Come home with a story, not a camera roll

A trip produces hundreds of photos and, often, very little story. Back home, the camera roll is full of landmarks and empty of the moments that made the trip feel like yours.

This is how the two pictures sit together on one spread.

Why it works

Think of each day as a short chapter. A beginning, something in the middle, and an ending.

The people you travelled with matter more than the places. Make sure they are in the pictures.

• Pick a fixed day each month
• Write a few words beside the best ones
• Star photos as you take them

Keep it simple

Print sizes matter less than you think. A small photo surrounded by white space can feel more special than one stretched to fill the page.

When a month has a big event in it, such as a wedding or a first day at school, let it take over. There is no rule that says every week needs equal space. The book should feel like the month felt.

I thought I needed a better camera. I needed a better window.

Tom Okafor, Paperleaf

Try it this month

Be generous on the first pass. You are not deciding what goes in the book yet, only what is definitely out.

If a month feels thin, look again at the photos you took without thinking. The best ones are often hiding there.

Good to know: every Paperleaf book has room for thirty photos, so there is no prize for keeping more.

A few small rules

Faces matter, but so do places. Include at least one picture of the room, the street or the view where the month happened.

Most people find the first month the hardest. You are learning what you like, and every photo feels important. By the third month you will notice yourself moving faster, trusting your first reaction and spending your time on the handful of close calls instead of on every single picture.

• Write a few words beside the best ones
• Star photos as you take them
• Include at least one place, not just faces

What to look for

A good caption answers the question someone will ask in twenty years. Who is that? Where were we? Why is everyone wet? Write the answer while you still know it, even if it feels too obvious to bother with today.

Try to include everyone. It is easy to end up with a book full of the children and none of the person holding the camera.

We don’t take more photos than we used to. We just look at them now.

Ana, a reader since the first year

What we got wrong

Keep the phone charged and the lens clean on days you expect to matter. It sounds small, but a flat battery or a smudged lens has cost more good pictures than any missing piece of equipment.

Back up before you delete anything. It takes a minute and removes the fear that stops people from clearing out at all.

Reader tip: one family keeps a paper list on the fridge of moments they want in the next book.

One more thing

Ask someone else to look at your shortlist. They will spot the photo you were about to drop and the one you only kept out of habit.

Watch the light at different times of day in your own home. Most houses have one window that is lovely for an hour every afternoon.

• Pick a fixed day each month
• Write a few words beside the best ones
• Keep one photo per day at most

Make it a habit

Keep the rejected photos somewhere safe for a while. Tastes change, and a picture you passed over may be the one you want next year.

Think about how the photos sit next to each other. Two busy pictures side by side can fight; a busy one beside a quiet one usually works.

Picking is a skill. Like any skill, it gets faster.

Priya Nair, Paperleaf print room

When to stop

Leave a little space. Not every page needs to be full, and an empty corner gives the eye somewhere to rest.

Do not wait for a special occasion. The ordinary weeks are the ones people forget, and the ones they most want to see again.

Before you start: make sure your phone is backed up. Deleting is easier when nothing can be lost.

Start with what you already have

Make a cup of tea, sit somewhere comfortable and put the phone on do-not-disturb. The job goes faster when it does not compete with messages.

Take one photo before the moment and one after. The before and after often say more than the moment itself.

• Hand the camera to someone else
• Back up before deleting anything
• Keep one photo per day at most

Why it works

Keep a note of what happened that month as you go. A few words beside a photo are worth far more than you expect a year later.

Write the year on the spine. It sounds obvious, but without it a shelf of books quickly becomes a puzzle.

The book comes, and for one evening nobody looks at their phone.

Marcus, father of three

Keep it simple

It helps to know what the book is for before you start. A book for grandparents wants faces and clear captions. A book for yourself can hold the odd corner of the garden, the shadow on the wall and the plate of food that only makes sense to you.

If you miss a month, do not try to catch up all at once. Start again with this month and fill the gap later if you feel like it.

Good to know: every Paperleaf book has room for thirty photos, so there is no prize for keeping more.

Try it this month

Hand the phone to someone else at least once a month. It is the only way the photographer gets into the book.

Do not forget the in-between moments: the car park before the party, the coats piled on a chair, the walk home in the dark. They are the parts of a day that nobody photographs on purpose and everybody recognises straight away.

• Leave the cover for last
• Hand the camera to someone else
• Star photos as you take them

A few small rules

If you have too many photos of one day, that day probably mattered. Give it a spread of its own rather than cutting it down to one.

Try not to edit every photo. A little brightening is fine, but heavy filters date quickly and make a year of books look uneven when they sit together on a shelf. Let the light of the day show.

My mum reads the captions more than she looks at the pictures.

Leila, who writes every caption by hand

What to look for

If you share a camera roll with someone, agree on who picks which month. Taking turns means each book has a slightly different point of view, and nobody ends up doing all of the work every time.