There is a mystical land just beyond the copy desk, hidden away and kept secret. It is said that great sorcerers work there, day in and day out. All who enter their domain fear them. They are the photo editors, and you shall bow before their power.
Seriously though, working with photo editors is like being across the table from the best card player in the world. What the hell are they thinking? Do they… Do they know I’m in the room? Quite possibly even worse than the verbal lashing that can be doled out so easily by an editor is their second choice of communication: silence. If your photo editor has gotten two-thirds of the way through your take and hasn’t spoken a word to you yet, it’s probably best that you step out of the room. Don’t linger and make awkward small talk. AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT.
These Shaman of the newsroom always manage to find your best image even if you didn’t see it. They’re the ones who tell you to quit your bitching and reshoot the assignment you so clearly half-assed. Without a photo editor, publications would be ass-to-ankles in Instagram photos (of whatever bullshit it is Instagrammers take photos of) and 20 different varieties of sports-resembling blur. And cat photos. Don’t forget the cat photos.
Also, the ever-elusive silent nod of approval? That’s like getting a fucking gold star from that teacher who hated you in elementary school.
So the next time you’re in the newsroom, thank your photo editor… Just don’t touch them and don’t turn your back as you leave the room.