It seemed like such a good idea. I mean, how difficult could it be to take a few snaps and increase my chances of success? Er, well, not hard at all if you follow the rules, but I didn’t. In fact, I made the odd bloomer, which I’m more than happy to share with you.
Mistakes are expensive; everyone knows that. So, as I’ve already paid the full price for the following beauties, I thought I’d donate them to you – free of charge. Take advantage of this month’s special offer, and use my clangers to avoid the cost of making your own.
There is no doubt that offering photographic illustrations to accompany an article increase your chances of acceptance, not only that, the amount you receive will also be much more substantial. There are, however, some errors that should be avoided at all costs when submitting a proposal that promises photographs to accompany the finished piece.
This is your opportunity to see the error of my ways.
Not Using The Right Format
I had an idea for an article about the monolithic churches in my corner of France. I went off and took photographs of three of the most interesting of these historic monuments, had them developed as prints and planned my article around the best of them. I then sent an outline of the article to a magazine, offering it as a photo-feature.
I was oh so proud of myself. I’d done everything by the book, or so I thought.
I heard nary a word for three months, then received a reply from the editor asking if I would send the transparencies by post, and email the text within a week. Transparencies! Transparencies? Who’d said anything about transparencies? Eek! Panic. I ran around like a headless chicken, clutching my fevered brow. Do chickens clutch brows, particularly the headless kind? Who cared?
The acceptance came on a Monday afternoon, meaning I had just five days to write the article and deliver the transparencies that I didn’t have. Writing the piece was the least of my worries. I didn’t have transparencies. Have I already mentioned that I didn't have transparencies? I emailed to ask if they would accept prints, the editor replied referring to their guidelines. NO PRINTS.
What to do? I didn’t have time to visit the churches, take more shots and get them developed before the deadline. Further rapid reading of the guidelines produced a glimmer of hope. They accepted digital photography. Now I don’t actually have a digital camera, but I do have a super-duper scanner and imaging software. Perhaps, I thought to myself, I could scan the pictures and send them by email. The only fly in that particular batch of ointment was that I’d never learned to use said software. I wasted half a day before my dearly beloved, who could no longer bear to see me writhing on the floor in agony, decided to help by reading the guidelines thoroughly. He pointed out that the scanned images had to be sent by CD. Only a slight drawback there: I don’t possess a CD writer.
Eventually I had to own up. The editor agreed to my sending the prints; but she wasn’t pleased. If they couldn’t use them they’d have to source images from outside. Fortunately the article went ahead with a selection of my pictures, but I was made to realise that it wouldn’t be acceptable for it to happen again.
Although I’d been given very little time between her reply and the deadline, the error was mine. I had committed the most basic of mistakes; I hadn’t checked to see which format the magazine required.
The moral of this story: Always read the guidelines for photographic submissions BEFORE pitching your query.
Not Checking What Was Available Before I Submitted My Proposal
I interviewed a young French couple who had converted an old watermill into a home. Did they have ‘before’ photographs? Oh yes, they assured me, they’d taken plenty of photographs before and during the conversion.
This time I’d done my homework. Once bitten, twice… Well you know the rest. The magazine I targeted used transparencies, except in the case of ‘before’ photographs when they would accept prints enlarged to 10 x 8. I put together an outline from the interview, offering the article with ‘before’ prints and transparencies of the converted mill.
This time the query was accepted almost instantaneously. I purred with self-satisfied pleasure. What a professional I was! Such pride deserved the fall that followed.
I arranged to photograph the mill and asked the couple to have their ‘before’ photographs ready for me to choose the best of them for enlarging. Of course they couldn’t find the majority of their snaps. They only had a few, and they were all so dark nothing could be seen. I had to explain to the editor there would be no ‘before’ pictures, even though I’d promised them in my query.
Again the fault was mine; I hadn’t looked at the photographs before offering them to the editor.
The moral of this story: Check, check and check again BEFORE making offers that are dependent on the actions of others.
I am now very careful when submitting queries promising photographic material. I read the guidelines very carefully, review any photographs not taken by me, and limit the scope of the article to parameters I know I can deliver.
The fee for submitting a photo-feature package can be as much as four times the payment for the text alone. So grab your cameras and get snapping, but learn from my mistakes, and do your homework first.
Bon courage!
Lorraine Mace 2004
