Submission to Focus Quarterly

Thinking about making a submission to Focus Quarterly? There is often a hesitation when it comes to writing about photographs.

For many, the work feels complete in the image itself—resolved in tone, form, and atmosphere. To then translate that into words can feel like a second act entirely, one that sits slightly outside the comfort of the practice. And yet, what we’re really asking for is not explanation. It’s something closer to presence.

Raining

When we look at a body of work, we’re not only encountering what is visible, but also what sits behind it—the decisions, the hesitations, the influences, the quiet turns that shaped its direction. Writing, in this sense, is simply another way of allowing that to surface.

It doesn’t need to be formal, and it doesn’t need to be exhaustive. In fact, the most engaging pieces are often those that feel closest to a conversation—something considered, but unforced.

A few honest reflections will always carry more weight than a perfectly structured statement.

You might find yourself returning to the beginning: where the work first took hold, and why it stayed with you. Or perhaps to the moments where things didn’t quite align, and what shifted as a result. Sometimes it’s in the editing—deciding what remains and what falls away—that the work becomes clear, even to yourself.

There’s also value in acknowledging what sits around the edges. The artists you return to, the ideas that linger, the materials or processes that continue to draw you in. These are not distractions from the work—they are part of its fabric.

And importantly, you don’t need to resolve everything. Not every series arrives with a fixed conclusion. Leaving space for uncertainty, or for the work to continue evolving, is just as meaningful as presenting something fully formed. What matters most is that the writing feels yours.

Not written to impress, or to fit a particular mould, but to offer a way in—for the reader to spend a little more time with the work, and perhaps to see it from a slightly different vantage point.

In the context of the journal, these written pieces sit alongside the images as part of a broader conversation. They don’t explain the work so much as extend it.

The writing also doesn’t need to arrive in a finished or “perfect” state. As part of the editorial process, we may gently shape or refine the text for clarity and flow—but always with a light touch, and always in keeping with your voice.

You will, of course, have the opportunity to review anything before publication, and to make changes where something doesn’t feel quite right. The intention is never to overwrite, but to support the work in finding its clearest expression on the page.

And so, if there’s a single thought to hold onto, it’s this: write as you would speak about the work to a friend—with clarity, with honesty, and without too much concern for getting it “right”.

We’ll meet you there.