Paying the press is only one side of the coin. Acquiring publication-quality images, and the permission to publish them, is a tedious and nerve-wrecking process. It has taken half a year of my life and on occasion almost drove me insane. Had I been closer to tenure review, I would have started screaming. For example, I contacted an Italian museum for a reproduction of a rhinoceros painting on repeated occasions, both via email and through their online form. I then waited for over three months for a response, which asked over 100 euros for the photograph. I balked at the amount and explained that I thought it was a bit too expensive.Another three months later, the museum emailed me again, asking whether my order was still active, acting as if they had never received my earlier response. As a result, you will not find this rhinoceros in my book. And, with hindsight, the delays and the price were not so outrageous. A British museum once told an art historian friend that her request for a photograph would be processed in one year. Another friend was quoted 500 euros from an Eastern European museum for a reproduction of a painting, but then was able to bargain the price down to a hundred euros. A third friend was so incensed by an Austrian institution’s imaging policies that she copied a sixteenth-century woodcut by hand. The book was already in press when her situation became resolved, and she could substitute her drawing with a proper photograph.