Photographer, please write
Writing can transform your photography business. Here's why, and how to begin, with two simple exercises.
Moi!
This week’s letter is a gentle nudge for every photographer (or creative) who’s ever thought, “I don’t know how to write about my work.”
I’ve been there. And after 15 years behind the camera, I can honestly say that writing has changed everything. It’s the perfect match for photography.
This post shares two simple writing exercises, a few stories, and a gentle reminder: your voice is part of your art. Let’s make sure people hear it.
Warmly,
Nani
Which one would you choose?
Let’s start with a thought experiment.
If there are two equally good shops, but one aligns with your values and makes you feel at home, while you know nothing about the other… Which one would you choose?
Right? Me too.
It’s natural for us humans to move towards familiarity. Of course we want to choose the shop where our needs are met.
A photograph stops, the caption connects
This is true, I believe, for all business owners, so it must apply for us photographers as well.
I spent a couple of years consulting and coaching on social media. I came up with a mantra which still stands today:
The photograph freezes, the caption connects. By interaction with others, we show we care.
Honestly, I still agree with myself.
What it means is that, as photographers, we might know how to stop the scrolling thumb, but far too often, we talk about the weather.
It doesn’t matter if the viewer is on our website or on Instagram. Their attention span is extremely short. We have just seconds to connect, make them feel at home.
“You’re the same in real life.”
It’s a good idea to aim to be the same person on both sides of the screen.
If the client doesn’t feel at home with us, it’s more difficult for them to open up in front of the camera, and in the end, to buy from us.
I had been running my business for a few years when I learned something essential about the importance of sharing my words as a photographer.
After a well-run photo shoot, a new portrait client told me: “You’re exactly the same live as you are online.”
At first, I didn’t realize the value of their feedback. But when it sank in, I started to review my online presence more closely.
I realized I wasn’t any better or funnier, more relaxed, awkward, talented, or even more creative in real life than I was online. I was just being me. Sharing my why in many ways.
If I talked about my love for dramatic light on Monday, I might have shared a personal story about my dog (accompanied with a stunning image, of course) on Tuesday.
Bend over proudly
We know that to create a stopping image, certain elements have to be strong: composition, light, contrast. Was it taken at the decisive moment?
We don’t share photos that stay on the surface. We share our best frames.
But it’s scarier with words, right? It feels like writing reveals something very private, even if we’re only talking about why we do what we do.
I believe this happens for a couple of reasons.
Many of my mentees and workshop attendees say that they don’t write because they don’t know how to write compelling texts. (But after saying this, they go on and on about their work to anyone who’ll listen.)
Almost as many say they’re afraid they’ll lose potential clients if they reveal too much. It feels safer to share images than words. Words pull you underwater.
And it’s true. If you bow to one, you turn your back on another. It’s always easier to keep the shop window tidy than to let people wander between the shelves.
It’s scary to talk about the things that matter most. To pull them in. To invite them behind the counter.
Fast wins, slow wins
And then there are some, myself included, who are also writers, but the slowness of the process eats us alive.
Let me confess: I probably lost myself as a writer by becoming a photographer.
When I found photography in my twenties, I couldn’t believe my luck. It came so naturally, and the more I learned, the better I became.
I’m not sure film photography would have been as big of a win, since I love the speed of digital. Maybe I should be ashamed of saying this, but I’m not. I love that the image I saw in my head is suddenly on my screen, ready to perfect.
It’s. Right. There.
Writing is slower, but it can give us wins, too.
They might come in the form of a new client or a bigger sale. But they also bring inner rewards. Few things feel better than knowing you’ve managed to put your thoughts and ideas in the right order on the paper (or screen).
With writing, it just might take more time to get to the best part.
After 15 years as a professional photographer, I still love the fast wins. But at this point in my career, I can tell you with 100 % certainty that writing is the single biggest thing that has made me a better photographer and creative entrepreneur.
Why? Let me tell you.
Connections
Each time we share something of ourselves and our why, there’s a chance to connect with someone.
Maybe it’s someone new. Or maybe it’s someone who's been following your work for a long time and just needs a little nudge before buying.
But each time we share something valuable, we also connect with ourselves.
Writing is not only for your potential clients, not just for marketing. We write to make sense of our reasons, to learn more about our why. To stay connected with our own work.
And when we feel connected to our work, it’s easier to word it for others and invite them over.
Your job is to sound like yourself
Photographers have a visual voice. There are masters who never explained their work, yet their style is instantly recognizable.
Finding and using our voice means that our work aligns with our why and stands out from the crowd.
We all have a unique voice, in many ways. We sound different, we think differently. There won’t be another you.
When I realized this fully, my take on my own work changed. I’m here not to sound like everyone else, but to sound like myself.
A photographer’s voice is heard not only through their images but also through their words. Something Kathleen or Emily from the Being Boss podcast said years ago has stayed with me:
You’ll find your voice by using it.
Exercise 1: Write with the help of your voice
Sometimes it’s hard to get the words on paper, but talking usually helps.
Here’s what Seth Godin has to say:
No one ever gets talker’s block. No one wakes up in the morning, discovers he has nothing to say and sits quietly, for days or weeks, until the muse hits, until the moment is right, until all the craziness in his life has died down. [...]
Writer’s block isn’t hard to cure.
Just write poorly. Continue to write poorly, in public, until you can write better.
Try this next time words won’t come:
Pull out your phone
Open Voice Memos / Recorder
Talk your talk
Transcribe (Your iPhone might do this automatically)
Edit
Publish
Remember when saying your photography prices out loud felt nerve-wracking? Publishing text that reflects your values can feel just as scary.
But the more often you speak about difficult things and hear your own voice, the stronger you become.
Exercise 2: Script a video ad, and find your core message
Finding the core message is key. It’s your why. WHY do you do what you do?
Once you define it, talking about your work becomes easier. Your core message is your Rome. Every road leads there. There are many ways to say what you need to say.
Your message should be clear to you first. Then it can be clear to others.
If your core message is a bit cloudy, try this:
What would a video ad about your work look like? Imagine it playing in a movie theatre. Sketch a script.
Ask yourself:
What happens in the commercial?
Are there actors? Landscapes?
What’s said? What’s left unsaid?
What tones, light, and mood does it have?
How does the camera move?
For example: a newborn photographer might realize they’re not selling digital files—they’re preserving family history. This exercise helps you move from what you do to what matters.
When you realize what you’re actually selling, everything starts to fall into place.
Two equally good clients
Let’s flip the thought experiment.
If you could choose between two equally good clients, would you pick the one who chooses YOU because of who you are, or the one who just needs some photos taken?
Right? Me too.
I didn’t realize what a difference it makes until I got my first clients who chose me. Like, chose their wedding date based on my availability. Or booked a dog portrait session before the puppy was even born.
There’s something about that crazy trust. It moves mountains.
When I worked with people like that, I started to trust my own vision more. If they trust me this much, could I share more of my work? Myself? My dreams?
In my early years as a professional photographer, I didn’t write much. I was head over heels in love with photography. But years later, words found me again. I’m so glad that happened.
Your voice is unique, but we can’t hear it unless you use it.
Please, use it.
Great advice, I recently joined Substack and I’ve found that it has helped me tell better stories with my images.
Such good points. For me, part of the hardness lies in distilling. Simple is vital—and hard. The fewer the words, the more weight they seem to carry.
Ps. Loved the Morgan Stanley