Prep Is on the Invoice

There’s a word that shows up in almost every project. It sneaks in quietly. It seems harmless. But it is not harmless.

And when it comes to a food photography production fee, that one little word can make a big difference.

That word is: 

Just. 

Can you just swing by? What about just doing a quick test? Maybe just photograph a few ingredients? Can you hop on a call for just a few minutes? The shoot is just three hours. We just need X amount of shots. 

But we all know “just” is never JUST. 

Just turns into an extra hour on set. 

Just turns into an extra hour on set.

Just turns into five extra frames.

Just turns into a rush delivery.

Just turns your whole world topsy-turvy.

And most of all, “just” never gets billed for the time and resources it sucks up.

The Line Item That Confuses Clients 

When I’m producing a shoot, my quote has two separate lines: a creative fee and a production fee. 

Sometimes, clients see that production line and get confused. They think it’s my day rate. Other times, they think it’s the same thing, listed twice.

It isn’t. 

The creative fee is my day rate. Basically, it’s what I charge to actually click the button and put everything we planned into action.

Meanwhile, the production fee covers everything that makes the click possible.

Some photographers lump it all into one line. I don’t. The last thing I want is a client thinking those two fees are interchangeable. Because they aren’t.

What Happens Before the Click 

From the outside, however, a shoot looks like this: on shoot day, I magically show up with a camera and a plan. Click. Done. 

But from where I’m standing, it looks like this: 

● Building the shot list 

● Emailing and calling the client 

● Building the moodboard and treatment 

● Locking in the studio location 

● Drafting the invoice and contract 

● Sourcing props and surfaces (if we don’t book a prop stylist) 

● Wrangling crew, schedules, and logistics 

● Typing up the shoot schedule and shot list, then sending them to client and crew ● Ordering food for the crew and client 

● Packing up roughly a small apartment’s worth of gear 

● Unloading said small apartment’s worth of gear into the studio 

● Prepping the set before anyone walks in 

● Packing said small apartment’s worth of gear BACK into the car 

● Cleaning the space, so it looks like we were never there 

● Unloading said small apartment’s worth of gear into my house 

● Returning said small apartment’s worth of gear to storage. Finally. 

Before photography, I came up in theater as a stage manager. Nobody in the audience sees the tape marks on the floor, the prop table, or the cue sheet. Behind the scenes, there are months of rehearsals and countless redos. But the audience never sees any of that.

And they definitely don’t see HELL WEEK. That’s tech week, the final stretch before opening, when lights, sound, costumes, and sets all get added at once. You basically live at the theater. Ten, twelve hours a day. 

They just see the show. 

Food photography is the same show. Different stage. Same show. 

Why a Food Photography Production Fee Gets Its Own Line

Occasionally, a client sees that line and gets it right away. Most times they don’t. 

Either way, I explain it. Sooo much goes into a shoot BEFORE the click. And sooo much more happens AFTER. 

That’s billable time. It’s not a creative fee. It’s production.

The Camera Is the Last 10 Percent 

Honestly? Pressing the shutter is the smallest part of my day. 

So when someone asks me just to do a little prep for free, here’s what I hear: Can you do the other 90 percent for nothing? 

No. I can’t. 

Actually, no. I won’t. 

Not for free. 

Mica McCook is a playwright-turned-commercial food photographer from Austin, Texas, and she’s a lot like her photos: bold, dramatic, and a little theatrical. Got a project you want to book her for? Reach out for availability.