Author: Leslie Burns

One of the things I am trying to do in my new, soon to launch, legal practice is to make the process of asking for help a little easier. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at tools to help that process. Like any business these days, there are a ton of tools available, so I’ve been doing lots of research to find ones that work, and then building systems, using those tools. Technology is pretty amazeballz these days for this stuff.

One of my favorites is a combination of Typeform and Zapier and my practice management app, Clio. This combo permits data to be transformed from the forms to Clio, where it then automatically generates tasks, etc., for me there. For example, someone fills out a Typeform form and, via this system, Clio checks to see if it is a new or existing client, creates a new contact if needed, and generates tasks and calendars them (like “Follow up with Bob Photo tomorrow”).

This all happens through the miracle of  Zapier (I’m sure it’s pronounced “zappier” but the single p means that a should be long…drives the linguist in me nuts) which, if you don’t know it, you should. Typeform too. These tools permit integration and automation of a lot of the tasks you need to do, especially for your marketing, without effort (after setting them up, that is).

Anyway, I thought I was being all clever in having online forms right there on my website, for people to fill out and submit (user-friendly). And I was and it would have been great, except…
…the trolls found me.

Since my practice doesn’t launch until July 1, every time a form has been submitted to date (except by me or friends testing it), it has been from some troll and filled with hateful vileness. I’ve been called a psychopath, no better than a “street mugger” (I’ve never mugged a street in my life, I swear!), a delusional piece of shit, and have been told I should die several forms of horrible death, just to name a few of the goodies. Sigh.

First thing I thought was “no good deed goes unpunished,” then I got to work looking for solutions.

I’ve fixed the system now, but unfortunately it means legitimate people in need of my help will have an extra step (email) to get the links to the forms. That is frustrating for me, since I really wanted it as simple and hoop-jumping-free as possible, but it seems that wherever there is new tech, there is a troll waiting to exploit it. I trust my (potential) clients will understand.

For the rest of you, I really encourage you to explore Zapier and Textform. I think they could be great for creative pros to use to automate some of the work you have to do but hate to do.

I’m not going to bury the lede: my new legal practice, Burns the Attorney, is launching July 1, 2016.

You can get more of the details by going to my practice’s site: burnstheattorney.com. There, you’ll find information about the kind of work I will be doing (much the same, but not entirely) and there will be longer format blog posts on legal issues there regularly. I’ve also launched a Facebook page and you can follow my tweets, too, for shorter form info, links, and the like.
(oh, and so the state bar is happy: yes, this is attorney advertising)

Anyway, the short answer is that my wonderful mentor, Carolyn E. Wright, is cutting back to spend more time with family. I wish her all the best and can never thank her enough for all she has done for me. She is wrapping up her practice and I am starting my own, so, over the next few months, I will be working two jobs in a way.

This is a ton of work, as I’m sure you all know. Setting up a new business means a thousand details and lots of money out (before hopefully getting money in–ha!), but it is exciting. I know I’m incredibly lucky to get to do what I love for people I want to serve. I have friends who have to drag themselves to their jobs every day–I don’t have that problem. I love what I do, even when it occasionally drives me a bit nuts. I also hope that I can work in more portfolio/website reviews and other non-legal consulting (I miss doing that) under the good ol’ Burns Auto Parts roof, but my focus remains on being the best lawyer I can be, for artists.

Please share my news, especially the links to the Burns the Attorney site/FB/Twitter, with all of your creative friends. I hope to work with artists of all kinds, not just photographers, so that more of you can get the help you need to protect your rights, your art, and to be successful in your creative businesses.

Every platform, content scraper, blog publisher, and even legitimate (formerly?) respectable publishers (I’m looking at you, National Geographic) out there sells creatives on the idea that if you share (I so loathe that word as it is used by those businesses) your work, the exposure will be great for your business.

The reality is, probably not. Here is one photographer’s story about a viral photo that got a ton of views and likes and shares and even press but, so far, no appreciable new business (note: he did book a couple of weddings, but that isn’t clearly because of the viral photo–maybe he would have booked ’em anyway at the show he mentions).

Now, maybe he could have used the viral exposure better (for example, connected it immediately to a sales promotion), but really, I’m not sure that would have made a major difference. People don’t impulse-buy photography. No one is likely to see the viral photo and say “I need to hire that photographer!” unless, maybe, s/he was already looking for a wedding photographer. Assignment/commissioned photography is still not a commodity, not a product on the shelf, so exposure like that may never pay off.

So, the photographer gets a brief hit of online fame, when his name is included (and it often isn’t), but no real financial benefit. He’s not suddenly booked up and the interest has already faded. In exchange, he has lost the ability to control the work (i.e., license it) and thus generate revenue from it.

However, I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that the viral photo has generated buckets of cash for the sites that have used it (eyeballs = advertising moolah) and will for as long as people will look.

Moral of the story: don’t give your work away; don’t share it and don’t let your clients share it, unless they pay for the privilege.

One of the most popular questions we copyright attorneys get asked is “What does the Copyright Office consider publication?” While each situation is fact-specific, there are a bunch of hypotheticals answered here on the Copyright Alliance website by the USCO’s Director of Registration Policy and Practices, no less!

There are a bunch of other copyright registration-related questions on that page, too. It’s a great resource.

I am a Prince fan. I’ve enjoyed his music since its first releases and his death last week hit me with the same kind of force I’m sure previous generations felt when, say, Elvis Presley died. But whether you are a fan or not, his death matters to you. Why? Copyrights.

Prince’s death should be a big reminder to all of you who create that your copyrights will outlive you and they are descendable. “Descendable” is legalese for it will pass to your heirs when you die and you can name who gets it. While no one likes to think about death, you should be thinking about who will get your copyrights when you die.

Just today, the New York Times and other media are reporting that Prince may have died without a will. The implication is that no one knows what will happen with his music. Now, the reality is not quite so dire. There are mechanisms in the law for when someone dies without a will (intestate, is the legalese) so it’s not like the work will suddenly go into the public domain or anything. The short answer is that, assuming there is no will, Prince’s estate will be split according to Minnesota law equally amongst his surviving full-sibling and half-siblings (they are treated equally in Minnesota), that is, his heirs. His copyrights are a part of his estate. Very likely, each copyright will now be jointly owned in equal measure by all the surviving heirs.

Will there be infighting amongst the heirs? Sadly, that is likely. People act like crazy folk when it comes to estates, whether they be small or, as in Prince’s case, very large. When there is no will, courts are left to impose the law without any guidance from the dead person as to what (s)he wanted, but heirs and potential heirs try to convince the court otherwise (“Grandfather promised me the classic car in his garage!”). Hopefully a will will be produced and it will be clear and well drafted, expressing the actual wishes of Prince and meting out all his property, both tangible and not, and thus making litigation down the line a little less likely (or at least less onerous for the court to sort out).

Each state has its own laws about who gets what when someone dies intestate. Generally speaking, usually property (including intellectual property like copyrights) will go to kids (usually called, in the law, issue, which makes the 12-year-old in me crack up), if there are any, or to parents or siblings if not. If you live in a community property state, then your spouse may automatically get your property, or at least the property created while you were spouses. It can get pretty complex (especially here in California where, for any copyrights you create while married, your spouse already owns a half interest and has since the moment of the work’s creation!). But you have control of what you own–just get a proper will.

I read an article recently that said Robert Mapplethorpe gave his brother his cameras in his will. That is called a specific gift (anything you leave to someone in a will is called a gift)and you can do that with things (like your equipment) or any/all of your copyrights. You can get into meticulous detail about who gets what, if you choose, or you can make it much more general like “Bob Smith gets my entire estate.”

But you have to do it. That is, you have to have a will. You have to take the time to name who gets what.

This is important. Your copyrights have value and you should seriously consider who will get them (or parts of them) when you die. Maybe you shoot fetish work but your family are mostly highly religious–do you want them to own and control your art when you are gone?! They could, completely legally, destroy it all. Or your bother with the gambling problem could sell his share to Jimmy the Loanshark. Or your spouse, from whom you have been separated but just haven’t bothered to actually divorce, gets it all. If you don’t take the time to draft a will now, your wishes for your art will die with you.

That may have happened with Prince. Don’t let it happen to you.

Do you sell your work? When you talk about your work, do you say, “I sold this photo for $2500 to Client X, for use on its website” or similar? Even more importantly, does your paperwork clearly state, for every transaction, that specific rights to use the work are licensed to your client or do you just say “Creative Fee = $2500” and list “usage” someplace? Or, worse of all, do you ever say an invoice is for a “buyout” of the work?

Well, stop that. I mean, stop selling your work.

If you aren’t making it clear that you are licensing your rights rather than selling your photography, I think a smart copyright defense lawyer could argue that an affirmative defense called the first sale doctrine applies if your client later resells or otherwise distributes your work beyond the scope of the license you thought you granted. That defense could gut your case.

This morning, I was reading up on recent cases in copyright when I came across this article. On first glance, it doesn’t seem like it really has anything to do with how you run your business and copyright law, but I think it may. The short version of the case discussed in the article is that Adobe sued someone who bought copies of Photoshop which it later resold (against Adobe’s usual terms); that would have been a clear case of infringement, except that Adobe hadn’t clearly stated that the defendant originally licensed the software from Adobe (even though Adobe always licenses rather than sells its software) so the purported infringer was protected by the first sale defense when he resold the software.

In the case itself (yes, I read the opinion), the court notes, “In digital copyright cases, the distinction between a “sale” and a “license” has become central.” (p. 11) and later explains:

To determine whether there is a legitimate license, we examine whether “the copyright owner (1) specifies that the user is granted a license; (2) significantly restricts the user’s ability to transfer the software; and (3) imposes notable use restrictions.”

(p. 13, internal citation omitted). Finally, the court emphasizes that “the precise terms of any agreement matter as to whether it is an agreement to license or to sell; the title of the agreement is not dispositive.” (p. 18, italics added).

This isn’t a slam-dunk defense against copyright infringement of a visual art like photography. There are differences in the cases (software isn’t photography, for example), but the analogy is worrisome. If you just substitute the word “photograph” where it reads “software,” you can see that the rest fits.

I think this case should, for your business, serve to remind you of the importance of making it clear that you are licensing rights, not selling photography (or any visual art). In other words, in your paperwork to your clients, make sure to avoid words like selling, sold, buying, or buyout and make sure to use terms like licensing the rights to reproduce, non-exclusive license to display, or non-transferrable unlimited license to copy and display. I’d make it clear on all documents, especially your estimates and invoices, that the usage rights granted under this license are limited to (fill in the usage here).

Drafting a license isn’t hard, but you do need to make it clear that you are only selling the limited license, and not your work. Later on, a clear license can help prevent an infringer from even trying to raise the first sale defense, saving you and your attorney (and the court) headaches, time, and money.