“When I showed [my] photograph to Bob Nadler . . . [h]e cut me short, saying ‘Nobody cares how hard you worked.’
“I've never forgotten that. It’s a really, really important lesson that all photographers should take to heart. If someone already likes your photograph, how hard you worked doesn't matter. If they don’t, telling them how hard you worked is not going to change their mind.”
Ctein
http://theonlinephotographer.typepad.com/the_online_photographer/2011/05/no-one-cares-how-hard-you-worked.htmlA recent front-page submission on this site seems to challenge this view, adding tedious detail in fleshing out the obstacles in obtaining the headline shot.
I propose that if you’re going to embellish a shot with a story, then get after it! Don’t hold back! If there was blood, sweat, and tears, put ‘em in there, by golly! Along with any other bodily fluids that may have been involved. If there was drama, don’t hold back!
Here’s a version that I think more befits the image:
Jesus, Mary and Joseph! My card showed two frames left, batteries empty, bladder full, about to make me soak through my Depends, and the perfect Mittens view was half a mile away. It was 102 in the shade and, well, ya know what? there wasn’t any.
The blister on my left big toe popped as I resolved to hobble the last 500 yards to the precise viewpoint I knew from vast experience, hard work and intense scouting. About 100 yards from the spot, the dysentery I’d been fighting for days kicked loose, running down my legs, soaking my socks.
I hadn’t had a drink in hours. Perversely, my feet squished and my throat chafed as I dragged my body the last few yards. Hundreds of miles from the nearest Coke machine, hands trembling, eyes glazing over, I set up my gear. I’d left the remote release attached, just in case. Pro’s do that, you know. Sun setting fast, no time to analyse exposure. I let experience take over as I made one superbly intuitive shot.
Suddenly, the light was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts to contemplate my greatness. I was humbled by the immensity of my achievement, the majesty of the scene, and my soggy pants.