Not Every Photographer Is Right for Every Job — Including Me
Why I say no, and why you should too.
I'm going to write this for every photographer who’s ever been asked to be someone they’re not. And for every client who deserves the right fit. So let me be clear: I’m going to tell you why not to hire me.
When I began my career as a photographer, I noticed a trend. Well-meaning people assumed that because I had a camera in my hand, I must be an all-purpose photographer. I wasn’t prepared for what came next — and to this day, 13 years later, it still happens. The only difference now is that I give a much better response: No.
It’s not unusual for someone to tell me how much they were quoted for photos and then ask, “Do you want to do it instead?” or “Would you consider bartering?” And let me say — this isn’t written to shame anyone who’s asked. Quite the opposite. I want to be helpful here. Truly.
When you hire a photographer who has chosen a niche, you’re paying them for that specialty — not just in price, but in preparedness, experience, strengths, software fluency, and composition skills. Every photographer has spent time — honest-to-goodness time — building their knowledge. If you see someone’s work and it’s good, hire them. Pay them what they ask. If you can’t afford it, don’t try to negotiate them down. Asking someone to take less for work they’ve invested years into is not the solution.
Your only real option at that point is to find someone whose work you also admire — and whose pricing fits your budget. Their rates may be lower not because they’re inexperienced or less talented, but because they’ve chosen (or felt forced) to undervalue their work, their time, and their training — just to stay in business doing what they love.
I’ve learned this the hard way — more than once. When my no wasn’t truly no, I said yes to things I shouldn’t have. And those yeses left me feeling embarrassed, like an imposter. I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t pull it off. The truth is, I didn’t have those specific skills — because they weren’t mine to have. I had other skills.
For over a decade, my day in and day out was stock photography. It’s a very specific skill set: controlled lighting, controlled subjects, a studio space I managed down to the tiniest detail. The same lenses. The same camera settings. The same environment that let me create consistent, intentional images that told stories without words.
These days, my response is well-rehearsed. I ask, Have you found someone? Do you like their work? Can you see that they’re good at what they do? I’ve never once heard “no.” When they say yes, I tell them — Hire them. I won’t be able to do what they do.
I know people are being kind. They want to support someone they know, to be helpful, to keep things within a circle of trust. I truly appreciate that. But unfortunately, no one wins in that situation. Not the client, and not the photographer who says yes to something they shouldn’t.
I’ve been asked to take wedding photos, family photos, engagement photos — and that brings me to my next point. With the rise of Pinterest and styled inspiration boards, a new kind of fantasy image has taken center stage. Layers of light, golden sunbeams, dreamy tones, and Photoshop magic have become the norm. And let me be clear: it’s stunning. It creates pure magic. The photographers who master this style are incredibly skilled. They’ve honed their craft. And naturally, people have come to expect these types of images.
I once had someone ask me to take photos, and I genuinely considered it — until they sent me their “sample” images. We’re talking full-blown Photoshop fantasy: filtered golden light, sparkling dust motes, smooth skin, silky hair. Again — I want to say this clearly — I love those images. They are art. They require talent. They are absolutely beautiful.
But I’m not that photographer. I cannot replicate that style.
And the good news? You don’t need me to. There is no shortage of talented people creating that kind of work. If you see someone’s images and they make your heart leap — hire them. Capture those memories the way you imagine them. And you’ll be so glad you did.
Let’s talk about price and cost — one of the hardest conversations in the creative world. Art has always lived in this strange category of being seen as “icing on the cake,” a luxury add-on. But here’s the problem with that: the person producing the art isn’t putting in any less time, talent, or heart simply because their work falls into that category.
I know several photographers who have stopped taking pictures altogether because they were exhausted by constantly defending their prices. And that breaks my heart.
I’ve found myself in that same position more times than I care to count. It’s part of the reason I left major international stock agencies and started my own site — at great personal expense. But I stood on principle.
When I began licensing stock photography, I was being paid a semi-fair price. It was still much less than I deserved, but I believed that the better I got and the more images I had selling, the more I’d be rewarded. Unfortunately, the stock world fell apart for artists. A major company shifted its pay scale drastically — there was an uproar, but it didn’t last. That same company began swallowing up other platforms, consolidating control.
I’ve since removed my work from most of those companies — except for the few where they’ve made the removal process nearly impossible to complete.
Every so often, I still get a notification from one of those companies — a royalty payment of seven cents. You cannot imagine the mix of feelings that stirs up. Their payout threshold is $50. At that rate, I won’t see a single dime until I’ve sold 7,142.86 times.
Let that settle for a moment.
Pay your photographer. Pay them what their work says about them — not what the industry has tried to convince you it's worth.