that one can just "start" a photography business. Therefore, you are going to spend a lot of time with photography before it earns money. Therefore, you're going to have some other source of income while you're at it. There are those who work at photography in their spare time while they worked as a doctor, shoe salesman, stock broker, garbage collector, or a retired high-tech executive who sold his company for millions of dollars. Hard though it may be to believe, none of these individuals has a greater advantage over the other for success because success is not about how good you had it before you started photography, it's about being smart. There is no way to "cheat" to get ahead in this business. (We'll go over that more in a moment.) Regarding the three paths to the photo business listed above, there is no "correct" one. One person may want to just have fun and pull in a few dollars to pay for the hobby, while someone else might want to put his kids through college. Many drift from one goal to another, as conditions in their lives change. (For example, I started out as a hobbyist and ended up making a substantial career out of it.) Your goals may vary depending on the strength of your photography ambitions, down to the lifestyle you are (or aren't) willing to endure. Also, your own past experiences in life and career will greatly affect your business potential and financial needs. But, take note: while there are often tradeoffs between many goals, don't fall into the trap of believing there is only one path to success, or that there are strict rules for succession. No matter who you are, you will eventually learn the first rule of making money that applies to any and all business models:
It's natural to think that if someone else can do it, so can you,
especially when you see the kinds of pictures that are used in magazines,
postcards, and art galleries. This reminds me of the joke:
As a skill, photography is not technically hard. Everyone has a degree of creativity, but it often takes time to refine into a product that can yield income. That's why the joke above applies: most photographers with reasonable competency can look at "commercially successful" pictures and say, "I could have done that." But this isn't what makes you successful. It's having business sense. It's knowing what to bother shooting, and how to sell it to someone. You can probably make a good living shooting shoes for catalog companies, but is that what you really want to do? Because of the nature of the business and of your lifestyle goals, the first thing you need to do is envision what you want out of photography, then what you want out of a photography business. Here is my last quote on the subject:
Photography is more of a lifestyle than it is a labor that one does to earn an income. (One rarely goes into photography because he can't find any other way of making money.)
The misperception that money buys access or success is one of the more "senseless" ideas that permeate the industry on both ends of the spectrum. Rich people who retire and go into photography believe that because money isn't a barrier for them, they'll rise above others without much effort. Likewise, professionals erroneously feel that rich people are hurting the photo business because they don't charge much (if anything) because all they want to do is get their images published. (The percent of rich people who do this is tiny compared to the general public who does it.) They're both wrong, and this misconception of money's role in photography is responsible for the failure of both groups. The rich people will find they spent a lot of money on an elaborate hobby, and the few chance occurrences where their images were published, don't really amount to a career. (Sure, it's a hobby, and there's nothing wrong with that; but it's not a career, which is the topic under discussion.) As for the pros whose careers are stagnating, they've got other problems that go way beyond whatever those rich people are doing.
Ok, let's put this into context. Regardless of what path you choose to enter this business, when it comes to making money with photography, there are two kinds of people: the serious photographer, and the insanely serious photographer. The primary difference (of many) is that of lifestyle. You may think that you're just a casual hobbyist that wants to maybe pick up a few dollars for some pictures, but by the time you actually get those dollars, you'll have invested considerable time and effort. Many drop out by that time, so if you do get that far, now you're the serious photographer. Now, you've achieved that level of "a few dollars," you'll believe that "just a little more effort" can yield considerably better returns. It's sort of like buying a soft drink in a movie theater: the smallest cup you can buy is ridiculously expensive, but for just a couple of quarters more, you can get twice as much. That's what the photography business feels like. But, by the time you learn "a little more work" is really a lot, you've graduated to being the insanely serious photographer.
In fact, the two tracks are so completely opposite of one another, that you can actually do yourself more harm than good trying to make a career using the strategies that a hobbyist might. Similarly, the hobbyist would quickly lose interest by trying tactics that only the professional-minded photographer should use. Put another way, making short-term income often involves tasks that have no long-term benefit. Likewise, there is a limit to how much you can make as a hobbyist, simply because the tasks and methodologies are so brute-force and simplistic, that they can't be automated cost-effectively to yield any appreciable income.
The above joke notwithstanding, given the choices of how to invest time and resources, pro photographers differ from hobbyists this way: Hobbyists put lifestyle ahead of business; they photograph for fun, and then figure out how to make a living at it second. Professionals also love photography, and although it's fun, but they choose options where there is opportunity for long-term growth, and name recognition, which contribute to higher pay and recurring business over the long haul. Note that these are two ends of a very wide spectrum, and not everyone is at one end or the other. Many photographers find themselves somewhere in the middle, and finding your place is your first objective. As you do your soul-searching, remember this quip:
This may help clarify why and how some people go about their photo businesses. Their intents may appear very different than what you see at first blush if you only look at it from one perspective.
Not all vanity businesses are as elaborate or involved. In fact, many don't necessarily have to be profitable. Examples include photo books or postcards, where the primary focus is to bring attention to the artist. (Normally, photo books are regarded more as marketing tools for artists than income generators.) Pros who've migrated away from their more established photography careers into vanity businesses often do so as a form of pseudo-retirement—they can leverage their existing stock of successful images as annuities that bring in residual income without having to remain as active as they used to be. In summary, the vanity business is best accomplished when you're either laid back about your longer-term ambitions, or when you use it as an avenue to pick up additional revenue from images already created through other business means. Either way, this is rarely the end-objective for the career-minded photographer (although it may certainly be an exit strategy after loftier goals have already been accomplished). This brings us to the next section.
For the younger members of this group, there is the option of going to photography school, whereas, older adults usually consider a direct migration path, often involving minutes of dedicated research and seconds of getting out the credit card at the camera store. Let's address each of these approaches. I have two extremely strong points of view on photography school. (Ok. Three.) It's either the perfect (if not only) option, or it's such an incredibly bad personal decision, you might as well spend your money on a good therapist, because that's where you're going to send your parents when they see what's become of you. (While they're on the couch, you'll be in coffee shops, reading the want ads and bitching to friends about how unfair the world is to artists.) My third perspective? Well, let's get to that after I clarify my first two perspectives.
Most successful artists and photojournalists emerge from academic circles. Of course, there are myriads of exceptions, but statistically, they come from fine art schools. Educational programs provide avenues to resources and networks of people who can lead students through the labyrinth of this quirky and often unforgiving realm. You come out with credibility that is respected by people and venues where you'll establish your career. It's such a tight-knit world that, if you're not in school, you may find it hard to compete against those who have access to the movers and shakers in the industry. While I do believe that photography school is imperative for certain people, I have some reservations about this avenue as well. Hence, my second view of art school:
The photo world is very difficult, competitive, and doesn't pay well. And that's the good news. The bad news is that it's also terribly unfair and unforgiving. To succeed, you need to learn business skills and ideas, that will be more responsible for your success than whether you know how to configure studio lights to yield a 2:1 lighting ratio. Most photo schools teach nothing about the real world of the business, and what they do teach has been made mostly obsolete by how business (not just technology) has changed. I'm not talking about digital photography, using Photoshop, or anything like that. I'm talking about how photographers can no longer build businesses on the same foundations they used to. If it sounds like I'm talking you out of photo school, I'm not. I'm just concerned that you will put all your eggs in one basket in terms of your education. Well, unless you're really, really sure. You know, "insane." (I realize you've probably already heard all this from your parents. But remember, I'm not your parent.) And I'm no longer inside parentheses, so you can't pretend you don't hear me. Which leads me to my third perspective on photography school:
I leverage my skills and interests in ways that are not only successful for me, but it's easier to beat my competition. (This point is critical.) Photographers who try to emulate what I do, simply because I've been successful, may be making a big mistake unless they understand the broader concepts of how companies use imagery to market their products or services. Someone with a strong marketing background might do well in this regard. Alternatively, someone migrating to freelance photography from having worked as a photojournalist would be well-suited to sell stock photography into the very market segment from which he came. Having contacts is one thing, but also knowing how the business works—price points, negotiating points, and other inside business inside information—provides a great springboard for upward mobility. If someone is adept at managing teams of employees, who are good at setting up assembly line processes, and can manage distribution channels, that person would be much better suited to selling into the commodity sector, such as gift manufacturers, and so on. The point is, we all came from somewhere. Use that place to your advantage. Remember, all of this applies if photography is your career. If it's just a small money-generating hobby, the "business management" aspect needn't be so time-consuming or troublesome. This is why the migration path can be a more attainable and fun activity. If you have realistic about what an "arm's length" is, and reasonable financial expectations, you're set.
Don't get me wrong—I don't mean to suggest you don't need to achieve a degree of proficiency with your talent in order to build a long-term business. You do. It's just that trying to discuss what is "good" or "salable" imagery is irrelevant. The photo business is less about quality images as it is about knowing how to get people to buy them. And that's what this book is about. If you can do that, your natural ability to create the kind of images that people buy will evolve. On a similar vein, this book is not a "how-to" book on taking pictures, printing, using a camera, or other instructional matters. I do not give advice on what cameras are best, or recommend business services, or websites that can suit a specific need. I present issues that are important to the decision-making process. There other resources for teaching hands-on tutorials on photography tasks. I assume you know how to take the kinds of photographs that suit your fancy; my goal here is to merely present the business issues for leveraging what you produce.
The reasons I don't spoon-feed you answers are two-fold: First, you need to be resourceful and learn how to evaluate your research results, and how to think critically in business terms. Second, the world is changing far too rapidly for any single piece of advice to remain valid long enough to warrant recommendation. Anything I might say as I write this may be obsolete by the time you read it. Lastly, every subject I discuss here can have several volumes of books written about it, so it's impossible to cover everything in the depth it duly deserves. There are many caveats to every issue, and it's infeasible to cover them all, so I focus on the most typical and common cases that may affect you. If you have additional questions, I have written considerably more on all these subjects in related articles on my website (www.danheller.com), which I encourage you to read and send me email. That said, reading this book will certainly get you on the right foot for starting a fundamentally sound business model (or extending your existing one). RADNDOMIMAGE All of the discussions in this book are based solely on business strategies that thrive in a heavily competitive environment where your peers aren't necessarily looking out for your best interests. The assumption here is that you are ultimately responsible for your own career. So, now that you know what I'm going to cover, it's time to do your part. First, see the big picture. The biggest mistakes just about everyone makes when reading business books are:
In the grand scheme of things, it's better to learn how to think for yourself, be analytical, resourceful, efficient and effective. These are timeless business attributes that will garner success in any endeavor.
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