Let's Talk about Photo Books: Part 1

By Bill Shapiro

For the last few years, I’ve been helping photographers make their photo books. So it’s probably not surprising that when photographers approach me, they often have two questions: “Should I make a photo book?” And “How the hell should I start the process?” In this post, I’m going to speak to the first question. I’ll get to the second question in a week or so.

I understand the desire to make a photo book. In a world of ephemeral swipe-swipe-swipe social media posts and web sites that go unvisited, the prospect of having a solid, three-dimensional collection of your work is pretty attractive. Somehow, it makes your work feel more, you know, real. Also, creating a photo book allows the photographer to direct the reader’s journey through the pictures, to create a narrative arc, to pair photos across a spread in a way that allows the images to speak to each other and perhaps reveal something new. Books can also lead to press coverage that boosts your exposure, potentially leading to assignments or print sales.

So I get it. I really do. And believe me, I love making photo books. Over the last couple of years, I’ve had the pleasure of working on some wonderful projects, from Camera Girl (Polaroid photos of ‘80s dance-clubbers in NYC) to Todd Webb’s new book of Paris street photos to a collection Clark Winter’s super-fun car-focused images to Say Less, Dr. Greg Gulbransen’s deeply moving book about a gang leader which won the 2024 Lucie Award for best photo book. A pretty wide range.

The first question I always ask a photographer is not about the work but simply this: Why do you want to make a book? After a little back and forth, the answer often comes down to them wanting something that will some make their work feel more legitimate … or to create something that they can hand out to photo editors, potential galleries, or print-buyers. In other words, an over-size business card.

To my mind, those aren’t the best reasons to make a book. Which is not to say that I don’t understand and sympathize with the motives. But the winning reason to make a book is that you have a story to tell that is best told in book form. That is, a story that takes advantage of the unique properties of books: the rhythm of turning pages, the negative space on a page, the opportunity to juxtapose pictures in a way that reveals something else, the ability to include text that illuminates certain aspects of the work, etc.

The photo book world today is complicated and, odds are, you’ll have to cough-up real money to subsidize the publication of your book. Could be a few thousand. Could be $20,000. Could be more. (The way it typically works is that a photographer agrees to buy a set number of books from the publisher at a discounted rate; this “advanced sale” serves to limit the publisher’s downside risk … and leaves the photographer with a basement full of books.) It will likely be a very, very expensive business card.

Getting a photo book made can also take some time. While a few books that I’ve worked on have gotten an almost immediate green light, in most cases, the proposal process and any subsequent contract negotiations can take the better part of a year. And that’s even before production begins. And then there’s printing, shipping, and distribution, which itself can take nine months to a year.

So for the photographers looking to create a sexy leave-behind, I often suggest creating a high-quality zine. A big, glossy zine is going to be less way expensive than producing a book, not to mention easier, and you’ll have more control over the final product. (I recently saw an absolutely stunning zine produced by Brilliant Graphics, the printer that many BluePhoto photographers work with.)

The next two questions I often ask are: Is this the right and best project for your next book? Is now the right time make it? Often, the photographers I meet with are deep in the middle of or have just completed a project. They’re understandably excited about it and want to get it out into the world as soon as possible. Which, again, I totally get. That passion is important. But you only get one chance to make a first book, and it’s worth stepping back, taking a breath, and seeking a little perspective before fully committing to making a book. A photographer once brought me an incredibly cool project; after doing a little research, I discovered that in about two years, there was going to be a major anniversary tied to the event the book focused on and, from a PR and marketing point of view, waiting a beat would yield far more interest in his project.

The last question I ask is the most telling and most brutal: Who is the audience for this book? “Everyone” or “Everyone who likes photo books” is not the right answer. A photographer must absolutely consider the potential buyer and consider why that demographic would be compelled to plunk down $50 on a book. I’ve found that the answer to this question is often at odds with the photographer’s own desire to make a book, and it requires being truly honest with yourself. I’ve worked with photographers who couldn’t come up with a good answer to that question and decided to revisit the work with a buying audience in mind. I’ve worked with photographers who decided the project ultimately wasn’t right for a book. And I’ve worked with photographers who agreed that the audience was undefined but decided to move forward anyway. All reasonable responses, but it’s best to know where you stand before you get started.

Stay tuned for Part II on making your photo book.