I didn’t know what f-stops or shutter speeds were. I just wanted a camera. I didn’t even have a business in mind at the time; I just wanted to take good photos.

I have a history of high hopes and failed dreams. Here is a great example: Several years ago, I had my hopes set on a violin. I had heard that pianists often chose violin as their second instrument because it’s the easiest switch. Since piano had come to me very naturally and I had taught myself guitar in 5th or 6th grade, I thought I’d be able to pick up the violin the same way and suddenly know how to play.

Not so.

Kevin surprised me with a beautiful violin for Christmas in 2007. I got books from the library. I rosined the bow. I watched youtube videos about proper posture. It was impossible. I couldn’t make that violin work. For 3 years now, it has been sitting in its case collecting dust.

When I told Kevin I wanted a camera, you can imagine what he said. “Is this going to be another violin?” It’s not like he didn’t want to believe in me, but we don’t have money to throw away and cameras are not cheap…and I have a track record. I convinced him this would be different and I was like a kid on Christmas when my camera came in the mail. I took it out to the reservoir that afternoon and started shooting pictures, not having a clue how to run the camera other than figuring out the power switch.

To be fair, the first image was lucky. This was what most of them looked like.

While I started learning about composition and manual settings, Kevin started emailing me links about settings and exposures. I began wanting more things: a new lens, a camera bag, a battery grip. I may have, at some point, thought that if I could start photographing for other people, I could use that money to buy additional camera gear, but still did not have a business plan in mind at all.

Then I got a facebook message. It was from a friend of a mutual friend who was getting married. She had seen my album of nature photos and wondered if I would be interested in photographing her wedding. I was like, “Um…I don’t know. I’ve never done that.” Looking back, I was a mess. I hadn’t played around with any flash so I was panicked at the thought of shooting indoors. I didn’t know what an appropriate price would be to charge. I didn’t have a contract. I didn’t have a tax ID number. I didn’t have anything. I was a girl with a camera and that was all.

I told the bride that I would look into it and get back to her. I started a flurry of research, ordered photography books, guessed at a fee, opened a business account at the bank, got a tax ID number, made business cards, got a wedding contract written up, and then contacted the bride. I was still so uncertain of myself that I told her that while I would love to shoot her wedding, I wasn’t sure about the lighting inside the church so she should check around first. I basically told her not to hire me. Yes, great business sense right there.

She didn’t hire me. Big surprise. The groom had a cousin who liked to take pictures who agreed to shoot for them. Yet I wouldn’t change how that happened because I realized several things from that experience:

1. If a family member, a guest, was comfortable enough to shoot a wedding, I had a long ways to go with this business that I had just set up.
2. I needed to learn about indoor lighting and photography in low-lit areas.
3. I needed to become confident in myself. If I didn’t believe in myself, no one would, especially potential clients.
4. Now that I had my basic business set up, I needed to plan where I was going to go with it.
5. Ultimately, I loved taking photos and now that I had been pushed into honestly think about pursuing it, I really wanted to pursue it.

Somewhere around this time, after I had set up my tax ID number, I decided if I was official with the government, I could become official on facebook. So I set up a facebook page for Emily Crall Photography. Perhaps it was coincidental, but very shortly, within a day, after setting that up, a status appeared on my facebook feed from an acquaintance who said, “Having a camera and a facebook page makes you as much a photographer as a having a plane makes you a pilot.” Maybe it was coincidental, maybe the person wasn’t talking about me, maybe… But it hurt. It didn’t feel coincidental; it didn’t feel unintentional. I remember crying in my car and saying, “I just wish someone would give me a chance!”

As I dug through my emotions to process the hurt and insecurity I had, I used vulnerability as fueled motivation. I wasn’t going to own a plane and not be able to fly it. I was going to give myself a chance, even if others wouldn’t.

My first year of business, I worked hard and undercharged. I kept learning. I figured out the ropes. I did the awful, rookie mistake of thinking other photographers were my competition instead of my colleagues. I slowly figured that out and started to follow other photographer’s blogs, look at their compositions and lighting, learn from them, comment on their photos, interact with the photography community. I started making friends with other photographers in the area. And slowly, slowly things started to come together.

I figured out that a photography business is roughly 80% business and only 20% photography. I figured out that if I wanted to be a successful photographer, I had to first become business savvy. I started making goals for myself. I researched lenses and equipment. I made lists of things I wanted or needed and made deals with myself that if I booked x-amount of shoots, I could invest in a new software or a better lens or whatever it was that I was working towards at the time. I started taking online courses at places like CreativeLIVE and became a PPI member (yes, you can find me here) and went to the winter convention, where I learned perhaps my most important business knowledge yet: I can’t and won’t base my business strategies strictly on other photographer’s business strategies. Why? Because every photographer runs their business differently! I will learn to take and leave. They are successful in their own ways and none of them do it the same!

I am my own person; I have my own style; I have my own personality; I have my own look. I want to be like so many other photographers and I look at their photos and say, “I want to shoot that”, but that is not what artistry is. Artistry is about being unique and creative. Every photographer runs their business differently, shoots differently, prices differently, edits differently. That it what makes photographers so individual. Yes, I listen to advice and take notes and I ask questions. But at the end of the day, I sort through my notes and thoughts and figure out what, out of all of the contradicting advice everyone gives, is going to make me successful and happy and able to give my clients the best service I possibly can.

I’ll never stop learning; the day I know it all just won’t happen. I won’t claim to have answers; I will only claim to know what works for me. And even that I’m still figuring out along the way.

Photographers are a group of artists capturing memories for our clients. We work hard, we work long hours, and we struggle sometimes. But we are solely committed to doing our very best every time we click the shutter. We do what we do because we love what we do.

Starting out and building up is hard work. Achieving goals is really rewarding. Making friends along the way, both with clients and other photographers, is priceless. Keeping my head up and staying positive isn’t always easy. But in the end of the day, the butterflies I get right before a wedding, the exhaustion I feel afterwards, and the overwhelming happiness when I see what I’ve been able to capture is a culmination of the best theme park ride ever. When it comes to a stop, I shout, “Let’s do that again!” Because it’s just that great.

There’s no other way to describe it: I do this because I love this.