#my frustration with some book prize winners got the best of me for a moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

philosophika · 1 year ago

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I'm jumping on the bandwagon to say that while I agree with a lot of what you're saying, @inkovert, my overall position towards the book-to-screen pipeline is slightly more... positive? Optimistic? I don't know if those are the right words, but the fact is that I'm writing The Sorcerer's Apprentice with the hope that it might one day be made into a 2D animated film. To explain why, I'd like to try to address some of the very sound observations you made in your post, starting with those we agree on.

✦ The Problem With The Book-To Screen Pipeline

In my opinion, the primary problem facing the book-to-screen pipeline is not so much the pipeline itself but, as @inkovert mentioned in their post, that the film industry's promise of revenue and attention potentially encourages writers to undermine and neglect exploring the strengths of their own medium to try to better fit the demands of the silver screen. Although I (luckily) haven't come across any novels that succumb to this temptation in the way @inkovert describes (dressing down the writing to some mediocre mid-point between a badly written novel and an even worse screen-play), I recognize the potential threat it poses to the health of our beloved literary ecosystem. For me, the most concerning manifestation of this threat takes a slightly different shape from the one that @inkovert describes above. I'm not concerned that novels which resort to stage-direction style writing (to win over the movie industry) will take over the market because I'm sceptical of their appeal to publishing houses, film studios, readers and movie-goers alike. After all, unless those books are being written by established authors who'll bring in profits regardless of the quality of their output, how likely are they to be published in the first place? My personal hunch is: not likely at all. What does worry me is that film's dominance is encouraging writers to create storylines that cater to Hollywood's limited standards of entertainment and depth and, therefore, that it is encouraging writers to forgo experimenting with the form they have at their fingertips, to avoid breaking with narrative conventions, and to bypass what the literary genre does best: introspection. That said, Hollywood isn't entirely to blame for this; the publishing industry's self-evident preference for easily palatable, cookie-cutter, market-ready narratives makes them just as guilty for thinning the creative horizon as the movie moguls. This brings us to what I believe is the crux of the matter. The problem isn't that books are being made into movies, the problem is that the big storytelling industries are chasing the same goal: maximum profit at minimum risk. Good old capitalism strikes again! If it weren't for you meddling kids, amiright? But, seriously, you want profits? Never deviate from the three-act structure, never create an unlikeable main character, and for god's sake, don't try to critically address real-world problems and/or prejudices in any way that deviates or complicates the accepted narrative -actually, scratch that, don't write about real-world problems at all! Don't make your readers uncomfortable. We're all here to have a good time. Just try to keep it Kendall-Jenner-Pepsi lite™, okay? OKAY?? Give me a fucking break, lol. If the problem feeding this trend is money, the answer is: read better. Buy outside of your comfort zone. Take more risks as a writer and a reader and a viewer. Try things that push against industry standards. Don't always go for the book or the movie that fits all your favourite TV tropes. And, yes, of course, overthrow capitalism, but let's be real, who has the time? The problem with the book-to-screen pipeline is that we are the problem.

✦ Damn... so why are you looking forward to having your book potentially being made into a film? Doesn't that, like, go against everything you just said?

Nope, I don't think so. I mean, I would love for my book to be made into a film, but will it? Doubtful for all the above reasons (maximum profit, minimum risk). As for why I'm still saying I'd love for that to happen: again, as @inkovert very eloquently wrote in their post, literature and film have different strengths. Literature, as I touched upon in the previous section, is fundamentally an introspective medium, one that permits the reader total access to another (fictional) person's inner world and, in turn, allows the reader to experience how it determines their perception of the outer world. To paraphrase Gotham Writers, literature's strength is that it tells the outward story from the inside, that is to say, "inside-out" (Source). Film, as @inkovert pointed out, is a visual (nowadays, primarily an audio-visual) medium. Its strength is that it tells the story from the "outside-in" (Source). It employs atmosphere, rhythm, symmetry & dissymmetry, colour, light & shadow, shape, movement, costume design, music, and more, to reveal the inner workings of character and plot. Because I'm writing literature, I'm limited by the strengths of that medium. Meaning, there are just some things I can't do as well as I'd be able to do if I were working with film. For example, I can't spend a paragraph describing every detail of an outfit that has no real bearing on the plot because I risk ruining the pace and boring my reader; but if I were shooting a film, I could show the main character's evolution through the costume design. In fact, I would need to, for the film to be worth its salt visually. The same goes for music. All those playlists people on Writeblr keep making? Those have a place in film. So, why do I want my book to be made into a movie? Because I can't do my story justice in one medium alone. It's not complete without translation. Is yours?

Thank you, again @inkovert! I'm looking forward to participating in more Spilled Ink Saturdays <3

✦ P.S. I reserve the right to disagree with everything I just said should someone come up to me with a more convincing take or just proves me wrong, which happens a lot more than I'd like to admit. Also, if you got through that mammoth of a post, thank you and my apologies :)

SPILLED INK SATURDAY 》 Writeblr Discourse Series

Session 1: Book-to-Screen Adaptations

Welcome to our first session of Spilled Ink (get it? like spilled tea?), a new writeblr discourse series that I'm excited to introduce into the community. I wanted to start this series to generate some discussion and camaraderie within the writeblr community, but also because I think there are a lot of writer/reader/author-related topics and debates that crop up pretty frequently and I figured it would be interesting to hear thoughts and opinions on these matters from a writer's perspective.

So every Saturday (or potentially every other Saturday depending on how things go), I will post a topic of discussion. If you would like to participate in the discussion, you can do so one of two ways:

➸ Return to the OG post (which will always be linked in the title of the post) and reblog with your take on the topic, either in text or in the tags

➸ If you see someone's take on your feed and you want to chime in on something they said, feel free to reblog their response

I want to stress that the purpose of this series is to have healthy, open-minded dialogue about these topics and hear perspectives that you may not have considered otherwise. I think one of the beautiful things about writeblr is that it's rich with people from a diverse set of backgrounds and experiences who can lend a wider perspective on the subjects discussed. That said, I'm asking that everyone who chooses to participate please be respectful when providing your opinion or when responding to someone else's. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, no matter how strong it is, but there's a difference between being opinionated and being borderline rude and antagonizing. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia or hateful speech of any kind will not be condoned or tolerated. I want to set that bar straight now because future sessions will touch on topics such as race and sexuality, so I will always have this reminder at the top of the post for each session. I truly want this to be a safe space for people to share their thoughts freely and not be afraid to speak up, so just please be mindful of your words in your responses.

With that out of the way, the discourse question for our first session is:

How do you feel about the frequency with which books are adapted to movies/tv shows these days?

You know what I mean. When you open any social media platform these days and you're immediately bombarded with ads for the latest tv show or movie being released on Hulu or Paramount+. I've often wondered if writers or up-and-coming authors have any personal feelings about this. Do you find it exciting? Does it make you hopeful that your work could one day be on the big screen? Or is it a bit...irksome? Or are you completely indifferent?

Reblog and share your thoughts. Mine will be under the cut, below. 👇🏾

・❥・

I know it may seem like something absolutely trivial and harmless to some, so perfectly understandable if people are indifferent about it all. But I personally find it irksome.

I could be wrong about the increased frequency of book-to-screen adaptations compared to 10 years prior, but for me personally it feels like it's increased quite a lot. I feel like I'll see a book hyped by booktok and/or other online book communities all over my social media feed one minute, and the next minute it's announced that it's headed for the big screen. And for the author's in question, I'm sure it's thrilling, because it provides the exposure that authors need nowadays to sell their books and their brand. But it bothers me because...well, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, it makes it more and more evident that the movie/tv industry is running out of ideas. How often do we hear about some 90s/00s TV show being rebooted for god-knows-why when no one asked for it? It's not a secret that the entertainment industry is running on fumes when it comes to generating original ideas for the screen. And the same way that reboots are a lazy way of pumping out entertainment for a consumerist audience, outsourcing ideas from authors because you can't think of your own is also just that - lazy. And the consequence of that, I feel, is that authors will begin to write stories with the intention that it will be visually consumed, thereby feeding into that book-to-screen pipeline.

I recently read a book from a sci-fi author whose novels I really enjoyed in the past, but with each new release of his the quality of his books decreased just a bit. And with the latest book of his I read, it was easy to pinpoint why. It was clear as day that he had written the book with the idea/intention that it would be put on the screen. I don't know how to quite describe it, but it felt like I was reading a screenplay, with certain storytelling elements ignored and with action scenes written like cue cards for an actor. It was like a slapdash job with the note "fix it in post" slapped onto it. And it was just so...disappointing. Not only as a reader, but as a writer. Writers are free to write screenplays, but they are considered screenwriters, not authors, and the craft that is required for each medium is a bit different. Neither is superior to the other, but there's a depth that goes into writing a novel or short story that isn't necessarily needed for a screenplay because the screenwriter will work in collaboration with the director and others to carry out the vision (I'm happy to have screenwriters on writeblr chime in on whether this is true, because I'm speaking off my own understanding, not known experiences). The end product of a screenplay is a visual. Whereas the end product for a novel is the novel itself, and how it stimulates the readers imagination. If we get more novels written with the intention of being translated to a visual medium, then all the typically necessary components like description, exposition etc no longer become necessary. I'm not saying that this is happening just yet. There are many quality novels that have received screen adaptations recently (Pachinko, A Man Called Ove etc), but luckily those authors were dedicated to the craft of writing and storytelling first. The movie and tv deals were an added bonus that came after. But what happens when you have an emergence of authors who have those priorities in reverse? Movie deal first to increase my exposure and worry about good storytelling second? It inevitably causes a change in the writing landscape (that I argue is already happening (see: future discourse session), and not necessarily for the better.

#Thank you @Inkovert for starting this fantastic discussion series!!#I love it #Because I'm a slow thinker I'm probably going to need a week (or two) per question #In other words #at the very least I'll always be one week behind #most probably two weeks behind #Spilled Ink Saturday #Writeblr #writeblr community #wtw #wtw community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #Edited to remove rant section #my frustration with some book prize winners got the best of me for a moment #Also edited to add missing source link #Edited to add P.S. Note #Edited introduction

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verai-marcel · 4 years ago

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This Is Perfection (RDR2 Fanfic, Javier x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+)

This is part of the series Ride Through My Heart. Read the other parts here.

Summary: You are an intern at a photography studio, and lately you've been crushing on the male model that works with your boss. Javier is sex on legs and your eyes are drawn to him every time he's near. On top of his looks, he's also kind and funny, which made you doubly fall for him. Little did you know, he's had his eye on you too, for he knows your secret identity: a semi-popular cosplayer on the convention circuit.

Author’s Notes: Trying another Javier x F!Reader fic because he deserves love too. The title of this fic is yet another obscure lyric from a popular song, so try and guess! Also I’m not in the photography or modelling industry, so most of that stuff is just conjecture and internet research.

Tags: fluff, romance, gentle to passionate to rough sex, mild dirty talk, neck grabbing (but no choking), some use of a different language

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4457

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“See you next week, Javier.”

“Later Charles,” Javier threw over his shoulder as he left Charles’ cat café. He finished his latte, jaywalking across the two lane road to get to his bike. Bright red, his Ducati Streetfighter was his prized possession, his baby, his joy. When he wasn’t working, he loved to take his motorcycle to the nearby lake and ride around the backroads, enjoying the scenery.

But lately, he had no excuse to go out. He felt he had overbooked himself this month, running from one photo shoot to another. He had to sleep, had to eat properly and work out so that he looked his best, and that cut out practically all of his free time. Feeling the stress steadily creep up his spine and into his brain, his only breaks were his weekly meetings with his friends, which he could count as business since he was their marketing manager. Self-appointed, of course.

He only left Sunday for himself, which he had been using for personal and wardrobe maintenance. Javier was nothing if not meticulous about his look. He had to be, when it was the product he was selling. But lately, even his Sundays were being booked with side jobs.

He chucked the empty latte cup into the trash and got onto his bike. It was Sunday morning and he had once again broken his rule and picked up an extra gig at the beach by the lake. He almost hadn't taken the job, except that there was a lady working today that he absolutely wanted to see.

***

You were sitting inside a minivan with the sliding door open, cords coming out of your laptop and hooked up to a power strip, connected to an orange extension cord that was coming out of the visitor’s center. Your boss was testing shots by the new mural that had been painted on the retaining wall next to the beach. You had helped her set up most of the lighting gear already, so at this point, the two of you were just waiting for the model to arrive. While you had wanted to spend the weekend touching up your costumes for the convention next week, you also needed the extra money. It had nothing to do with that fact that the model for today was none other than the delightful (and very sexy) Javier Escuella.

Ever since you had started working with this modeling & photography company, you had done a lot of random work that wasn’t really related to your college degree. However, you learned a lot about the profession and discovered that the thing you really loved more than photography itself was the photo-editing.

While you were editing some of your personal photos, you heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling up. Looking over at the source of the sound, you watched as Javier pulled his helmet off his head and shook his hair out. As he took off his bandana and biker jacket, you made a mental note to remember this moment forever, his biceps revealed, his sleeveless shirt wrapped around his torso like a lover.

Then he looked at you and grinned. He had caught you staring. Again.

How many times in the past three months since he started to work with your company had he caught you staring? And how many times had he just grinned at you, knowing he had caught you?

Too many. Didn't he think you were a creep? And yet he still smiled.

“Hey you,” Javier said smoothly as he walked over to you, the slight sway to his hips taunting you. He was a natural-born model, his movement graceful as a cat and his charisma amplified by his seductive smile. Taking a seat next to you, the space between you two barely a hair’s breadth apart, he leaned over to look at your screen. “What are you working on?”

You quickly tried to shut the laptop, but just as quickly he stayed your hand. His hand was bigger than yours, encompassing and warm. His fingers, wrapped around yours, gently moved the laptop screen back up, and you couldn’t stop him, so enraptured by his touch.

Apprehensively you watched him as he looked at your latest shots of you in your almost completed costume. You swallowed. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you? After all, you had your glasses on, a big beanie over your hair, and an oversized sweater. Your photo had so much more makeup on and a wig, perhaps he wouldn’t—

“Oh, I know this Insta account.”

You paled.

“I’m a big fan.”

"I'm editing for a friend–"

"Don't lie," he said softly. "I can tell it's you. I've known since I started working with you."

You squeaked.

He turned his blazingly glorious smile onto you, and you felt like the sun was shining straight into your eyes. While you were reeling from his admission, he continued to talk to you.

"You're going to that big convention next weekend, right?"

You nodded.

"Can I come?"

Shrugging as you tried to play it cool despite the slight tremor in your voice, you replied, "I'm not sure if tickets are still available, but I wouldn't stop you."

He leaned in a little closer. "What if I told you I already had a ticket?"

You gulped. "Re-really?"

Nodding, he stood up, giving you room to breathe. "I may not look like it, but I enjoy comics too."

Noticing that your boss was starting to head over, you quickly said, "please don't tell my boss about this. I don't want her to think I'm slacking or anything."

Javier smiled and winked at you. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me." He leaned down to look at you in the eyes, and you were mesmerized for a moment from the intensity. "Just promise me I get a photo shoot with you at the con."

You nodded, your head moving so fast that your glasses dipped down your nose.

He laughed as he casually reached down and moved your glasses back up, his fingers brushing against your temples.

"Then it's a date," he said as he walked away to greet your boss.

Grabbing your laptop and pulling it off the charger, you followed as they went to the shooting location, your heart pounding a million miles a second.

***

After the photo shoot, Javier traded his phone number with the lovely lady who had been the subject of his heated dreams as of late. He hadn't wanted to scare her; she always seemed so jumpy when he approached. But he always noticed the way she stared at him before he caught her eyes. The look she gave him was pure woman, and he craved more.

It wasn't just the looks that brought her to his attention. He started following her Instagram account a year ago when he was looking at last year's masquerade winners. Her smile, her energy, and her creativity drew him in. He had found himself liking all of her posts in a day, scrolling endlessly through her archive.

So when she had shown up at one of his photo shoots three months ago, he had been delighted. But she seemed shy and even denied that she had an Instagram account when he had asked her. He was even more surprised to find that she wasn't a model, but the photographer's intern.

At that time, he had let it go. She was clearly hiding it, clearly didn't want to draw attention to herself. But every time he got to work with her, he felt frustrated that she hid herself so carefully behind her wide rimmed glasses and oversized hoodies. Her cosplay photos were amazing, her smile brilliant, her makeup impeccable, her costumes were bold and full of color combinations that seduced his vision.

At the same time, having her hidden away made him feel a bit better about her safety. What kind of wolves would go after her if they knew how gorgeous she was under her baggy clothes?

As he slowly got to know her, his affection for her had only grown. With each job, he talked with her more and more, and she had opened up to him. While they hadn't traded phone numbers until now, he could say with a certain level of confidence that they were on good terms. Almost friends, really.

He couldn't wait for next week. He had gotten his Comic-Con ticket months ago and had been preparing on his own. Javier grinned under his helmet.

She was going to be so surprised to see him.

***

"Thanks for working today. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem, see ya later!"

Your boss waved as she went to her car and drove off. The two of you had dropped the company van back at the office, so now you had the rest of the day to yourself.

Getting into your car, you started it up, put your favorite music on…

And you promptly screamed in both excitement and anxiousness. You had a date with Javier. You. Had a date. With Javier.

You drove home, got to your apartment, and started working feverishly on the rest of your costume.

Next weekend had to be perfect.

***

You finished your make up and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had arrived at the convention center early and started getting ready in the bathroom as other cosplayers had begun to trickle in. For everything else in your life, you were unsure of yourself, constantly second guessing your choices and worrying if you were, in fact, wrong about everything.

But in this space, you felt strong. Confident. Because, despite the occasional hater in your comments, the majority of your feedback was positive. Besides, you were someone else when you put on your outfit. You were Star.Bright.909, a cosplayer with over a thousand followers. Not as many compared to the big name cosplayers, but you were proud of yourself for getting this far.

So when you came out of the restroom looking your best, the few gasps you heard were worth it. As you walked outside towards the photography area that had been set aside for cosplayers, you already had five people asking to take photos of you.

You smiled and posed and thanked everyone who wanted to take a photo. You were gracious and patient, even though you were trying to meet up with some photographers you had spoken with online. When you reached the small plaza, you met up with them and worked for the rest of the morning, posing as the photographers asked and networking with other cosplayers in the area.

Just as you were about to head off towards the lobby to check out the dealer's hall, a man walking through the crowd caught your attention. Dressed up in a skin tight lycra Spiderman outfit, you could tell immediately that his muscles were real. The way he moved was smooth, graceful, and awfully familiar, despite not seeing his face.

Wait.

It couldn't.

As he came closer to you, he bowed in a gentlemanly fashion and held out his hand.

"Hola, mi Estrella."

You squeaked. "Javier?"

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Perhaps we could take a photo together?"

"Of course," you said, suddenly shy. A professional model wanted to take a photo with you. Granted, you knew Javier, but he was still a pro, while you were an amateur.

"Do you mind if I put my arm around you?" he asked politely.

"That’s fine," you said, your face warming.

He nodded and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for the photo. You grinned, channeling your happiness into your smile. Holding up the phone for a selfie, Javier took a few shots before taking a look at them to check their quality.

He still hadn't let go of you.

"Whoops, sorry," he said, finally letting go.

"It's okay," you quickly said. "I… I didn't mind."

He looked at you, but his mask prevented you from seeing his expression.

"Are you free now?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm free for the rest of the day." You had worked yesterday and some of today, but you always left the last half-day of any convention for shopping or panels.

Javier held out his hand and you gladly took it, letting him walk you back to the entrance of the convention center.

As the two of you walked past one of the hotels that lined the plaza, you saw the laces of one of your boots hit the ground.

"Hold on," you said as you stepped off the main path to tie it back.

Then you felt the splash of liquid come down on your head, the smell of alcohol pungent and seeping into your wig.

For a moment you were shocked. Then the overwhelming sense of frustration hit you and all you could do was stay still and will yourself not to cry. Not in front of Javier.

Warm hands touched your wet shoulders.

"Sweetie. Come on, let's get you changed. Can I escort you to your hotel room?"

You looked up at him, at his compassionate eyes, and you shook your head. “I drove here this morning.” You had driven here from your apartment, an hour away.

“Oh. I see.” He took your hand and began to lead you down the road, away from the convention center.

"Where are we going?"

"My hotel room, if that’s alright. Or would you rather go back to the convention hall?"

“You got a room?” you said in surprise.

He shrugged. “I have other business in the city tomorrow morning, figured it’d be easier to spend the night.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, unsure of what else to say.

“So… are you okay coming with me? I won’t do anything, I promise.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You put your hand on his arm. “I trust you, Javier.”

He nodded and continued to walk with you. He was taking you to his bedroom. No ulterior motives, he just wanted to help you get clean.

But part of you really wished he had some ulterior motives.

***

“I’ll get you some extra clothes from my backpack,” Javier called out to you as he left you to clean up in the bathroom on your own.

You stared in the mirror; your make up was ruined, your wig would need an extreme clean up when you got home, and your costume was stained and reeked of alcohol. As you took off everything and tried to rinse out what you could in the sink, you counted yourself lucky that this had happened at the end of the convention rather than the beginning. At least you had all of your shots and you could maybe sell a few prints to make some of your cash back.

You showered and dried your hair as quickly as you could, not wanting to take up more of Javier’s time. He had left a shirt and shorts in front of the bathroom door for you, and you opened the door a crack to pull them inside, throwing them on. They were a bit loose on you, but that was a welcome relief, compared to the skin tight costume you had on earlier.

“Alright, I’m good,” you said as you exited the bathroom. Javier was lying on the bed, his legs still on the floor. His costume was unzipped to expose his torso, his arms up in the air as he was typing on his phone. Turning his head to you, he gave you a lazy grin before patting the bed next to him.

“Have a seat, I’m just finishing this post for Insta.”

You sat next to him and took in his body from up close. His abs were perfect; you wanted to run your hands down them to see how they’d feel under your fingers. He was lean, tanned, muscles, everything you lusted after.

“What do you think?”

You quickly looked up at him, as if he hadn’t just caught you staring at his body. He was holding out his phone, a picture of the two of you with your costumes. The caption said, Found my favorite cosplayer today! She graciously took a selfie with me, isn’t she wonderful?

You felt warm from his kind words. “You’re too nice to me,” you mumbled.

Javier laughed softly and sat up. “I like being nice to you.” He posted the photo and put his phone down. Turning towards you, he reached up and stroked your face with the back of his knuckles. “I just… like you.”

You swallowed. The fact that he was saying that now, with you wearing baggy clothes, your make-up gone, just being your unglamorous self, meant so much that you started to tear up.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No,” you said between tears. “I like you too.”

He started to lean in for a kiss before he stopped. “May I?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you said without thinking.

A moment passed, his deep brown eyes searching yours. “Anything?” he finally said.

You nodded. Time to own up to your words, to your feelings that you had been denying for so long. “Yes.”

“Well, I’d rather do whatever we want with each other,” he said, smiling gently.

You leaned in and kissed him, surprising him and surprising yourself. Your hands rested on his chest and you gave in, exploring his toned body, his skin underneath your fingers, feeling warm and inviting to your touch. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you back, a passionate inhalation of your very spirit, as if he wanted to merge his soul with yours.

Soon he pressed you down against the mattress and kissed you for a few moments more before he pulled away. “Wait here for a few, I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like sweat and spandex. You deserve better than that.”

You laughed as he kissed your cheek and went to shower.

Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you managed to find your brain again. You, and he, were about to…

Your brain left again and you just grew warm between your legs. You wanted him so much.

In a daze, you didn't notice the sound of the shower turning off. You didn't notice the door open and close. You only noticed when he came back to the bed, wearing just a towel around his waist, smiling down at you. The tendrils of his black hair clung to his cheeks, still damp from the shower, as drops of water slid down his neck to his chest, drawing a line you desperately wanted to trace with your tongue. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed his towel wasn’t exactly hiding his desire for you.

"I've wanted you for so long, querida," he said, his voice like fingertips gliding down your spine as he stepped to the foot of the bed. Taking off your shirt and throwing it aside, he grabbed your breasts and kissed them, laving each nipple with his tongue before pinching and teasing you with his dexterous fingers until you were a writhing mess. You could feel your panties being soaked by your desire, and you shifted your legs, wanting to remove them.

Your movement attracted his attention, and he looked down at you. Reaching down to pull at the waistband of your (his) shorts, he pulled them off, revealing your beige panties.

“Aw, I thought you would have gone commando,” he teased as he tugged your underwear down your legs, his fingers caressing you along the way.

“They weren’t soaked with alcohol,” you mumbled.

“They’re soaked now,” he said with a cocky grin, tossing them aside. Then he placed a hand at each of your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your most intimate body parts to him. Licking his lips, he knelt down and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed.

The moment Javier’s tongue brushed against your core, you nearly came. He was hungry, so hungry, and ate you out like a man starved. With one hand he held you down, his fingers splayed out on your stomach and occasionally digging into your soft flesh while he slipped one finger inside of you, stretching you out slowly.

“Let me hear what I’m doing to you, baby,” he said before diving back in.

“Y-you’re, making me, feel really, good,” you managed to say between sharp intakes of breath.

“Bien, bien,” he praised, petting your belly. “Come on my tongue, querida, I want to taste your happiness.”

With that command, he slipped another finger inside of you and sucked hard on your center, his eyes on you as he drove your body into a heated frenzy, barely able to hold you down as you keened. Your hips undulated out of your control as the spiral unraveled and you let go, euphoria zipping up and down your body. You cried out wordlessly as you peaked and then fell, landing in a fluffy cloud of afterglow.

“Oh my god, Javier,” you breathed. “That was amazing.”

“Who said we were done?”

You lifted your head up just in time to see his teasing grin as he stood up.

And he dropped his towel.

Your lust went through the roof; you were so ready for round two.

His hands on your knees, he pushed them up to your shoulders.

“Hold your legs open for me.”

You willingly obeyed.

Javier cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you, the taste of your release still lingering on his lips. You felt him nudge you open, his length sliding inside of you as the two of you shared a moan, swallowed up by each other’s kiss.

He continued to kiss you as he slowly pressed forward until his hips were flush with yours.

“You feel like heaven,” he said as he leaned back so that he was standing over you, his cock deep inside of you, your hips barely on the edge of the bed. He gripped your waist, his hands warm in contrast to the cool hotel air. Slowly sliding out of you until only the tip of him remained, the only warning you got was the feel of his fingers digging into you before he slammed back into you.

“Oh my god!” you yelped.

“Too much?” he asked, looking a little worried.

“Keep going, please,” you begged. “I want it hard!”

“Oh yes,” he moaned before going all out, letting loose all of his lust for you as he fucked you in a frenzy. He fell upon you, crushing you into the mattress as he wrapped a hand around your neck. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes!” you breathed out, your voice cracking. “More, more!”

Javier’s eyes lit up as he pulled out of you and picked you up effortlessly, tossing you into the center of the bed and rolling you onto your stomach before climbing up onto the bed. You felt his length sliding along the curve of your ass before he lifted your hips up slightly and mounted you from behind, moaning softly.

“You’re perfecto,” he whispered into your ear when he covered you with his body and began to fuck you from behind, his hand wrapping around your neck again. You could feel the brush of his hair along your skin as he rutted into you, his deep sounds of pleasure echoing in your ears.

His long fingers found their way to your clit. One stroke and you flinched, still sensitive from your last climax. He didn’t show you any mercy; the hand around your neck tightened, his legs trapped yours in place, and his fingers found your core once again, stroking you oh so perfectly. The pressure from his touch was just right, the feel of his breath against your ear as he slipped into another language to tell you how much he coveted you.

Javier’s head pressed against your temple. “Give me everything, baby. I want you so much.”

His words, his touch, his absolute possession of your body made your release so much stronger this time around. You cried out his name as pure pleasure rocketed through your bloodstream, a high better than any drug. His hips kept pumping as you spasmed beneath him, wringing out every last gasp and moan from you until you were shaking with the aftershocks.

“Let me make a mess of you,” he growled.

“Yes, please,” you said mindlessly, willing to do whatever he asked.

He pulled out of you and rolled you onto your back. Straddling your waist, he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock. You stroked him rapidly, watching his eyes burn with ecstasy, his breathing grow heavier as he reached his peak. Reaching for his balls with his other hand, you fondled him gently, looking up at him with a smile.

That flipped a switch, as he reached for your neck again, his other hand wrapping around yours to apply more pressure to his cock as he came, spilling himself all over your breasts. He moaned your name as he finished, looking at you in complete awe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, letting go of your neck and hand as he fell to one side and rolled to face you. “I haven’t come like that in forever.”

Looking at his satisfied face, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a one time deal or if this was the start of something, you weren’t sure what.

You must have looked concerned, because he frowned, his brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um, I… never mind,” you quickly said, deciding not to voice your thoughts.

He leaned in, placed both his hands on your cheeks, and squished your face a little. “Please tell me.”

With his gaze so intensely close to you, you spoke without filtering. “Is this a one time deal? Or can we be… something more?”

He stopped squishing your cheeks, but he kept his hands on your face. Kissing your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, he smiled at you. “I want something more. Do you?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“So let’s try."

You couldn't help the grin that broke out on your face.

"That's the smile I fell for," he said, smiling back. As he tried to pull you close, you pushed on his chest.

"I'm sticky."

Javier just laughed. "Let's take a shower then." He cupped your cheek and kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes. The way he looked at you pulled at your heart, while his next words made you happier than you had ever been.

"You're the brightest star in my life."

-------------------

End Notes: A bit on the nose, but the lyric is from Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira. Hope you enjoyed this story! One more left in this series. I’m going to wrap it up with the last Arthur x F!Reader!

Also happy birthday to @eddescuella!!! I waited so I could post on your special day! 💖💖💖

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #javier escuella #javier x F!reader #nsft #fanfic #writing #biker au #lemon fanfic

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wetalkinboutbooks · 5 years ago

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An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

Summary: Laia is a slave. Elias is a soldier. Neither is free.

Under the Martial Empire, defiance is met with death. Those who do not vow their blood and bodies to the Emperor risk the execution of their loved ones and the destruction of all they hold dear.

It is in this brutal world, inspired by ancient Rome, that Laia lives with her grandparents and older brother. The family ekes out an existence in the Empire’s impoverished backstreets. They do not challenge the Empire. They’ve seen what happens to those who do.

But when Laia’s brother is arrested for treason, Laia is forced to make a decision. In exchange for help from rebels who promise to rescue her brother, she will risk her life to spy for them from within the Empire’s greatest military academy.

There, Laia meets Elias, the school’s finest soldier—and secretly, its most unwilling. Elias wants only to be free of the tyranny he’s being trained to enforce. He and Laia will soon realize that their destinies are intertwined—and that their choices will change the fate of the Empire itself. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:

→ Geena: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

→ Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: We genuinely love this book series so much that our brains recircuit talking about it... all we can do is say if you’re looking for good fantasy with amazing characters and plot... this is it!

Check out the spoiler full review below~

The Good:

→ The Worldbuilding

Kae: Worldbuilding baybeeeeee. I LOVE IT. Reading this series was such an eye opener for me. It was so far from the usual European magic and broomsticks, that I NEEDED MORE. So I kept reading lol. The worldbuilding in this series is fantastic. There are Efrits, Jinn, magic, and more. This world is set in a Romanish Empire/Pakistani fusion of cultures. You have the Scholars are the lowest caste of people, the Tribes which is basically just a step up from ScholarS, but they are free. Then we have the Plebeians and the Martials. All of these cultures are so well written and developed that you have no trouble differentiating what culture certain characters might belong to just based on their name. Ex: Afyah, Ilyaas = Tribes; Darin, Laia, Izzy= Scholars; Markus=Pleb; Helene, Elias = Martials. All very easy to distinguish, I think.

We also have some magical beings who are more or less immortal. The Jinn and Efrits, the Nightbringer, Shaeva, the Augurs. They’re all linked to a literal higher power.

We also have The Waiting Place, which is basically purgatory. But it’s where the dead go to be escorted to the next life.

Geena: I deserve no rights because I've always loved the whole roman empire history shit, it was always the most interesting shit to learn about so when I read the synopsis like roman inspired… written by a SA woman… i LOST MY SHIT!!! AND LIKE KAE DESCRIBED Sabaa does an amazing job of weaving in magical elements too, and ugh….. Her mind… BUT ALSO WHAT I LOVED IS, something a lot of fantasy authors do is fall into a hole of introducing race politics (aka RACISM) based on skin colour, but Sabaa was like… Wait Ik how to format this

Tired: Fantasy world skin-colour based racism

Wired: Fantasy world-class system based beef

Sabaa tackles the issue of class systems and so on, and she did it all from scratch and I fucking loved it, it was gratifying to see an author who put so much effort into her worldbuilding. Also… this is v dumb… but the whole detail with sending messages using drums….. I was here for it

→ Laia and Elias

Kae: They’re wonderful and need a hug

Geena: Sabaa made an executive decision to write two whole cinnamon rolls and she did! COMPLEX cinnamon rolls that we love from the bottoms of our hearts. We start off with Laia’s perspective as she waits for her brother in her room, but shit hits the fan real quick and the Martial empire’s elite soldiers storm their small home searching for her brother. We learn that her brother, Darin, has got his hands on top secret info and if he doesn’t turn it over they’ll murder everyone. Darin and Laia try to make a run for it but are apprehended by a Mask (Essentially an elite soldier) and they’re forced to watch their grandparents die, Darin tells Laia to run and get out of there and our girl… our girl listens but she has mad ragrets. We follow Laia as she stumbles to the Resistance, an underground Scholar organization that has mad beef with the Martial empire. There she’s tasked with acting as a slave to hands down, the WORST person in the empire, Keris Veturia. All of this in the hopes that the Resistance will help save her brother who’s been imprisoned in the most brutal prison in the empire.

What I love about Laia is that she’s not perfect, she’s not an amazing fighter and strategist off the bat… she’s an 18/19 year old girl from an oppressed group that has no idea what’s going on and her only skill set is that of a healer. BUT!!! Throughout the book we get to watch Laia make mistakes and learn from them, all of which makes her stronger and smarter. She’s so determined 🥺 even when Keris is carving her initials into Laia’s chest, even when she’s brought to the brink of death, Laia sticks with her goal to find Darin no matter the cost. Anyways.. We stan…. THOUGH TO BE HONEST, when I had started reading it, her first few chapters were frustrating to read because I was like “why would you do that1!!!” but then I set the book down at one moment and thought about how I’d act in the same situation and I was like….. I would’ve fucked up and been killed like 10 pages ago so Laia is doing really well LMAO… and since then I’ve been ready to fight for Laia whenever I see people shit on her.

Kae: BOOM! So Geena summed up Laia’s character/situation perfectly. WE STAN LAIA OF SERRA. Now, we’re gonna talk about our brooding, handsome boy, Elias aka Ilyaas. Elias, is WILDLY the son of Keris. Keris had a lil boo thang back in the day and got preggers. She did everything she could to terminate the pregnancy, but nothing worked. So she was forced to give birth to him. She fucked off to the desert tribes for a while and learned how to deliver a baby, so she could deliver her own. When the time came, Keris gave birth to Elias. She cared for him for about five minutes before she was like “Yeah, I’m not with the shits. Fuck this kid.” And she left Elias in the desert near the tribes so he could be raised with them. Years later, Elias was chosen by the Martials to attend Blackcliff. Blackcliffe is a school where the Martials train to become the most elite soldiers in this world. Elias trains and trains and is ultimately the top of his class. At a certain age, the students are given silver mask that will eventually completely fuse to their face. Elias hates his mask. He takes it off every night, so it still hasn’t fused to his face like the rest of his class. Elias also hates Blackcliffe and was planning on being a deserter. He had a bag packed and was fully prepared to leave. He was sad to leave his best friend and confidant, Helene, but he was RET TA GO. That is, until he was selected to compete in the Trials that would change his world forever. These trials are to select who is to rule the Empire. He gets this news, when Laia, Keris’s slave is sent to retrieve him. When he meets Laia, he is instantly smitten. He forgets himself, is smiling, shooting the breeze, asking her names, etc. Then realizes, he could get her in trouble just for being nice to her. So they move along.

Elias is a very sweet boy who just got caught up in a lot of shit with the trails. Every day he spends at Blackcliffe is another day he hates himself. The kid (well he’s like 20), is just straight up MISERABLE. These trials are to rest his mind, power, and strength and all the usual. The last two winners in the end will be the ruler and the Blood Shrike, aka advisor. This is almost a good thing, because Elias is competing with Helene and if they both win, they can both rule. Things are going pretty well for them. They’re winning, it’s looking good. But then, Elias has to go against Helene and they both have to lead a small armada against one another. It’s either kill or be killed. In the end, he has to go against Helene . In the end, he and Helene reluctantly battle it TF OUT. Elias wins because Helene had to forfeit because she was wearing some magical armor that couldn’t be penetrated. Elias feels HORRIBLE. His friends are dead. He ALMOST killed his best friend. He feels ashamed and like a monster. If he hadn’t hated himself before (which he totally die), he SURELY hates himself now. Laia is then sent to his chambers/rooms as his prize. He’s meant to sleep with her, but he hates himself too much and he doesn’t want to take advantage of her. So they just talk and end up sharing a little smoochy smooch. But uh, ya boy is lowkey SPRUNG cause Laia is cute and she got them CHILD BIRTHING HIPS.

Geena: Kae got that *Chef’s kiss* Elias/Ilyaas summary I s2g. I loved Elias because he was honest to god such a refreshing character to read. Like he seems like the typical YA boy → Tall, dark, handsome, and brooding. BUT!!! He’s so different and in the best way possible. FIRST OFF!!! He actually has such a fulfilling childhood (no sad backstory other than learning his mom is an actual piece of shit rip…. More like sad present story). Secondly, he recognizes that what he’s doing is wrong and the way the Martials terrorize Scholar’s is garbage and he wants no part of it. THIRD, he doesn’t like to push his own trauma on those around him? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT WELL, but like he’s such an upstanding guy that treats people well no matter what? Also… he’s lowkey a dumbass… like Kae mentioned when he first met Laia his brain hit a reset and he was essentially like “Me name potato.” We love a hot dumb jock that chugs that respecting women juice.

Kae: OMG HE’S A TALL, THINNER ALTAIR MINUS DICK JOKES. HE’S NASIR AND ALTAIR IN ONE. ASDFGHJKL

Geena: YEEEEAASSSSS (check out that review here). ALSO MY final thots on Laia and Elias that as a duo they’re amazing! Laia gives Elias advice when they’re stuck in his room together 🤪 and he finally chooses that he’ll do what HE wants and not what the empire wants. Elias, in turn, vows to help find and save Darin…. I love them sm they bring the best out of each other 😭

→ Izzy ft. Helene’s One Singular Good Person Moment

Kae: IZZY! Izzy is the epitome is sugar, spice, and everything nice. Well, minus the spice because she’s really just a sweet little sugar plum. Izzy is also Keris’ slave. She’s around the same age as Laia if not a year or two younger. She’s very quiet and tries to keep to herself. But she finds herself secretly being friends with Laia and helping her when things are the absolute worst. When Keris carved her initials into Laia’s chest, Laia got really sick. Our girl had a crazy fever and Izzy was there to help her through it. Well, she got Elias and he got some herbs and shit, BUT IZZY HELPED. Though Izzy has been a slave her entire life, she has always wanted to be free of Blackcliffe and all of its horrors. So she works with Laia, sneaking out, and sometimes stealing, to make sure that can happen for the both of them. I should also mention that Keris took Izzy’s eye as a child. So Izzy is a small, skinny, fragile, one eyed sweetie. But all of her hardship doesn’t stop her from being such a genuinely good person.

Geena: Izzy is such a sweet character who tries her best to not be friends with Laia, but people GRAVITATE to Laia (good and bad rip) so she didn’t hold out very long. My favourite scene with them was when they sneak out to participate in some yearly festival that is ~~illegal~~ such a sweet moment I lowkey died. Moving on to Helene though, the poster child of brainwashed, patriotic, eating-propaganda-for-breakfast, and the second best Mask after Elias. Helene is also shown to have feelings for Elias so when Laia shows up she’s not pleased at all! And Elias himself is confused about his feelings and rip when he was like “Let me try to kiss Helene and see if I like her too” LIKE BOY…. DON’T PLAY HER LIKE THAT PLS…. BUT he doesn’t bc Laia is ATTACKED thus interrupting their moment and Helene is annoyed like “OFC IT’D BE THAT BINCH!!!” like Helene the poor girl was attacked by another walking bag of shit o my god… BUT!!! Near the end of the book when Elias and Laia are escaping Helene is the first one to catch them, but she lets them go! A turning point for her character maybe? Though I know for a fact she didn’t care about Laia, but was doing it bc she still cared for Elias and didn’t want to see him slaughtered no matter how much she’s a ride-or-die for the Martials.

The Bad :

→ The Scholar Resistance

Kae: Is that what they were called? Because they HIGHKEY played tf out of Laia. Alright. The Resistance. They’re mean and I HATE THEM. The Resistance is a rebel movement by a few Scholars who are fighting for the freedom and equality or their people. Laia’s parents were like, the biggest, most badass leaders who have ever lead them. But after they died, things kind of fell apart for The Resistance. Laia, stumbles into their hideout after she runs away from home, after her brother was kidnapped and her grandparents were killed. She begs for them to help her and they’re basically like “Mmmm. No. But you look familiar tho… Who ya momma nem?” and she’s like “lol yeah actually my parents used to run this shit so help me.” And they help her… Kind of… They basically send her ona dummy mission. A SUICIDE MISSION to be the Commandant’s slave (Keris), to gather information about the Martials and their next plan. In return, they were to help free Darin. Laia was to gather info, then meet with Keenan (a boy in the Resistance) to give over said info every week. Well, they also chose not to tell Laia that she was basically on this mission for nothing. They had no real way to get Darin out of the prison he was being held at. They were really just sending her to die because they KNEW Keris was ruthless and that none of her slaves lasted more than a few months before they were killed or killed themselves. Long story short, FUCK The Resistance. They’re bitches and we HATE THEM.

Geena: Kae’s right… the Resistance is a bunch of wrinkly ass losers that can kiss our asses. When it was revealed that the Resistance didn’t know SHIT about Darin and were just fucking with Laia…. I was ready to to go down to this place and fight them mySELF. Laia risked EVERYTHING to get them information, she survived for god knows how long under Keris and when she couldn’t come up with something substantial they’d be like “Oh well you’re fucking useless” as if she’s not the daughter of the Lioness aka the most fierce Resistance leader that they ever had. Also, Keenan (....) comes through in the end and offers her a way to break her slave cuffs and escape, but Laia decides that Izzy deserves that more than she does and that Laia would find her own way out… But also imagine the betrayal that Laia felt, the people that were supposed to keep her safe and help her were just screwing her over the whole time. But… despite everything that happens Laia is still her sweet self? Just like Ilyaas… both manage to maintain their humanity no matter the shit thrown at them.

The Ugly:

→ Keris’ tiny little mean ass

Kae: Geena said that shit, baybeeee! Ugh, her MIIIIND. Alright. Now. Let’s talk about “The Bitch of Blackcliffe”. This woman. Evil, vile woman, is basically a 5’3, blonde hair demon. She has absolutely no patience. If you sneeze in the same room as her she’ll probs slit your throat and make a disgusted, disappointed face at you while doing it. She will tolerate NOTHING. You will not speak to her unless spoken to. I mean, this is a woman who wanted to look like so much of a badass that she thought being pregnant and delivering her own baby in a cave alone would make her look weak. I think that was actually pretty tough of her though because whew… I couldn’t do it.

Geena: She got back to her neanderthal roots

Kae: LMAOOO GIRL IM DEAD.But like, in her youth, Keris went to Blackcliffe. As we heard from her father at some point, Keris was miserable there. She was taunted, picked on, and beat up (mind you she was the only girl at that school so that’s fucked up). She had absolutely no friends and had to fend for herself. So, to make up for it, Keris became ruthless. She became a heartless woman because people made her that way. I hate to be that person, but like, I get it? I can see why someone would become so coldhearted. She did not have a good life. Her mother died when she was young, her father wasn’t there, and she had no friends. I’m not surprised at all that she turned out to be such a horrible person as an adult. No, I’m not giving he an excuse. She had the option to be a good person and she didn’t choose that. But, yeah. That’s my take on her evil ass. WHEW. OKAY DO YA THANG.

Geena: TRUE, Kae’s right, Keris had that sad :( childhood :( but at the same time, it’s like… you didn’t have to continue being a dick like people were to you but here we are. Also, she’s genuinely such a terrible person and orchestrates the genocide of the Scholars and is a BITCH about everything. What I realize now is that…. She’s essentially Elias’s foil? Like neither had a solid father figure, both had a tough time growing up (with Elias missing his tribal home and being forced to murder, and Keris being bullied), but Elias does his best to break out of that cycle but Keris is like… *slurps up the shitty Martial mudwater*... she is the bootlicker supreme who finds joy at having her son beheaded (Helene is Bootlicker Lite because at least she let Elias live whereas Keris tried her best to get him killed) BUT JOKES ON THAT BITCH BC ELIAS LIVES!!!! Elias would send Keris a crude drawing of himself like “I lived bitch!”

Anyways, she’s an extremely well-written villain else we wouldn’t hate her so much lmao…

Conclusion

Kae: In conclusion, we fuck with it. I loved this series so much, I read the first three books in one week and was heartbroken to find out that the fourth book wasn’t out yet. YA GIRL IS ATTACHED TO THESE CHARACTERS, OKAY!???? An Ember in the Ashes is a wonderful, extremely well written book. I think Sabaa is a literal genuis. This book made me fall in love with reading all over again. I think the characters are so individually different, it’s amazing. They are well distinguished and independent of each other. They are strong and sweet and funny and evil. Just all around AMAZING as well as the folklore, stories, and cultures that are presented to the audience.

Geena: yyyeeeaaaass the care that Sabaa Tahir put into this book, ranging from how each character is written to the intricate worldbuilding got a bitch tearing up, BECAUSE ONE DAY I WISH TO WRITE THIS WELL!! An Ember in the Ashes draws you in from the first page, and I litcherally say this for every book we’ve reviewed but there’s NEVER a dull moment (I need a new phrase lmao) you are constantly stressed reading this book (in a good way) and there’s like 2 more books after… and the last book in the series on the way. BLEASE READ Ember, because Kae and I have spent our whole time talking SCREECHING about this book. THINKING ABOUT IT, WITHOUT EMBER WE WOULDN’T HAVE THIS BLOG LMAOOO

Kae: OKAY BUT LIKE. LITERALLY. WE STARTED TALKING AND BECAME REAL GOOD FRIENDS BECAUSE OF THIS BOOK. LIKE, WITHOUT EMBER, THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED. SO THANKS, SABAA.

Geena: WE LOVE YOU, SABAA!!

Kae: And I guess that concludes today’s book rant/review! I hope you all enjoy our ramblings and more!

#an ember in the ashes #sabaa tahir #aeita #book review #booklr #bookworms #book blog #book blogger #book blogging #bookblr #Laia of Serra #Elias Veturius #books #reading #wetalkinboutbooks

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sailorrrvenus · 6 years ago

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The Winning Photos of the 2019 Wet Plate Competition

Modern Collodion has just announced the winners of the 2019 Wet Plate Competition, the second annual contest for wet plate collodion photographers around the world after launching last year.

This year, over 220 photos were submitted by 90 photographers based in 19 different countries. The judges, Michael Godek, Giles Clement, Alex Timmermans, Tom DeLooza, and Paul Barden, spent nearly a month on “difficult deliberation” before deciding on the handful of winning wet plates.

Here are the 2019 winning photos, artists, and stories:

Grand Prize: “Two Nails” by David Russo

I first became interested in collodion after seeing the work of Sally Mann in a photo book several years ago. I found the photographs moving and the process itself rather compelling. In 2013, I attended a workshop at the George Eastman Museum to study under Mark Osterman and learn the wet plate process. I’ve been practicing ever since.

Two Nails is an attempt to share something of my own experience with the world. It comes from an ongoing body of work titled The Framer. I’ve been working professionally as a picture framer for nearly a decade now, and it seemed like a natural extension of my working life to begin photographing the tools of the trade. With this ambrotype, I wanted to make a self-portrait that sought beauty in its simplicity.

Making the plate itself was a real labor of love. I say this, in part, because it took two months to work through. How does one make nails float? The answer, it turns out, is a lot of hard work. Through the use of selective focus, lighting, perspective, and a bit of custom fabrication, I was able to achieve the illusion. For me, the process was all about trial and error. I’ve discovered you learn a lot in the trying.

Studio Portrait, 1st Place: “Gestation” by Gianni Eros Cusumano

I have always lived in big cities, now I live in a tiny medieval village surrounded by nature. My approach to photography, through wet plate collodion process, reflects the slowness of the place where I live.

I also really like portraiture, the result of a tension between me and the subjects in front of me that results in a unique image.

This plate (10×12 inch) is part of a series called “Gestation” consisting of four collodion plates on clear glass. Each plate is the result of a double exposure: one image of the silhouette of my pregnant wife, obtained through a backward illumination of the subject with continuous light; and another one of the grain I placed on a black background.

The idea come up during the period of my wife’s pregnancy and was created two days before my daughter Giorgia’s birth. Seeing the transformation that my wife had during her pregnancy time was an incredible experience. Day after day her body has become more and more beautiful and strong in order to protect the life she was carrying on.

Studio Portrait, Runner Up: “Waltnessmonsta” by Matt Alberts

Feeling frustrated with the meaninglessness of most digital photography in combination with a desire to make something with my hands, I found the wet collodion process. In February of 2013 I took a class taught by Quinn Jacobson and thereafter we became good friends. I related to Quinn’s philosophy that the collodion process should be used to create something meaningful; he took me under his wing and he became my mentor. While apprenticing at Quinn’s studio in Denver, I invited my close friend and skateboarder, Walter Lacey, over to show him the process and take his portrait.

The plate “Waltnessmonsta” was one of the earliest images I made for the LIFERS project series. This shot was made using a 11×14 Deerdorff studio camera with a 320mm CC Harrison Petzval lens. The image is on black glass.

Natural Light Portrait, 1st Place: “Ballet in the Castle” by Gabriel Kiss

This photo is the result of a three days long preparation and negotiation. The photo shooting took place in one of Hungary’s most beautiful castles, the Esterhazy palace. Because it is a scheduled monument we needed a lot of permits. With the figure of the ballet dancer I did not want to point out the dance but rather to emphasize the tension surrounding the dance itself, its edges and lines.

Natural Light Portrait, Runner Up: “Gravity” by Keira Hudson

I originally studied printmaking at RMIT University in Melbourne, Australia from 2009-12 before transitioning to photography. I worked digitally for five years until I grew tired of working in front of a screen and decided to enroll in a tintype/ambrotype workshop at Gold Street Studios in Trentham.

I am inspired by a mixture of artists, writers, films and TV shows, and have a large hard drive full of media collected over 10 years. The artists whose work I regularly revisit include Berlinde de Bruyckere, Jenny Saville, Lauren Simonutti, and Sally Mann. I am drawn in by the rawness of their work, and the treatment of the human body in their respective practices.

For the past few years I have been working on a series centered around anxiety, and the body’s physical and emotional responses to persistent overthinking. I incorporate props such as thread, clothing, plastic wrap, and glass vessels into my photographs to restrict and compress the flesh, and recreate the daily feelings of anxiety I experience. In “Gravity”, I wanted the body to be suffocated in a glass and water cage.

Still Life, 1st Place: “Incroyable!” by Libby & Stephen of Henrietta’s Eye

We are primarily self-taught having been introduced to wet plate collodion almost by accident when a friend showed us the basics of the process. Admittedly, there’s more than a little bit of punk rock, DIY attitude in us, so making photographs the hard way somehow naturally meant for us that we’d also learn the hard way.

About our piece, fully titled Incroyable! (Wednesday, November 9, 2016): intentionally referencing the surrealist painter Magritte, it’s our attempt at expressing the collective spasm of disbelief felt by many following the 2016 presidential election in the United States — not just the surreal nature of that moment but the outrageous nature of life since. Beyond the symbology of the carnation, the suit and tie and mushroom cloud-like explosion, it was thematically relevant to use the in-camera trick photography associated with the early 1900s spiritualist movement to express this communal gasp and the experience of being hoodwinked by charlatans.

Still Life, Runner Up: “The World and The Man” by Gabriel Kiss

My photo was born from the idea that the egg as the origin of our world – the birth – has already been set on its edge and has to balance on it. And the scissors as the sword of Damocles are swaying above the egg. The rope can break any time and they can smash into the fragile eggshell.

Landscape/Architecture, 1st Place: “A Quiet Lakeside” by Maximilian Zeitler

Last October someone broke into the shared place I use for a studio and stole nearly all my large format cameras and a very rare and big lens I got borrowed from a friend for ultra large format portraits. Gathering equipment for wet plate always means searching auction houses and hoping to be lucky. Since I started wet plate about four years ago I therefore tried to get good equipment to work – that then was gone.

When I had overcome the first shock I packed the last ‚portable‘ wooden camera and all my darkroom equipment and drove into the Spreewald near Berlin to escape the studio and all the bad thoughts. At this small lake in the woods I set up the camera from 1890 together with an old wide angle lens from 1880 and exposed one plate around 60 seconds.

One should always keep on doing what you love!

Landscape/Architecture, Runner Up: “The Best Day” by Lynnette Bierbaum

I started doing wet plate collodion two years ago and glassblowing shortly thereafter. I stumbled through being self-taught with wet plate in the beginning but wanted to learn more about the process. I took a wet plate collodion class taught by Dan Estabrook at Penland School of Crafts in the summer of 2018 and returned again as a studio assistant for Jill Enfield in the spring of 2019.

These opportunities allowed me to refine and continue printing on my blown glass forms. I strive to find a balance between two and three-dimensional planes within my art. I blow the glass vessels to create an extension beyond the photograph that is just as important as the image itself.

I use positives in contact with the wet plate emulsion under an enlarger to expose the images onto the three-dimensional glass forms. Next, I develop, and varnish before removing the frame from the glass.

The idea behind the forms was my constant search for belonging and a place to call home. I always knew that the Midwest wasn’t the place for me, so I started traveling around the world looking for my idea of a home. Home is more than just a place, it’s about finding the right person, community and artifacts to make a place your home. The image printed on this glass vessel was taken in Ebeltoft, Denmark.

You can find a gallery of Honorable Mention wet plates as well as the full gallery of submissions over on the competition website (warning: some of the photos are not safe for work).

source https://petapixel.com/2019/04/11/the-winning-photos-of-the-2019-wet-plate-competition/

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pauldeckerus · 6 years ago