I recently returned from a scouting trip to Patagonia. I’m slated to teach a workshop in Chile early next year, and Patagonia is one of those places I needed to see and experience before I asked students to join me. 

Because my trip was a scouting trip, a voyage designed to show students what they might encounter over a ten-day workshop, I photographed a wide range of topics, places, people, and cultural aspects of the region. And I needed the book to show much of what I encountered. 

I had my goal, my intended audience, and the time I normally don’t have. 

Unlike most of my trips, when teaching is the primary goal, this time around, all I had to do was explore and photograph. I made a total of 1,659 images. My first edit reduced the number to 300. The second edit brought the number to 108. The final book contained 50 pictures, which, for me, is as high as I would ever want to go.

The edit

Editing the work is just as important as making it. We live in an age when the population fights for undivided attention, so culling your work is critical because you are only going to get brief opportunities to tell your story. Only the absolute best work makes the final cut.  

My edit was tight. By my calculations, I kept three percent of my overall images. This is normal, and this is how editing is done. 

If I were making a portfolio or an essay from this trip, I’d say I kept too many photos. But my goal was not to show off my photography; it was to show a range of experience.  

The sequence

Next up was my sequence, or which images come first to last, including the cover. 

The cover needed to be simple, graphic, and bold. I knew the images I made while standing on a glacier would work. There was also an abstract element at play, something I’ve found works well on a cover. 

My sequence could be described as a roller coaster. I want to start and end strong. 

Remember, much of the world is right-handed, so they often open your beloved book from the back, so ending strong is essential.  

The format

When it came time to choose the style of book I wanted, I thought about budget and impact. I knew I wanted at least two different books, one hardcover, one softcover, so my budget needed to cover both. (As an example, I made six sample books after my Morocco trip.)  

As for impact, I was looking at something strong but nothing too extravagant, and I wanted something small enough to fit in my backpack. The 10×8 or 8×10 is a perfect balance of real estate versus cost. With the same idea in mind, I chose Premium Lustre paper, an offering I absolutely love as it shows off both color and monochrome work so well.  

The design

Designing the book was effortless because it was simply about getting out of the way of the work. The images were telling the story for me. I did add text, journal entries mostly, because they tell a personal story unique to me. 

I prefer simple, clean spreads, so much of the book shows single images per page while also utilizing ample white space. 

Working this way allowed me to make a 100-page book. This is important because the book needs to look and feel right. There must be a balance between the weight of the cover and the number of pages. 

Start with the end

The moral here is that I had a goal, and I worked backward to create the objects that best suited it. I needed to help potential workshop students see what they might encounter touring the wilds of Chilean Patagonia. That single idea informed my edit, sequence, and design.

One last thing: I did not wait to make these books. I came home, and I had my images ready to go. 

Procrastination doesn’t help. You want to hit print while the emotion of the work is still burning bright.  

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Dan Milnor is Blurb’s creative ambassador. He shares photography, marketing, and self-publishing advice monthly. Register for free to get his insights straight to your inbox.