#revisiting this conversation with more translated words is so funny

[jjrachj]

he not kno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[evendale]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged in this by the lovely @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising. Thank you! 😊 It's nice to revisit my fics, it's been a while.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

23

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

1,014,041 words. Yikes 😂

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Most of my works are in the La Casa de Papél fandom. Before that, I was in the Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries fandom. I also have a handful of ficlets in the fandom for the Stormlight Archive books by Brandon Sanderson.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

My top 5 fics by kudos are all in the LCDP fandom, and they're all +100k words.

Number one is 'The White Queen', a Regency romance AU. It's got almost double the amount of kudos than the second-highest fic.

'Personal Relationships', a canon-compliant AU.

'Back to Galicia', a movie star second chance AU.

'Safe House', a witness protection program AU.

'Tell Me What You Like', a collection of canon 'fill the gap' smutty scenes.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I used to 😅 I used to love spending a lot of time writing elaborate and personal responses to comments, and I in fact met several of my best fandom friends through comment conversations! However, over time I just simply didn't have the energy for it anymore. There are still a bunch of super lovely comments on the last chapter of my last fic that I really should have responded to, but I simply don't have the mental space. I do feel bad about that 🙈

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write angsty endings. I love angst in the main fic, but I'm committed to HEAs :)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably 'The White Queen', where I spent about 50k words describing just how happy they were 😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've had a few nasty comments, but they're absolutely nothing compared to the vast sea of incredibly kind, lovely, and supportive comments I've gotten. I've been very lucky.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

My earlier work is almost entirely smut 😂 It's funny to see my later fics evolving into containing more and more plot, and less and less smut. I wonder how my readers felt about that 😂 The smut is explicit, but I've always tried to keep it tasteful.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't written any crossovers yet. I'm usually obsessed with only one piece of media at a time :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes -- I discovered a few years ago that one of my LCDP fics had been stolen and put on Amazon for money! It took ages to explain things to Amazon (because I didn't own the characters) and to get it taken down. It was a very icky feeling.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I've had several requests from people who wanted to translate my fics into Russian :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't think I could. I love to brainstorm about plot with a friend or beta reader, but I couldn't actually share the writing process. I'm too much of a control freak 😅

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

If we're only looking at the first 2 seasons of LCDP, then Serquel. However, the subsequent seasons partially ruined them for me, so maybe I'd better choose Phryne and Jack from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My only unfinished fic on AO3 is 'Tell Me What You Love' in the LCDP fandom, but that's more a series of vignettes that I kept open in case I wanted to add more. It wasn't really meant to have an ending. That said, I don't think I'll ever add to it anymore.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, I think. I also think in general I'm a clear writer who gets to the point without too many flourishes or detours.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

For a long time, I felt like I couldn't come up with any kind of original plot, but I think I got better at that over time. I'm still pretty bad at descriptions, though. I just want to get to the action and dialogue, and I forget that my readers are not in my head and can't see the characters or surroundings like I do :D

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I wouldn't include more than a few words of phrases sprinkled through the dialogue.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. I was all of 26 when I first discovered fanfiction!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

That's such a tough choice 😅😅 If I absolutely have to choose, then I think 'The White Queen'. I was really just writing the exact fic that I wanted to read myself with that one. I had so much fun with it, I was so inspired that the chapters literally flowed out without any effort, and I got the most amazing response to it from the fandom. It will always be extra special to me 😊

I'm not tagging anyone in particular, but if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged! :)

[bre-meister]

So hear me out. I don’t usually talk about Stranger Things here but I gotta rant to someone even if it’s just like, 3 random people who happen upon this post in the tags. I’ll put the rant under the cut for spoilers and for those who don’t care

Ok so this is 10000% about the whole Jancy situation in st4.

I feel like Jonathan and Nancy obviously have a communication issue that can be fixed with an in depth conversation. Now, will we get that conversation on screen? I’m not holding my breath but all that to say they both have pretty valid concerns about the trajectory of their relationship but it’s by no means has to be a dealbreaker for either side. They can go to different colleges and still be together! Although, slightly off topic, I kinda wish that Joyce would push Jonathan to go to a school he wants (like NYU since she said it was his dream) and not just stay for her and Will. Maybe with Hopper back he would feel more comfortable with that.

Back to the original plot of the story, this whole side thing going on with her and Steve is so weird to me. I’m echoing what a lot of people have already said but it just doesn’t make since for any of their characters narratively to get back together. We’ve established that they care deeply for each other but we’ve also established that “care” doesn’t always translate to “love” in a romantic sense. To me it also doesn’t make sense for Jancy to have that parallel scene where they talk about each other so passionately for the writers to just throw that away to make Stancy a thing again. But what do I know about characterization and writing, I only write fanfics, right?

Also, I’m also getting annoyed with all these characters who DON’T EVEN KNOW ALL THE PARTIES INVOLVED giving their two cents on Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship or her supposed feelings for Steve. Even for Dustin to say something about Steve not successfuly dating because he’s still into Nancy? Like…no? It makes sense that all his dates with the “normal” Hawkins girls fall flat. He’s experienced things that have become a huge part of his growth and personal story that he can’t share with anyone else. Plus it’s been established that most of the “normal” girls in Hawkins are a lot less mature or more superficial than Nancy or the other females in the larger party. No duh he can’t find a connection with anyone but it’s not necessarily because of Nancy.

So, to end this all off, I would like to leave whoever has made it this far with what I think would make a funny Jancy reunion and bring a conclusion to this whole revisited love triangle:

- Because we have established that Steve does not know “what he wants” we’ll say he follows everyone’s misguided advice and tries to charm and kiss Nancy even though I’d say he’s feeling a bit conflicted

- Nancy obviously does not reciprocate and immediately breaks off the kiss. She starts to tell Steve why she doesn’t feel the same way but suddenly Steve’s eyes go wide looking at something behind her. Before she can turn around and see what he’s looking at someone comes barreling over to Steve and punches him right in the face

- It’s obviously Jonathan

- he doesn’t truly “fight” Steve and both him and Nancy explain what happened because “it’s not what it looks like! Ok… it kinda was but it’s not!”

- words are exchanged, explanations given, and Steve leaves so Jancy can have a true reunion moment

- Dustin makes a comment to Steve about how Jonathan kicked his ass…again. The two descend into banter as they give the other two some semblance of privacy

Now, I’m not delusional about this actually happening. I do think it’s hilarious and offers a funny parallel to season 1. It also tied back into the joke about Steve and fighting. His total would be like 3:2 now (yes i am counting him fighting off that bat in the UD, it was kinda bad ass so gotta give Steve props) and Dustin or Robin would definitely make him aware that he is now loosing in terms of fights again.

Who knows that v2 will bring. I pray some peace for Jancy 😭

[theartofimagining13]

CHAPTER 4: THE CHEATER CHEETAH DRESS.

WRITTEN BY: A.Wölf.

BASED ON: Imagine: After a big discussion with your fiancé Tom…

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: 1 DISENGAGEMENT | 2 THE TALE OF THE OFFENSE | 3 THE WEDDING GUEST

TEASER  |  POSTER    |   CHAPTER POSTER | CHAPTER TEASER

NOTES: First and foremost, I would like to thank @clockgirl94​ because if she hadn’t sent me that Javier gif, this chapter wouldn’t have been born.  ❤︎

I was reluctant to write spanish dialogue translations but then I remembered that spanish is my first language and maybe not everyone else’s lol. 

And also, there’s a subtle POV change.

Enjoy.

Funny how some humans’ defense mechanism works only in retrospect.

You get out of a messy situation, and it is only when you look back that things are crystal clear and you ask yourself why did I not see this before?

I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes. After our honeymoon, Tom bought a bigger house in a quieter area of the city for us to move into. As I unpacked my clothes, I found a little summer dress that I hadn’t seen in months and I might as well have used as a noose because, as soon as I saw it, as soon as I touched it, I was out of breath and felt the biggest knot in my throat. There’s violence in the way some memories come back to us with an object or a smell; that seemingly insignificant piece of fabric unleashed in my mind a wild river of memories.

I chuckled at myself.

If I had truly wanted to forget, I would’ve burned the fucking dress but I had only managed to stash it at the bottom of a forgotten drawer, and now it was here. I got up and neatly placed it on the bed and stared at it. I suddenly felt a kiss on my left temple. Tom walked past me afterwards holding another heavy box and I saw the curious face he made once he left it on the floor and noticed the dress.

“You haven’t worn that in a long time.”  

“I know…”

He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You should.” He purred in my ear before planting kisses down my neck. “You drive me crazy in it.”

My heart raced when he held me tighter and spun me around. He caught my lips with his and I felt his hands going down my back. This was triggering for me, I had to stop him without being suspicious so I gently pulled away.

“Take me out on a date when we’re done here and I just might wear it.” I lied.

Tom let out a quiet pleasure groan in advance at the mental image perhaps.

“You got yourself a deal, baby.”

He gave me a quick peck on the lips and left to carry on with the move.

I sighed. See, the thing is, Tom wasn’t the only one who that dress drove crazy, and by now, I am pretty sure we’ve established that he and his former best friend, Pedro, liked the same things. As I stared at it again, I let myself go and revisited that particular memory in the forbidden recollections book.

Tom and I were hosting a summer cookout for a few friends and family in our old garden.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day in June, and I was wearing the now infamous cheetah print dress with combat boots. Tom had proposed a few days prior, and I hadn’t told Pedro. The thought alone made me nervous because how was I supposed to even form that sentence?

Hello, lover. I just got engaged.

Cringe. Of course not. Which is why I chose not to wear the ring for the occasion.

It didn’t get any easier when I saw Pedro as I walked out into the backyard. He was helping Tom with the grill and the charcoal, with a beer bottle in one hand but looked up at me and stared almost longer than politically correct. And the way he did it, slowly from head to toe and with slightly parted lips which made me feel things I shouldn’t have felt; but that ship had sailed. I kept my distance mingling with others at the party and he stayed there talking to Tom for a while.

I wish I had heard that conversation.

“I asked her to marry me.” Tom said with the biggest grin. “She said yes, mate.”

Pedro tensed up and stared at Tom, he swallowed and washed down a million sour words he could’ve said with the swig of beer he took.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tom chuckled. “I was… terrified.”

“Well, who in their right mind would ever do that?” Pedro half joked.

“You say that now…” Tom said. “But you just wait. I mean, look at her. Can you blame me?”

Pedro tightened his jaw as he glanced at her one more time and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I’ve told you a million times that you’re a lucky motherfucker.” He said causing Tom to laugh. “I gotta take a leak.” Pedro announced dryly. “Hey, you got anything stronger than this?” and immediately added, “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“There’s whiskey inside.”

“I’ll get it.”

He started to walk away but stopped to look back at Tom, realizing that he had forgotten something.

“Congratulations, man.” He forced a smile.

When Pedro walked into the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and scowled at himself in the mirror.

I put a big pitcher of lemonade in the fridge before I went upstairs but I stopped midway when I heard the hallway bathroom door opening and closing, and instinctively looked over my shoulder only to find Pedro.

I couldn’t read his expression so I kept walking, hoping that he would follow me, and aching for a moment with just the two of us alone. I faced him when I reached mine and Tom’s bedroom door and leaned against it with my hands behind my back. He got closer and placed his right hand right next to my head, towering over me as he stared into my soul.

“You think you can just walk around in that little dress and get away with it?”

“You like it?” I teased.

He slowly looked down and up again, provokingly.

“It’s driving me crazy.” He confessed in almost a whisper.

I allowed my eyes to wander and make sure that we were completely alone before I leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was cold, empty, so unlike Pedro’s trademark passionate ones, and he was rarely in a bad mood which made it twice as scary when he actually was, but I had no idea if that was the case. I pulled away and furrowed my eyebrows with concern. He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He inquired with the most serious face and tone.

“What do you mean?”

But he just cocked his head with condescendence and, it took me a minute, but I figured out what he was talking about.

“He told you.” I sighed. “Pedro, I was going to tell you, I just-”

“When were you going to tell me?” He cut me off.

“I-I don’t know, I couldn’t find the right w-”

I ceased talking and flinched when he struck the door with the hand that had been resting next to my head.

“Fuck’s sake…” He cursed and roamed a little with his hands on his waist.

Back then, silly me thought he was jealous, hell, I even liked it a bit. But no. Pedro was worried.

“Now?” He asked with a much more collected tone. “He had to propose now?”

Looking back, this was the only moment Pedro felt a little remorse. He was worried because my engagement had just made things even more complicated. Ironically enough, our affair had only started when this happened; we had been meeting in secret for a few weeks. We could’ve stopped then while Tom hadn’t a clue, could’ve pretended that it never happened and move on. Pedro and Tom’s friendship would’ve remained intact.

Pedro was a hypocrite, we’ve also established that. Somehow, it was okay to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend but once I became his fiancée, Pedro looked like he had finally encountered a line he could not cross.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He wondered out loud while looking over my shoulder as if he could see Tom in the backyard, through the door and walls.

Truthfully, I was very happy with my diamond ring, so, I also started pondering on my future with Pedro. The fact that our affair had just started had a pro and a con in common; Pro, We had only just begun which would make it easier to cut ties right then and there. Con, we had only just begun which would make it ten times harder to quit right then and there.

I sighed with frustration when I had that moment of honest clarity.

“I guess we could… stop?” I hesitantly asked and hated it to no end.

Pedro’s face fell and he studied me briefly but carefully.

“I mean,” I added. “People might get hurt.”

Pedro blinked several times and slowly began to nod.

“You’re right. We don’t… we don’t want that. We’ve been lucky.”

But I swallowed hard because I could easily tell that he loathed this as much as I did.

“We should just… be friends.”

Again, his brown eyes traveled up and down my body and he gulped.

“Friends.” He echoed.

My heart was racing in the middle of the staring contest we seemed to be having, and I felt as if he could hear it over the silence we shared. He inched closer.

“Is…is that what you want?” He inquired.

At that point, that was the only right thing left to do, and to sort of mend things or prevent them from getting worse. But Pedro understood my silence when I just glued my eyes to his.

“Open the door.” He ordered.

As soon as I did, he followed me inside, closing it behind him and kissed me on the lips in the most urgent way, and I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. I could feel his hands going down my back as he kissed my neck and chest, and I turned around and faced the bed because I knew what we both wanted and needed. He pressed me against his body and cupped my breasts. I could feel him getting hard and it weakened my knees. His hands went underneath my dress and he pulled down my underwear before pulling the skirt up.

The sound of Pedro unbuckling his belt in a rush reverberated in my core. I desperately needed him inside of me, I wanted and needed him to fuck me till we both came. He licked his fingers and touched me, letting out a silent and proud chuckle because I was more than ready for him. Our foreplay had started from the moment he decided to eye fuck me as soon as I showed up in the garden, and our little conversation was the sugar on the rim. He lowered his pants enough to pull out his cock and caressed my entrance with the tip, using his free hand to gently and slightly bend me over the bed.

And he tortured me like this for a few seconds that felt much longer to me, inserting just the tip, slowly going out and in again until I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore and he finally quickened the pace. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed him, all of him, and I moaned when he finally granted me my wish.

“Fuck…” He breathed out and just stayed inside of me while I adjusted to him.

Pedro grabbed me by the hips with a tight grip and started fucking me like I had been silently begging him to; Hard and fast and just making me his. His low grunts and his ragged breath were turning me on even more. One of his hands slid up my back until his fingers got lost in my hair and he grabbed a fistful as he kept pounding into me, but it moved down to my neck, prompting me to stand up straight as he wrapped his arms around my waist and one greedy hand cupped one of my breasts.

“Te gusta? (You like it?)”

I groaned. I loved it when he whispered things in Spanish in my ear, and adding the fact that we had to be as quiet as possible was driving me over the edge.

“Dime. (Tell me).”

“Yes.” I breathed out. “Pedro…”

He chuckled again, knowing what I was implying and begging for, and he nibbled my neck before whispering once more.

“Te quieres venir? (You want to cum?)” He asked even though he knew I was dying to cum. I could even hear his mischievous grin. “Vente, mi amor. (Cum, my love).”

The rhythm of his thrusts increased again and he held me tighter. My whole body tensed up, I could feel it, the tingling sensation slowly taking over until it possessed me whole, mind and soul. Pedro had to cover my mouth as I came undone in his arms, he held onto me for dear life and buried his face in the crook of my neck as he poured himself into me and let out a suffocated moan against my skin.

With relief washing over us, our heart rates began to settle, and our foreheads were covered with a thin layer of sweat.

As I freshened up and washed my face, I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered if that had been the last time for Pedro and I.

Perhaps we had said goodbye in the only way we knew how.

I entered the kitchen and poured myself a much needed glass of ice cold lemonade before I was joined by my fiancé.

“I think we should tell them.” Tom said while taking out a few more meat packages from the fridge.

“What?” I asked in a blissful yet lethargic daze.

“About our engagement.” He placed them on the counter.

He stood in front of me, waiting as if he was asking for permission and looked at my glass of lemonade which he ended up stealing to take a sip.

But when he looked down at my hand, he frowned.

“Where’s your ring?” He asked.

“Oh, I… I took it off when I washed my hands and must’ve left it in the bathroom.” I lied.

“Put it on.” He said.

It was all the same now, Pedro knew. So, I did as I was told for Tom to make the announcement in the garden. I heard the three C’s of celebration; clamoring, cheering, and clapping, but all I could see was Pedro sitting in the back, and when his brown eyes found mine, he just showed a cynical smile and raised his glass of whiskey, at me, the cheeky bastard who had just fucked the fiancée in the cheetah dress.

Or the cheater in the dress.

I was sure that Pedro was just as addicted to me as I was to him. Engagement or not, we just weren’t ready to stop. If anything, he craved me more fiercely than before, and that ring on my finger just turned him on even more.

We had only just begun.

I blinked several times as the arousing memory dissolved and I became aware of my surroundings.

I bit my lip and wondered if Pedro still thought of these encounters of ours. I asked myself if he missed me, if he thought about me, if he touched himself while doing so, if he envisioned me while fucking someone else. Or the possibility of an ugly truth where he had just moved on and I meant nothing, but then I remembered my wedding day and his drunken honesty.

Of course he fucking thought of me.

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 04

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader |  Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary:  Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Implied mental health struggles, anxiety and slight panic attack

Word Count: 2.9k 

< masterpost >

  »»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

  Another three days passing brought forth another fresh steaming pile of emotions. 

I was due to start my job at Bighit in the following week, and had been dropping in to meet with Bang PD and the staff regularly since the initial signing of the documents. Its only purpose was just for me to get to know everyone, since I would start off in the company playing a major role, and for me to get comfortable in the environment. PD-nim knew I was not used to working for such large and renowned companies, and I was so happy he had taken that into consideration.

Another meet-and-greet done today, and I was trembling. 

I didn’t know why it had all suddenly decided to drop on me now, but my only solace was the splash of vivid crimson sitting out in the otherwise monochrome carpark of the building. I yanked open the car door with shaking fingers and all but fell into the familiar leather seat, my breathing uneven from the tightening within my chest.

Don’t get me wrong at all, the company was absolutely amazing, and so were all the staff and their immediate hospitality. Bang PD was like a second father to me already, and I’d even had him ruffle my hair once today after he’d somehow managed to laugh at one of my jokes. His assistant, which I now knew as Chang Soojin, or just Soojin-unni as she had told me to use, was becoming a reliable colleague and friend pretty quickly too. I had met many members of the staff, including the co-ordi noonas, managers, stylists etc. Even a group of interpreters who specialised in specific languages.

Hence why they employed me so quickly, I’d thought to myself after finding out they only knew English and Korean.

There was that one Spanish interpreter, who had been absent on the ‘fateful day’, but he was now doing fine and had profusely apologised to me afterwards. I felt bad for the guy, as I probably seemed like a warning replacement if anything of disarray was to happen again.

Bighit can be bloody scary, damn.

My breathing had evened slightly, but stress was still causing my head to become a mess of jagged scribbles. So much had changed in my life recently, and even if it had an overall positive effect, my mind was still left reeling. This was the kind of sudden responsibility that made me want to revisit my childhood days, to let go of being an adult and to be surrounded by nothing but carefree bliss.

A light rapping on my car passenger window tore me from my strangling thoughts. I gasped, squinting my eyes to glimpse at the darkly clothed figure before sighing. The person had thoroughly frightened me, and I wasn’t very happy about it. They crouched down to look in, and when they saw I was making no move to stop them, they pulled open the passenger door hesitantly.

“Is this Uber operating?” Yoongi softly asked.

I was still irritated that my precious alone-time had been ruined, after going through quite a bit of anxiety about my life in general, but I couldn’t bring myself to refuse the impassive man at the moment. After even more thought, I concluded that having someone to talk to would in fact help me the most right now. When I nodded slowly, sighing again in an attempt to regather myself, he lowered his head in gentle understanding.

“Uh, if it’s a really bad time I-”

“No, Yoongi. Wait is it even okay to not use honorifics? Should I call you oppa?” I shook my head, my voice steadily gaining life again from how croaky it sounded before. I hadn’t cried, but I was definitely on the verge before he’d made his appearance.

Yoongi settled into the passenger seat holding a lidded coffee cup. He was dressed in dark but flowy clothing, and I questioned his sanity briefly considering how hot it was outside. It was mid-afternoon at the moment, but we both didn’t seem to have schedules planned.

“Even though I’m not against it, I feel like dropping the honorifics would work better for you. I won’t get offended,” he hummed, sipping his coffee. I noticed how tired his eyes were under the cap he wore, and instantly felt bad for being annoyed with him before. He adorned a black mask too, but it was sitting under his chin to make talking and drinking easier.

“Did you also want coffee? I could offer to get you one.”

His sudden question caused me to blink in confusion. Then I realised I had been eyeing the cup in his pale hands quite intensely. His dark eyes were blank and his pale blue-white hair was slightly roughened from the breeze outside. Trying not to fawn over him, I broke out into a strained chuckle while my hands came up to slap my cheeks in embarrassment.

“No no no, I wasn’t…Ah I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on at the moment.” I decided to let the cat out of the bag with another sigh. He may as well know what was going on behind my outwardly apparent emotions. I didn’t even know how I was meant to hold a decent conversation when my insides were such a nervous wreck. I knew I would build myself up again eventually, but he just happened to catch me at a vulnerable time.

“Yeah, I could tell,” he started. “I followed you out because I saw you running out here shaking like a leaf. I guess it sounds kind of creepy when put like that.” He shrugged, eyeing the dashboard of my car while I just tried to take in his quiet observation.

“No, actually I appreciate it. You haven’t even met me yet…ugh why am I doing everything backwards right now?” I rested my head onto the steering wheel, positively exasperated. Yoongi and I had never even held a conversation before, but here I was acting like a total idiot and making him worry about my mental health.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re all I hear about these days.” He sighs with a groan, letting his head roll back to rest against the leather headrest. My own curiosity was tickled.

“Really? Let me guess, ‘the crazy Uber chick who somehow managed to get herself involved with shit that didn’t concern her’?”

He laughed silently at that, the gummy smile melting my bundling insides into a puddle – and suddenly everything was alright.

I didn’t have to have everything in my life figured out right now, I just had to make the most of my time with these amazingly driven individuals who had undoubtedly captured my heart. Alongside this job which was actually my passion to begin with.

I didn’t even know how I hadn’t freaked out over the fact that the Min Yoongi, worldwide famous producer and rapper, was sitting in my car. He was sitting in the same seat the Park Jimin had sat in about a week and a half ago. I needed to shut down my brain before it began to burn a hole into the back of my skull from overworking.

“That would be funny, but no, definitely not. I just wish the young ones would let me sleep, but they’ve been excited. I swear I’ve already met you ten times at this point.”

I snort in amusement, absolutely loving how blunt he was about the whole situation. Too many people, since I had arrived in the country, were overbearingly polite and careful with their words. I was not used to it at all, and it made the ‘foreign’ experience all the more jarring. Yoongi probably understood this to an extent, so I was grateful he tried his best to be more casual right away.

“Look, can I start driving? I just need to clear my head a bit. Maybe I can introduce myself properly.” I exhaled loudly, my nerves significantly calmed since chatting a little. Even though I felt terrible at the thought, I couldn’t help but be grateful that it was Yoongi who had paid me a surprise visit instead of one of the others. His presence was somewhat reserved and I had trouble reading the guy half the time, but his company was the type I needed instead of something loud and overwhelming.

“Sure, I did kind of barge in so you can continue with whatever you were doing.”

You mean almost having a mental breakdown?

“But I do want to actually meet you, because if I have to hear your name around the dorm one more fucking time without knowing who you are, I may just snap.”

I laughed loudly, his grunt-worthy words causing amusement to roil around in my chest. I figured I would question him about exactly what was said a bit later. For now, I just needed to relax and ease my worries, and driving was my channel for exactly that. I started reversing out of the carpark with silence finally befalling the car, grateful to finally leave behind the line of black company vans surrounding me. I found it ominous if I was completely honest. Engulfed by the view of several identical black vans was a little unsettling when the only car I was used to was Red.

When did I even decide to name my car? It’s such a boring name too.

“Well, I can start by saying my name is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n) is fine, and you already known I don’t care for honorifics. I’m from (Y/c), and I landed a job at Bighit Entertainment by letting two of your band members hitch a ride. Ultimately escaping their foreseeable deaths.” My dramatic tone increased the longer I spoke, and I could see the corners of Yoongi’s lips turning up gradually.

“That sounds about right. Jiminie told me you were a big fan, but it turns out you are really collected when you see us. I appreciate your efforts, but feel free to let it out if you need.” He tilted his head with a smirk, his ‘Genius Suga’ persona surfacing within the span of two whole seconds. I just bit my lip to contain another amused giggle.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not one to freak out after the initial shock. Most of my extra-ness is of the internal type, I’m afraid.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment, eventually flashing me that endearing expression where his lips stretched across his whole face. I covered my cheeks with one hand to stop my bubbling amusement from erupting.

“Stop please, or I’ll crash!”

He simply sipped his coffee, smirking again at my reaction. I knew I hadn’t actually doused his ego, but his antics still aided in lifting my spirits higher and higher. As I tried to figure out where I wanted to drive, Yoongi pulled out a small notepad full of scrawled notes and scribbled out lines.

“Well, you already know who I am, that much I can guess. Now that we’ve met, I can tell those kids to shut up and do something useful,” he continued. Even though his tone was full of complaint, I knew he loved every single one of those boys wholeheartedly.

“Where are they now?” I asked through a smile, glancing down as the rapper flicked through his notepad to the page he had last used. “Practicing more, at least I know Jiminie, Jin-hyung and Jungkook-ah are. We’ve got a big concert and a comeback soon, so everyone is riled up.”

“Yeah, that seems like a packed schedule for at least a few months. I’m really excited for what you guys have in store though, it seems too unreal that I actually get to see everything behind the scenes for the first time in my life,” I sighed out in awe, thinking about a possible new album and new content. How could I even go about it normally when everything was different? Wait, was I going to get a discounted album? I surely hoped so.

Yoongi looked at me carefully before making a few notes in his notepad, his fingers working the pen deftly through long and hardened experience. His ripped black jeans were tighter than I initially thought they were, but my attention only went there because he was tapping his foot rhythmically as he wrote.

“Lyrics?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow in his direction and diverting my attention. I drove towards the outskirts of Seoul, hoping to find somewhere quiet and peaceful to settle for a bit. The time had essentially flown by, but I was sure the sky wouldn’t darken just yet.

“Yeah, just the usual. I help write a lot of songs, and lyrics always just flood into my brain at the most random times, you know?” he murmured, flicking backwards to another page and filling in another empty space.

The realisation that I was driving somewhere random and unknown hit me suddenly, and I briefly wondered if taking Yoongi with me would end up costing me my job all too soon. I was quickly reminded of a similar occurrence with two maknaes, one that caused the managers and Namjoon to lose their absolute marbles.

“Um, I was gonna drive randomly around the area, but I just realised that your managers would skin me alive if they knew I took you with me. Does anyone know you’re with me?”

Yoongi looked up, his eyes, which were once laser-focused on his lyrics, now scoured into my own and I gulped suddenly. His long, dark eyelashes were always beautiful, but they were even more mesmerising in person and this close. They contrasted so nicely against his milky skin that I almost lost focus on the road again.

I may just crash and kill someone one of these days. Customer or not.

“I texted a few people,” was all he said before returning to his notepad, and I shrugged indifferently. He was an adult, and he could make his own decisions. I just hoped I didn’t cop any roastings for it later on.

“Would I be able to show you something?” he then asked.

I glanced sideways, catching him picking at his nails with his teeth apprehensively. It seemed he was stuck on something to do with a lyric, but I didn’t know how I could possibly lend a hand. His lyrics were always so impactful and flowed so nicely. How could I form my own opinion when everything I’d heard from him so far was nothing less than beautiful?

“Yeah? Did you need another perspective?” I probed, willing my feelings of disbelief down into the depths of my subconscious.

“Well, I’m trying to tie together my verse in one of the new songs, and I almost have it. I want someone fresh to have a look.” He held out the pad and I pulled over onto the side of the smaller road. We were now definitely nearing the more ‘picturesque’ side of Seoul anyway, and the city fell away behind us as my eyes scanned over Yoongi’s handwriting. The last line struck a chord deeply within me.

“This is real you, and this is real me” – which one is “you”? Which one is “me”?

“Wow, this really hits hard,” I breathe, reading over the snippets of the verse he had written again to fully absorb what was going on. The whole thing was emotional, and raw. I could imagine his voice rapping hard to form these thoughts, the angry and hurt emotions seeping in.

“I can feel the struggle through the lyrics. It’s like you’ve been through a false love that you threw yourself into after believing it was true...a betrayal of sorts, I guess?” I met his eyes again and grew a little confused when a chuckle of irony fell from him. It must have been some joke I didn’t understand.

“I’m glad you feel so much from it.” He blinked. “I’m actually going to try a different technique with this track, so expect some changes from my usual style.”

He then smiled again, taking the notepad before I could catch any glimpses of the other notes. I couldn’t contain a soft huff of annoyance. “You’re not just gonna tell me?”

He deadpanned before parting his lips to respond. “Just because you work for Bighit doesn’t mean you get every special privilege.” I almost reeled at the thought of bothering him with my question, but he only smiled again while tucking his notepad away.

“Plus, you’re a fan, so my goal is to keep it a secret for as long as possible.”

“Mean,” I grunted, pulling out onto the road again so I could start to head home. The sky was darkening, and I knew there were only so many boundaries I could push before I crossed the line. Yoongi seemed to know this too, but he avoided addressing the subject for some reason.

“Where do you want to be dropped? I’ll have you know I’ve been charging you handsomely for this Uber service,” I muttered, still pretending to be pissed off at him for hiding information.

“I’ll buy you a coffee next time, I promise.”

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​

[purplesurveys]

1043

survey by egooverdose

Japan: What is one stereotype you associate with Asian countries/people? :/ :/ Uhm...

Jelly Bracelets: Do you have any? In which colors? Have you ever broken one? I seem to have forgotten what these refer to, but I’m sure I had a couple that didn’t last long. I wasn’t much into bracelets as a kid. Joakim Berg: Who is your favorite foreign singer|musician? Do you translate his or her lyrics? Beyoncé, I guess. All Americans are foreigners to me. I don’t translate her lyrics, nor do I do that with any other songs in English.

Josh Todd: Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what made you decide to get them? No, but I’d love a couple that symbolize important things or people, like a bowl of nachos for Nacho and each of my dogs’ pawprints.

kent: Say something in a foreign language? The word ‘kampana’ is Filipino for bell.

Kundera: What is one philosophy you have regarding life|living|purpose? Idk, I’m starting from scratch after the shitstorm that was this year. I have to find one again. I’m not rushing, though, and I want to give myself as long as I need to regather. Fuck knows I need to be kind to myself right now.

Learning: What is something you enjoy learning about? Off the top of my head, anything that doesn’t involve machines tbh. I can read about anything Wikipedia and encyclopedias have to offer, but I draw the line at factories and automobiles and engineering and robots and stuff lmao, it’s just not my thing.

Minimalist Interior Design: How would you design the inside of your own home? You already mentioned it; minimalist. I don’t want a lot of furniture and a lot of color in my space. I’d be happy with a minimal number of items organized in a meaningful way with some pastel shades here and there.

Miserable Weather: What is a weather-type that you like that not many others do? Thunderstorms, I guess? It’s been a hit or miss for me these days though; I’ve found myself crying more when it rains...but for the longest time I’ve enjoyed bleak and rainy weather. I’m not planning to drop it as my favorite just yet.

Morning: Are you friendly in the morning, or are you barely awake? I’m friendly at work from the start to the end of my shift because it’s the nice thing to do, and because I have to be. But I’m almost always anxious and on the brink of breaking down every morning. Since it’s WFH, no one from work has to know that.

Music: How important is music in your life? It’s slowly becoming significant again. I got a Spotify subscription for myself after years of sharing with Gab’s account lol, so I’ve been revisiting the music that I had to set aside for months while I had to grieve on my own. It was brutal the first few days and I cried a lot when I heard my go-to sad songs again, but I soon realized I need releases like that and so I’ve been a little more unafraid to listen to music each day.

Oasis: What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Paramore? HAHAHAHA they were the first band I ever loved, man. And I’m happy I get to say I still very much love them.

Opinions: Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. Abortion being wrong|right, Meat-eating being wrong|right)? If it’s the kind of opinion that will step on fundamental human rights, like being vehemently against same-sex marriage, then we will have a problem. Otherwise, I don’t care if someone prefers Android or having pineapples on their pizza unless they’re being an asshole about it.

Orchids: What is your favorite type of flower? Does it grow where you live? Peonies. Idk, I guess so? I don’t speak flowers.

Outerspace: Do you think there's a possibility of life out there? There sure is; the universe is so vast. I wish we’re able to learn more in this lifetime, though; I wouldn’t want to miss out on future discoveries.

Photo-Editing: Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Sometimes I’ll add a cute or flattering filter; that’s the furthest my editing skills go. I don’t use advanced applications like Photoshop and I don’t know how to remove moles or stray hairs or whatever.

Photography: If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? I’m not into photography per se, like it’s not a hobby of mine or anything; but I do like taking photos of special or funny events. It’s nice to have a memento for a little bit of everything going on in my life.

Poland: Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Yes. Maybe not Norway or Finland levels of cold, but somewhere considerably cooler than the humid hot mess I currently live in. When I went to Jeju four Aprils ago, they had the p e r f e c t temperature I could ever ask for and it was sooooo perfectly and comfortably cold in that I got to walk around in shorts but I never shivered or got goosebumps.

Potatoes: What is your absolute favorite food? It used to be burgers, but my mom has been making so many cheeseburgers the last few weeks that I need to take a break from them lol. Right now, my favorite would be sushi.

Questions: Do you like to ask questions, or answer them? Answer them, hence this blog.

Quirks: What are some weird things about you? Depends on what you count as weird. By far, people have been weirded out the most by the fact that I don’t eat fruits and will avoid them like the plague. I don’t mind the reactions and it’s actually turned out to be a great icebreaker, so I whip out that factoid pretty often haha.

Quizzes: When was the last time you were tested on something? I had a blood test last May because we needed to know if my fever was dengue or something else. Turned out to be a UTI.

Radiohead: Do you like any depressing bands? After Laughter is sad as shit but I wouldn’t say Paramore is generally known by this image. None of the other bands I listen to would count as ‘depressing.’

Rings: How would you describe the size of your fingers? They’re long and slender, which I love.

Satire: Do you enjoy political satire? It’s a hit or miss. I generally don’t seek it out.

Singing: Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? Leigh.

Skinny Jeans: Would you wear them? Or do you hate them? I wear them, but I hate them. 

Smashing Pumpkins: Listen to the band, or take it literally and actually GO smash pumpkins? xD Neither.

Snakes: Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? I used to wear leather shoes because it was required for school. I avoid the practice now.

Snow: What, to you, is the best part about snow|snowy weather? You tell me, lol. I’ve never experieinced snow before.

Space: Do you like to have your own space? Are you independent? It’s definitely important to have it every now and then; I’m actually taking this survey from a Starbucks because I needed so baddddd to get out of the house. It’s the first time I’m out on my own without having to do errands since March, and it feels kinda nice.

As for being independent, I’ve been mostly a dependent person and I like having people to lean on, but my breakup has also been pushing me out of my comfort zone and to try out new things just by myself. We’ll see where this takes me in a few months.

Starry Nights: When was the last time you gazed at the night sky? Last Saturday.

Stockholm: What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Do I really have to go to another country for this? Hahahahaha idk maybe Shanghai? The people there were dressed so well when I visited.

Studded Belts: Do you own any? What do you think of them? Nope.

Suave Shampoo: What is your favorite shampoo scent? Brand? I don’t have a preference for either. As long as it’s able to clean my hair, it’s fine.

Sunglasses: What kind do you own|wear, if any? Do you like them? I don’t really. I don’t like my vision getting tinted.

Surveys: How many surveys do you think you have taken since you've started? My old survey blog has nearly 1500 while this one has a little over 1000, then add what’s probably a few hundreds that I did in 5th grade but never saved anywhere...so maybe somewhere between 2500 to 2700 in total? Hahaha I honestly thought it would be more.

Sweden: Do you ever feel like you should have been born in another country? I think nearly everyone from the Philippines thinks this.

Swedish Fish: What is a candy you often enjoy? Gummy anything.

Tea: Do you like tea more than coffee, or the other way around? I love coffee; I’m drinking one right now :D I never enjoyed tea.

The Beatles: My brother gets mad if people say they aren't the best band ever; what about you? Then I guess I shouldn’t be talking to him.

Theories: What do you think will happen to you after you die? Sleep.

Thom Yorke: If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him|her? If we were in a Covid-free society, all I’d ask for is a hug, really. I wouldn’t have anything to ask them.

Thought: What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I’m still grieving about the stuff I’ve already covered.

Thought-Provoking Conversation: What do you consider deep? This would be a little hard to verbalize and I don’t really feel like describing rn. I guess you can say this question in itself is deep, ha.

Tokyo: Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Aw man what an innocent question. I wish I could show this survey-maker what a trainwreck 2020 has been and how ‘busy places’ virtually don’t exist anymore, at least for now.

Unpretentious Gestures: If someone pays you a compliment, do you take it to heart, or do you pass it off as just flattery? I take it to heart, but I’m not always able to receive it well.

Video Games: Do you think they cause people to become violent? No. I spent my childhood going on killing rampages on GTA and I’m still unlikely to resort to violence.

Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? The term ‘low latency.’ 

Warsaw: What is a funny fact about your heritage? Good question, but I can’t think of any at the moment. I don’t really think ‘funny’ when I look for facts to absorb but now I want to look this up haha.

Web Design: Have you or could you build your own site? My principal requirement for my Online Journalism class was to make my own website/blog, actually. But Covid blew up and we ended up having to cancel the entire semester altogether, so my classmates and I never got to pursue more of that class other than our first few meetings, which were used for lectures.

Winter: How long|cold are winters in your area? It does not even exist.

Words: How many pages of words do you think you type a day? Maybe like 5 or 6. It’s a WFH set-up, so I’m exclusively on the laptop typing away the entire week.

Writing: Do you try to avoid it, or do you embrace it? I embrace it as long as I don’t have to write fiction or prose. I like writing, but only through journals and surveys.

[remys-lucky-franc]

The Language of Love: A Queen of Thieves Fic - Remy x MC (Daisy)

Notes: a short Fic inspired by a Tumblr post I read and laughed at but can no longer find! It talked about the subtleties of language and how difficult getting the context and translation right can be when it’s not your native tongue, and how the mistakes can be funny and cringey.

Word count: ~900

Warnings: pretty fluffy tbh nothing warning-worthy

[[MORE]]

Even though Remy’s English was perfect and his Spanish was exceptionally good, Daisy had decided to learn French. Properly. Not just enough to order coffees and pastries in the stilted tourist conversational French she had been scraping by with since arriving in Paris. They were married now, so it seemed like the right and natural thing to do, plus Daisy wanted to understand exactly what those sweet words her new husband whispered in her ear between the sheets meant... She felt her cheeks begin to flush at the thought... Initially she wanted it to be a surprise, but the more time she spent listening to Rosetta Stone wearing earphones as she painted, the more she realised that if she ever wanted to excel at it, she needed to practice. With a real person. And who better than her very real, very French husband?

Daisy had assumed it would be easier to learn French than it was proving. ‘It shouldn’t be too hard; it’s a Romance language just like Spanish!’ she’d enthused to Leon when she told him about her plan before she downloaded the app to her phone. Both used grammatical gender in the same way, you just had to use ‘la, le, les’ rather then ‘la, el, los’ in Spanish she explained... Many French words share their roots in Latin the same way as Spanish, and some were even spelled the same way or at least the similarities were enough that she could guess: like ‘the sea’ - ‘el mar’ in Spanish, ‘la mer’ in French... But what Daisy had quickly discovered was that while she could take a good guess and understand a lot of what was written down, the accent and speed of the spoken language made it much more difficult to link the languages and she would get lost pretty fast...

—-

Remy’s eyes twinkled as he beamed at his wife, wiggling his eyebrows,

“Of course, I’ll help you learn the language of love, ma Cherie!”

Daisy thumped his arm playfully, rolling her eyes,

“I wanted to surprise you but I need to have real conversations! Not just, ‘mon père travaille dans une banque’...”

Remy’s nose scrunched,

“I didn’t know your father works at a bank?”

Daisy huffed out a frustrated breath as she answered him,

“He doesn’t, it was the closest thing I seen on the app...”

Remy chuckled as he wrapped his fingers around Daisy’s, squeezing lightly,

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

—-

Remy was true to his word: every day they set aside a minimum of forty-five minutes to study. He’d really embraced the role of ‘language professor’: he’d appear in serious looking square-rimmed glasses with a topical lesson plan each time - transport, food, animals... He’d even created little tests for the end of his class to see what they needed to revisit... Daisy almost died of cuteness when he beamed at her and stuck a gold star on her notepad.

Randomly during the day he would suddenly switch to speaking in French, and Daisy was amazed how quickly she went from looking at him blankly to being able to understand almost everything, albeit he would slow down for her. She felt her confidence start to grow with the more she understood, which Remy had told her would certainly help with her spoken language skills. He would leave it to her to order for them in cafes and converse with the staff to help her practice. He was proud of her progress: the answers were becoming less textbook and flowed much more naturally.

—-

Daisy’s nose crinkled as she answered Remy,

“You’re sure I’m ready for that?”

Remy shrugged,

“I have every confidence in you, ma Cherie! Clemance is delighted that we will join them!”

Clemance had invited them both to her new apartment, a housewarming party, with many other friends, most of whom were French. Remy had accepted the invite immediately knowing that it would be a great place for his wife to practice with various different accents. Plus, Clemance had always thrown fantastic parties!

—-

“Je suis excitée!!” Daisy exclaimed.

Remy stopped, straw still at his lips, one arm wrapping around her, interjecting warmly,

“Ma Cherie, elle est joyeuse.”

Daisy jerked her head to look at him, puzzled, ‘I know what I mean, I’m excited about the party, I don’t mean joyful, I mean excited!’, her free hand found a place to rest on Remy’s chest, patting it as she spoke again, asserting herself,

“Non... Je suis excitée! Pas ‘joyeux’? Je suis trés excitée!”

The young couple opposite gave Daisy a strange smile before making their excuses to go mingle with the other guess. She raised an eyebrow at Remy,

“Weird?”

Remy’s hand found the small of her back as he gently guided her out to the balcony,

“‘Je suis excitée’ doesn’t mean what you think it means, ma reveuse... You just told Clemance’s cousin and his wife that you are horny... Very horny...”

Daisy’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she felt her face flood with colour,

“I insisted... And I touched your chest when I said it. Oh god... They probably thought I was propositioning them!!”

Remy teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he desperately tried not to dissolve into giggles,

“Daisy... Ma Cherie please don’t be embarrassed! Why do you think the expression ‘faux pas’ comes from French?!”

[lilyjcollins-news]

Lily Collins - Carita Rizzo.

Usually the words “celebrity” and “unfiltered” indicate a series of explicit photos, the involvement of a tabloid magazine and a juicy exposé. Not for Lily Collins. The 27-year-old (turning 28 on March 18) English-American actress’ first book, Unfiltered: No Shame, No Regrets, Just Me. ($14, Harper Collins), which releases March 7, is an honest look at the person behind the public persona and the glamour of the silver screen. But those salivating at the thought of behind-the-scenes gossip may want to simmer down. This is not a tell-all. In her debut essay collection, the actress pens a poignant, honest conversation about things young women struggle with, including body image, self-confidence and relationships. Nevertheless, Collins has jitters. “I’m anxious,” admits the petite actress, looking impeccable in black Paige jeans, Stuart Weitzman suede boots and a loose white Tularosa top.

Her nerves are understandable. The last time we chatted with Collins about her award-nominated turn in Warren Beatty’s Rules Don’t Apply, she said: “Keep private whatever you hold dear,” a reasonable mantra in a celebrity-obsessed world where privacy is hard to come by. Now, she’s about to willingly open the door to some of her deepest secrets, from her yearslong battle with eating disorders to an emotionally abusive relationship.

“I still believe that,” she says, when reminded of her mantra. “But these are things that I felt I wanted to put out there. Not necessarily so people know that I experienced them, but to create, hopefully, a space for more open conversation about the topics I discuss.” And some things are still off limits: “When I talk about relationships, I don’t reveal any details about it or names because that is not important. That was not the point of why I was going there.”

Collins’ life has certainly appeared charmed from its inception. The daughter of English musician Phil Collins and American Jill Tavelman was born in England and moved to Los Angeles at the age of 6. Collins has always been a self-starter. She cold-called magazine editors as a teenager, which landed her a column in ELLE Girl UK, and initially pursued a career in broadcast journalism before her role in The Blind Sidetook her on a different path. Leading roles in Mirror Mirror; Love, Rosie; and The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones followed, but it is in the past year or so that Collins’ career has really hit its stride, with Rules Don’t Apply (for which she received a Golden Globe nomination); the upcoming Amazon series The Last Tycoon, based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s last book about 1930s Hollywood; the Netflix original film Okja, in which she stars alongside Jake Gyllenhaal and Tilda Swinton; and To the Bone, which premiered in January at Sundance to rave reviews and was purchased by Netflix for $8 million. Even her colleagues can’t stop gushing over her. “She’s very much in charge of her life and her professional life in a way that I think is really admirable,” says her Rules Don’t Apply co-star Annette Bening, who refers to Collins as a “badass” who “has her sh*t together.”

Yet despite a successful career and her Audrey Hepburn-ish looks, the actress was anxious to reveal she is susceptible to the same feelings of inadequacy and insecurity as the young women who look up to her. “What really inspired me to write the book is that I was getting all these young girls interacting with me on my Instagram, and they would tell me their stories about what they’d gone through, but they would always add in there that they didn’t think I could understand because I’m an actress,” she says. “And I thought, ‘Oh, my God. You have no idea.’”

Collins understands them better than most. Her intense struggle with body image started at age 16 and continued in ebbs and flows for 10 years. And right as she was revisiting her own harrowing journey with eating disorders for the sake of sharing her story, To the Bone—Marti Noxon’s script about an anorexic girl confronting her addiction—happened to come her way. “When I read the script, and I knew what the story was about, there was a slight hesitation at first because it’s something that’s very close to me,” says Collins. “You have to re-enter that mindset.”

In the end, her deep understanding of this character won out and the ability to revisit the struggles of her youth with the help of a nutritionist and a support system is an experience Collins calls “the best form of therapy.” She adds: “I think most people will assume the movie experience was probably hell, and it wasn’t at all. It was one of the most fun, freeing experiences I’ve had. Within playing Ellen, I got to come to terms with a lot myself. That was a proud moment for me.”

Collins also credits her ambassadorship with Lancôme as grounding her among an incredible set of women, including Kate Winslet, Julia Roberts, Lupita Nyong’o, Penélope Cruz and Isabella Rossellini. “It’s the most inspiring group of women,” she says. “We do amazing work with making women feel good in their own skin and enhancing their inner beauty.” Collins is grateful the company’s message encourages what she has always been passionate about encouraging within young women.

Admittedly, the hardest chapter for Collins to put down on paper is the one in which she sheds light on a long-term relationship during which she experienced an incredible amount of emotional abuse. “For a long time, I wanted to shy away from talking about that experience,” she admits. “But it’s a part of my story, and it’s a part of how I interact in relationships with friends, with family and in romantic situations. And to write all that stuff down, and to then say it out loud, made it so much more real. And it actually made me feel strong because I’d moved through that, and I’d moved past that. And I’ve learned so much more about myself and about what I deserve or how I deserve to be treated.”

She offers no details on who this man might be, but hints that any cross-referencing with her public relationships might be a fruitless exercise. “It’s funny because I think everyone’s going to assume certain people I talk about are famous people, but they’re not,” she says. “Just because I kept people anonymous doesn’t mean that people would have known who they were anyway.”

There is, however, one man in her life she cannot keep anonymous. “I couldn’t not talk about my parents in this story, obviously,” she smiles. In her book, Collins reveals to readers that her father’s absence took a toll on their relationship. “It’s hard when that person isn’t around a lot,” she says. “I have amazing memories of being able to travel and being able to have family all over the world. Were there things that would have been nice probably to experience as a family? Of course. But it didn’t happen that way. And I’m me for a reason. I mean, everything that happened made me who I am.”

Collins addresses these feelings in an emotional letter addressed to her father. “That was a hard chapter to write because he is public. It’s a weird situation to be in, to be writing about someone that people already know, but they don’t know my experience with [him],” she says. “I am just a daughter talking to her dad, and I think that a letter felt appropriate because it can be translated to any relationship with daughters and dads. As a girl, you always want them to see you as their little girl, and you’re always going to need them and want them. And even if you say you don’t, you really do.”

It feels oddly comfortable delving so deep into one somber topic after another with the actress, perhaps because Collins radiates such peace with herself. Hers is a lesson that even the seemingly most impenetrable package comes with some fragility. After opening up about her experiences, Collins says she feels truly unleashed. “I think it’s allowed me to let go a lot more,” she admits. “I kept hearing from certain directors or people in my life, ‘You should just let go more. Let go more.’ And I said, ‘What does that mean? I am free!’ or ‘I am letting go!’ But I realized I was holding on to a lot. And the second I put it out there, I could just kind of live and breathe in the moment.”

She now dreams of starting a family, but is in no rush—especially since there is currently no man in the picture. “I’m in a relationship with myself,” she quips. “I think a lot of young girls should do that. I think it’s important to figure out you and to have fun and to be dating and to figure out what you like and what you don’t like. It’s what growing up is all about.”

Besides, right now, her focus is on work and living life to the fullest. “I want to keep doing what I love to do,” she says. “Last year, I would never have said, ‘This year, I’m going to shoot a TV pilot, three movies and finish a book.’ Never, would I ever have thought it was possible. So I want to keep being terrified to try new things. That’s what pushes you beyond your limits—and to never take any of it for granted.”

Photography by Andrew Eccles | Styling by Jordan Johnson and Jill Lincoln//Photo Assistants: Jason Johnson and Tarik Richards | Digital Tech: Maxwell Tiggas.

vía caritarizzo.

[hiddennikki]

I think this post contains spoilers. So, if you haven’t read/seen Call Me By Your Name (uhh, why tho), I suggest you click out. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

I don’t even know where to start. So let me just say that while I was about to watch the film, I figured maybe it would hurt a little less since I’ve already read the book. I knew what was going to happen, and had my fair share of heartache and tears. But boy, was I wrong.

I am a sucker for sad love stories. And it’s been a while since I came across one that I liked this much. It reminded me of a time when I was falling in love for the first time, when I had no idea how to calm the butterflies in my stomach. It’s funny how I can see myself in Elio’s shoes, but at the same time envy him for having the courage to reach out, speak your heart, and love with no boundaries. I wish I knew the risks and consequences that came with falling in love, at such a young age. It just made me see how beautifully love flows once you know nothing was forced, when everything just comes together naturally. Call Me By Your Name is by far the most painful one I’ve seen, yet I still find myself watching it over and over again.

Elio and Oliver. Timothée and Armie. It’s amazing how it felt like the characters “Elio” and “Oliver” chose Timothée and Armie to play them on screen. It’s more than just chemistry, I’m telling you, there’s just something so real between the two of them that makes the entire film more authentic. Oliver is exactly how I imagined him to be: handsome, smart, breathtaking, sexy, and well, sexy. I just can’t stop staring at his face, goddammit! I can’t blame Elio for falling for such a guy, I mean in the words of Timothée: “Who wouldn’t fall in love with this guy [right here]?!” And let us not forget the beauty that is Elio. So innocent, raw, delicate, sweet, and gives me peace. I also can’t blame Oliver for falling in love. The look on his face, the sound of his voice, and the way he carries himself...just perfect. He gives Elio so much colour and truly is heaven sent. Crazy how believable they were in this film. Something about the characters are so beautiful and true, there is zero chance of you not noticing it.

This film was a feast for the eyes. I envy filmmakers who look at any place as if it were a photograph ready to be taken at any moment. It brought my imagination to life. Like someone was narrating inside my head and the words are being translated into the visuals shown in front of me. Like every corner was a story waiting to be told. It feels like this film was made under the best set of circumstances any film could ever hope for, or at least that’s how it felt while I was watching it. Everything just worked together so beautifully, it’s almost impossible for me to get over it.

Reading the book and watching the film are two different set of experiences. I’m glad I was given the chance to experience both, and would take them with me forever. I’d keep it in a small box, carry it in my heart, and revisit the memory every once in a while. But mostly during times of doubt and helplessness. The emotions are just so damn real, intimate, and true. It gives you hope and pain, and takes you back to a time when all that mattered in this world was love.

I’ve been trying to write this for days now and couldn’t fully get a hold of everything, so I’ve decided to just make sub-posts on my favourite scenes instead (jk, the entire film is MY FAVOURITE SCENE):

Piano

“I like the way you say things...”

Nosebleed

Midnight

“Why didn’t you give me a sign?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Mystery of Love

That conversation with Papa

Phone Call

Okay, I know this looks a lot but I REALLY NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS FILM. And I literally could go on for hours just telling you how much I love Call Me By Your Name. I may have said “beautiful” 500 times in this post but I don’t care. It’s really just plain beautiful for me. But yeah, Mom’s calling, and says we have to go. So ya, I’ll go talk some other time (I’m really excited, tho). Later!

[roarbeast]

I’m back!

I would like to share with you the story of a health issue I have recently overcome, and of which I am currently coming out the other side.

Over the past several years, I've fallen into depression. The whole thing started in 2012 or somewhere near. I have never been very in touch with my emotions, and depression is described as more of a numbness than sadness -- so it was not something that was remotely apparent to me.

What I did notice is that I was unable to focus or get things done. I would rearrange my task list, I would try to make tasks more fun, I would deliberately take some time off and try to relax -- but none of it seemed to have any sort of positive affect.

Eventually it reached the point where instead of managing to scrape a couple hours of work out of a week, any time I sat down I would be have to push through this nebulous black wall of … something. It wasn't apathy, disinterest, hate, paranoia, or even anxiety. I was paying attention at this point, and I don't have a word to describe it. It was just some kind of wall of black mist that would push back at me harder than I pushed at it.

It reached the point where no matter how hard I forced my will against it, I would get surrounded and overwhelmed by it and have to call a retreat. By this point I had set a deadline for myself. If I was unable to complete the project I was working on, I would see a doctor and figure out what was going on. It was a month before the deadline still when I realized that this simply wasn't going to work, and was not something I could solve myself through force of will.

While I may not have known exactly what was going on, based on the symptoms it seemed like depression was the culprit. The doctor agreed, and while it took me about six months to admit it really was depression to myself, we started up some antidepressants.

I am not a fan of mind-altering drugs in any form. I don't even like painkillers because they can make me cloudy. But I was at the point where I needed a way out, and while SSRIs have a laundry list of side effects and are questionable in their efficacy, it was something, and I had to try something.

The side effects were awful.

When I first read the list, I laughed at the "yawning" side effect. Then I got it, and it was not funny anymore. It was like an itch you couldn't scratch. My jaw almost ached, like just before you yawn, but yawning gained no relief. Fortunately that one subsided after a couple weeks.

For any SSRI, there's a 20% chance of causing insomnia. I had always thought that insomnia meant you just couldn't fall asleep. I didn't realize it meant you could sleep 12 hours, and then wake up tired because the sleep wasn't effective.

Normally when you sleep your body paralyzes itself. The SSRI broke some of that, and when I would dream of some actions, my body would take that action. Sometimes they were big things, like trying to leap over a pit, and I'd be snapped awake as my legs shot straight and tore my covers off. Most of the time it was small things. Gestures, pivots, whatever, that wouldn't fully wake me up, but would knock me out of deep sleep. I assume that's the case, since if I wasn't deeply sleeping, they would wake me up.

Worst of all, since I was tired all the time, my safeguards kept failing. A lot of people seem to have it easy socially. If they want to talk to people, they do. There are only a few people I can honestly just sit down and talk to. Normally to engage others I have to filter everything I say through an emotion translator, or have several layers of checks on whether this is something that's appropriate or not to say.

Here is a relatable example, so people don't think I'm a terrible person. Say someone is complaining about difficulties in their life. Being me, I might notice that there's a single point of failure going on -- the cause of all of these problems. "Solving their problem," while it's what I would want people to do for me, generally doesn't help them at all. Generally a sob story is about emotional venting or receiving pity, not about solving problems. Because people are weird. But I'll play their game.

My filters also help me logically eliminate a lot of talking points. I tend to look at the big picture, and work in a top-down way through a logical pyramid. But if their education, experience, history, and interests can eliminate the top 10 levels of the pyramid, and all of the topic's cousins except for a few, I can jump in and participate in the conversation without asking 20 clarification questions.

With those bits broken, I can say some stupid stuff, confuse others, and even horribly offend them. Which I did. Which really sucks.

I started on the antidepressants about a year ago. I also started seeing a counselor. I was able to trace the source of the depression, realize what was wrong with those ideas, and reclassify some events in my personal history.

While the full story of what caused the depression and what I fixed has several personal elements I'm not willing to share, I'm happy to share the big picture.

I found a "dream job" relatively early in life that promised to be at least moderately lucrative. I pursued it, but failed to produce enough lucre over the long term to sustain myself. I interpreted this financial failure to mean that my dream was dead.

The whole timeline was slow enough that it wasn't obvious without stepping back and looking at the big picture. However, after I got towards the end of it, I was stuck in a pit and could not see the big picture anymore.

In reality, the financial issue was primarily a marketing problem. The projects were as innovative and well crafted as I planned them to be. The customers loved them, and sales were high. The primary difference, extremely obvious in hindsight, is that the initial product consisted of three items that could be bought, while following products consisted of only one. The sales of the single products were comparable to the sales of one of the original three, illustrating their success.

So here I am on the other side, currently weaning off the antidepressants. Apparently they have another set of gnarly side effects when you get off them. But it's been a year since I've actually slept and woken up rested, so if I can get that, things will be much better.

Interestingly enough, the thing that really motivated me to move forward was revisiting my dream job. I feel the most important thing regarding revisiting failures is to make something new, rather than try to recreate the past. So this is a sequel, not a reboot.

Life is hard, but I'm doing ok now. I'm ok.

[waringout-blog]

The Most Important & Definitive MCU Ranking, Probably

Come one, come all, and witness my subjective attempt at objectivity! The Marvel Cinematic Universe, whether appreciated or disavowed by fan or critic, is an ever present entry into the canon of film history and the cultural zeitgeist. With multiple MCU films releasing every single year between now and the end of time, there is no denying the sway these films hold over the Western cultural conscience and the conversations about the film industry, art, and fandom that they encourage. I have found in creating my ranking of the Marvel Cinematic Universe that list-making is an ephemeral practice in the subjective. Better yet, my making of this list has been a Sisyphean practice in futility, as I constantly revise these rankings based on the Marvel movie I’ve most recently viewed, or upon hearing a rousing argument from a friend, or some such constraint on my ability to establish objectivity in my arbitrary designations. Thus, I invite you to be my editors through this endless struggle. Here is my proposed draft of the MCU films, ranked from worst to best. Obviously, revision will be necessary as time moves ever onward, but if I am blatantly incorrect please let me know and we will collaborate together on some sort of truth in this cynical world. 

15) Thor: The Dark World

14) Iron Man 2

13) The Incredible Hulk

12) Iron Man 3

11) Avengers: Age of Ultron

10) Thor

9) Captain America: The First Avenger

8) Ant-Man

7) Doctor Strange

6) Captain America: Civil War

5) Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is an endearingly warm film that returns to the cast of misfits that shattered the Marvel movie-making model. I’ve written about the film at length here, so I’ll keep the details brief. GotG Vol. 2 offers delightful moments of character and light-heartedness that is purely joyful. This movie is among the best that the MCU has to offer, and James Gunn, the director, continues to bring instinctive innovation to the superhero genre through wit, charm, and bad-assery. The Guardians of the Galaxy films nestle seamlessly between episodic space opera, a groovy soundtrack, and the most out-of-leftfield, off-beat superheroes that any studio has dreamed of. I left the screening of GotG Vol. 2 full of adrenaline and the largest, cheesiest grin beheld upon an apathetic college student’s face.

4) Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Captain America is the MCU’s most iconic superhero among its current roster. In 2008, Robert Downey Jr’s Iron Man was the catalyst of this growing film universe and a symbol of all that is excellent of that which followed. Unfortunately, the Iron Man sequels set precedent for the lack of imagination and/or execution that has defined MCU sequels (most will argue in favor of Iron Man 3, but I was largely unimpressed and haven’t revisited it since the first time). Robert Downey Jr. remains grounded as the inimitable Tony Stark, but unfortunately his charm is unable to sustain the unsavory sequels. This is not the case for Captain America, whose films continue to supersede the original one. Captain America: The Winter Soldier is bold and exciting, giving the audience an engaging plot, magnificent characters, and some of the most stylized and provocative action sequences within the MCU. While Captain America is often one-dimensional as an individual, his inclusion in the Avengers helps anchor the entire series. Everything that the character represents is reflected upon his fellow heroes and pushes them beyond what they are ordinarily capable of. It is Cap’s lack of cynicism, apathy, or arrogance that also inspires the audience to be better versions of themselves. Robert Downey Jr. laid the foundation of success upon which the MCU was built, but it is Captain America’s shadowing presence that bolsters it.

3) Iron Man

I continually return to the word iconic because it represents how the MCU has infiltrated the American consciousness through their ability to embed themselves within the cultural zeitgeist. This relevance is created in moments of gravity and inspiration so profound they cannot be ignored. Marvel Studio’s creation of Iron Man and their decision to cast Robert Downey Jr. brought about the emergence of a new brand of filmmaking and iconicized superhero movies forever. Marvel Studios, under the guiding vision of Kevin Feige, set upon tempered waters by taking one of their lesser known characters (one of the few they still retained movie rights for) and turning him into the foundation of their franchise. Feige set out to emulate comic books by creating serialized movies for audiences to track with and enjoy, as they attempted to streamline these heroes’ stories into an overarching narrative. At the time, there was no precedent for this type of universe building. The producers, working for the nominally independent Marvel Studios, were staking their claim in the tepid milieu of superhero filmmaking. The fact that Robert Downey Jr., a recovering addict humbly working his way back into the goodwill of Hollywood, acted as the impetus propelling the property into what it is today was an outlandish gamble. This bold vision paid off though, and Iron Man was both a financial and critical success. Nowadays, Iron Man and Robert Downey Jr. are synonymous with the MCU. This is most evident in Iron Man’s inclusion in both Captain America: Civil War and Spider-Man: Homecoming, and while I argue that Cap now carries the torch for the franchise, he does so piggybacking on the success of Tony Stark and his super-suit. Iron Man loses steam towards the end, specifically as they rush the story towards its inevitable and calamitous conclusion, but the overall design, effects, and plot are well realized and the perfect entry into this mammoth franchise. Audiences would not have been introduced to this vast universe of characters nor been taught the idea that “we are Groot”, had Marvel Studios, and subsequently Tony Stark, not had the audacity to proclaim, “I am Iron Man.” 

2) The Avengers

This movie feels like a laborious day’s work coming to a close; as the hours wind down and the body’s strength weens, there is a sense of relief and accomplishment at the sight of a job well done. By the time Marvel’s The Avengers released in 2012, four movies and four years had passed since Nick Fury, and subsequently Marvel Studios, hinted at the Avengers Initiative. Marvel had delivered a bombastic entry into their cinematic universe through Iron Man, but proceeded to produce two flops (The Incredible Hulk & Iron Man 2) and two mediocre entries (Thor & Captain America: The First Avenger), leaving fans to wonder what they were buying into . Franchise fatigue began to set in for the first time and fans started to wonder if this elaborate film industry experiment was beginning to be derailed. That’s not to say that these films weren’t successful and the general population wasn’t willing to see them at the box office, but the question remained as to whether this franchise would break the glass ceiling and become something greater. Fortunately, the anticipation of seeing the Avengers team up in a single movie liberated viewers from their cultural malaise. The Avengers succeeded in bringing these separate superheroes together on screen and followed through on Kevin Feige’s original vision for the coherent, overarching narratives of many films to assemble into a single story within the confines of a single film, much like the team ups featured in Marvel’s comic books. The film is able to converge these characters without losing their individuality and allows each hero the time needed to be effective. The Avengers also offers the greatest MCU villain to date in the unruly and sinister Loki, as a continuation of his previous entry in Thor. Villainy was, and always has been, a problem in the MCU, but Tom Hiddleston's Loki is constructed so well and transcends the typical contrivances, that he is able to deliver a menacing performance that places him in the same iconic lineup as Iron Man and Captain America. Since its reception, The Avengers has served as the mold from which all MCU films are now made. Regardless of rumblings of superhero ennui settling in once again among fans, the franchise filmmaking model established by The Avengers is not an indictment on the film itself, but an accolade and example of being the type of film that so firmly supplants itself into the cultural conversation. In an era almost compromised by tedium in superhero filmmaking, The Avengers proved that it was the most evocative superhero film of its time, and that despite cultural listlessness, the MCU was still able to excite and shatter viewers’ expectations. 

1) Guardians of the Galaxy

While considering Marvel’s The Avengers and its induction as the mold through which Marvel films are fitted, it is worthy to note that there are a few exceptions. Chief among them is Guardians of the Galaxy. Sure, it’s a superhero team-up movie that is both funny and action packed, but James Gunn took the Avenger model and notched it up to eleven. The film is daringly subversive and the heroes it displays are characters with whom audiences were widely unfamiliar with and unprepared for. Guardians strikes a delightful balance between irreverent and contemplative, and does so without paying attention to the conventions of other Marvel films. Expanding the cinematic universe into the galaxy and unveiling uncharted spatial and character territories quintessentially invigorated the franchise unlike any previous film. There was an unfettered joy in the creation of this film that translates perfectly into the experience of viewing it. It may be argued that Guardians of the Galaxy and The Avengers are tied for first or are out of order, but Guardians is just more delightful than any superhero movie that I have ever seen.

Please comment below and tell me how I’m wrong, or share it with your friends, solidifying my attempt at creating something pure and true. 

[lynchgirl90]

#TwinPeaks’: David Lynch Talks About Reviving the Iconic Series

"Cable television is a new art house, and it’s good that it’s here," says Lynch, who talks Showtime, inspiration and the red room.

He dressed like a G-man.

When he arrived for his interview with Variety, David Lynch wore a black suit, a white shirt, a black tie, and wingtips. His hair was styled the same way as always, but what had once been jet black was now mostly white. The only pop of color on Lynch was incongruous; it emerged when he sat down for the interview. As he gestured while talking, a yellow plastic watch peeked out from the sleeve of his white shirt. It was the only item that didn’t make him look like his “Twin Peaks” character, FBI official Gordon Cole.

Lynch was as affable an interviewee as I’ve ever come across, but his answers were concise: His art may rely on the creation of a mysterious atmosphere, but in talking about his return to the world of “Twin Peaks,” he couldn’t have been more unequivocal and direct. When he disagreed with the premise of a question, which was not an uncommon occurrence, he did so in the friendliest possible way. The single longest answer  — and it was an impassioned one, at that — revolved around his thoughts on the state of non-tentpole cinema.

The director is nothing if not attentive; he actually closed his eyes at several points in order to focus as completely as he could on his answers. At times, he would knead his hands together as he spoke, eyes closed, focused inward. That intensity seemed appropriate, given that he spoke about how his work is often inspired by images that float up from the deepest parts of his subconscious. Lynch doesn’t take credit for the existence of the strange moods and disjunctive tableaus that fill his work; he says he just channels what he sees, and puts that out into the world.

One more unequivocal thing: Lynch hates the idea of spoiling the experience of watching one of his creations. So in the conversation below, which was excerpted in this feature story on the drama’s return, there are no details about individual episodes of the “Twin Peaks” return, which arrived May 21 on Showtime.

When you’re on the set, are you a director who wants to have a very exact rendition of what you’ve envisioned?

Yes.

Down to line readings?

Yeah, it has to be very specific, or it has to be something that works just as well. If it doesn’t work in the line of things, then you have to talk and adjust things.

Are you looking for the actors to collaborate with you and bring you an idea that they think might execute your vision?

Not really. You know, it’s mostly — they tune into pretty much to what it is, and if they don’t, it’s pretty quick to explain the thing. Then there’s some that are good and some that are great line readings. You just keep working until it feels correct to you.

Kyle MacLachlan has said that you have such a close working relationship that you often don’t even need to speak. Is that something that develops over time?

Yeah, I think so, but I think I’ve known a lot of people as long as Kyle. We’re real close and sort of on the same page. So if I have any kind of doubt, he’ll pick up on that and think about it and he’ll know why. He’ll play back in his head something and say, “Well, off we go again.” We don’t have to say anything.

Because he’s so in tune with what you’re going for?

Yeah, the character is a certain way and Kyle knows what that way is, so he knows if he veered off at any time.

When you were envisioning this return to “Twin Peaks” — actually, I’ll back up a bit. In a more general way, is it images that come to you?

No, an idea holds everything, really, if you analyze it. It comes in a burst. An idea comes in, and if you stop and think about it, it has sound, it has image, it has a mood, and it even has an indication of wardrobe, and knowing a character, or the way they speak, the words they say. A whole bunch of things can come in an instant.

When you began to consider returning to “Twin Peaks,” did you receive flashes of those things, and then it was a matter of finding ways to join them together?

Yeah. I work with Mark Frost, so we talk and we get ideas. We kick around those ideas, and they get more and more specific, and something starts talking to you, and they know the way they want to be, and then there it is.

When you say “they know,” you’re saying the characters know?

No, the ideas. You pick up on the way they want to be. That’s what I always say, it’s like fish. You don’t make the fish, you catch the fish. It’s like, that idea existed before you caught it, so in some strange way, we human beings, we don’t really do anything. We just translate ideas. The ideas come along and you just translate them.

And transmit them to other people.

Yeah. You may build a thing, and then eventually it gets finished, and you show it.

What were lessons learned from the first two seasons of “Twin Peaks” that you wanted to carry forward into this new experience with it?

For me, I wanted to be involved with all the writing and I wanted to direct all of them. Not that other directors didn’t do a fine job. But, it’s passing through different people, it’s just natural that they would end up with [something] different than what I would do. That’s what I learned.

In a perfect world, would you have loved to have directed all of the first two seasons?

Oh yeah.

Showtime first announced this project in October 2014, and now here we are in 2017, so it’s been a very…

Long time. And we were writing before that [he and Frost began collaborating again in 2012].

When you sat down with Mark again and decided to do this, what was it that made you think, “Yeah, we definitely need to do that.” You had an accumulation of ideas?

No.

No pile of fish that you’d caught?

No. It was 25 years later, which was [a time frame mentioned] in the original thing, and that’s one thing. Another is a love for the world and the people in the world. Then, as soon as you start to focus on that, that’s when ideas start coming.

The experience of working with ABC, do you look back fondly on that?

Sure. I mean, I didn’t really know that side of it. I just remember loving the pilot. The pilot to me is the thing. That sets the mood and the characters and the feel of “Twin Peaks.”

I can actually remember the quality of the light in the room the day “Twin  Peaks” premiered, because it’s so imprinted on me. Watching it again, that atmosphere in the pilot is still so effective and mysterious. I understand that the ideas come to you and you want to transmit them, but are you also trying to access an emotional state in yourself, or reproduce that in the viewer?

No, it comes with the idea and … emotion is a tricky thing. A bunch of elements that need to come together to conjure that feeling and have it go over into other people. I guess, like Mel Brooks said, “If you don’t laugh while you’re writing the thing, the audience isn’t going to laugh.” If you don’t cry or feel it while you’re doing it, it’s probably not going to translate.

At times, “Twin Peaks” is also a very funny show.

It’s a bunch of things. That’s the thing. It’s like life, actually — you could be crying in the morning and laughing in the afternoon. It’s the way it is.

Were you surprised when it came out how popular it was?

Yeah. You know, TV executives, I guess they worry, so they have some tests they do on shows, especially a pilot. Apparently in those days, it took place in Philadelphia, and there was a room full of regular people. On a scale from one to 100, it did a 52. It didn’t do terribly, but they didn’t have really any idea. Something happened between that test screening and the air date. Something went in the air.

Showtime Gary Levine, who was at ABC then, talked about how it was held for mid-season — people in the media got to see it and some of the buzz started that way. The interest built over time, and people began to hear about before it came out.

People hear about lots of things.

But there were fewer things to hear about 27 years ago. There was a lot less TV being made.

That’s true.

Why was it important to revisit that “25 years later” time frame?

Well, I had a thing happen to me [during the making of the] pilot. A pilot is open-ended. But in case the pilot flops, they ask you to do a closed ending — they call it the European version. Partway through shooting the pilot, people would say, “Remember David, you have to do a closed ending.” I had zero interest in doing that and no time to do it anyway. No ideas. Mark was not having any ideas.

In the editing process, one evening about 6:30 p.m., I think — it was very nice weather. Warm, and it was a nice sun, low in the sky. Me and [editors] Duwayne Dunham and Brian Berdan went out into the parking lot from the editing room, and we were talking about something. I leaned up against the roof of a car, like this [he folds his arms out in front of him, as if resting on a car roof]. The roof was so warm, but not too warm. It was just a really good feeling, and into my head came the red room in Cooper’s dream. That opened up a portal in the world of “Twin Peaks.” A super important opening, and it led to [the idea that it] took place 25 years later — that dream.

Were you worried about what network the new season would end up at and how it would be received?

No. You see the thing is, there are plenty of things to worry about, but it’s so enjoyable. If nothing happens, it’s still okay. This whole trip has been enjoyable.

You and Mark did ended up settling on Showtime. Why was that?

Well, a lot of reasons, but the long and the short of it is now I’m really happy to work with Showtime and [CEO] David Nevins and [president of programming] Gary Levine and [executive] Robin Gurney and all the people there.

So you brought Showtime the entire script in one 400-page binder. What was it like talking about that with them, getting their feedback?

I think, if you asked 100 people to read something, you’d get 100 different things. Like they say, never turn down a good idea, but never take a bad idea. You stay true to the ideas and you can’t veer off from those things.

I talked to David and Gary from Showtime about the problems that occurred in April 2015, when you said you were going to step away from “Twin Peaks.”

What did they say?

David Nevins said that, once it was explained to him what you wanted, he thought you were making a reasonable and rational request to potentially be able to expand what you were doing. But it wasn’t fitting the normal pattern of what business affairs was used to. That’s where he thought the hitch happened.

Basically, that’s it.

And as soon as he could, he and Gary went over to your house and you all drank coffee.

Gary brought treats for me. Some cookies.

So in the main, what’s your relationship been like with Showtime?

Solid gold.

When you went into production and were shooting it, what were some of the most exciting parts of it?

Every day was exciting. Every day. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s like, this is a day you work with this character, and they do this, and it’s this is part of the story, so it should be exciting. It should be a really great feeling when you get it. Each day you try to get it. I always say, in the morning, you have a glass bridge that you’re supposed to cross. It’s so delicate, you wonder if it will break apart. As you go, it turns to steel. When you get [what you want], it’s a steel bridge. Getting it the way you want it to be, that’s a beautiful high, and it’s a high for everybody. It’s difficult to go home and go right to sleep. And it’s murder to get up in the morning.

Did you feel like you had a bit more freedom with Showtime? Although I know you’ve said that ABC didn’t really place too many limits on you in terms of Standards & Practices.

No, we pretty much did what we wanted to do. [We did] what the story wanted. You don’t think, “Oh, I can do this now.” The story tells you what’s going to happen.

Would you do another season?

I don’t know. You never say no. You don’t know what will happen. It depends on a lot of things.

When I think about Agent Cooper, I see him as an optimistic man. He seems like someone who is excited to meet the challenges of life. How much of who he is is reflective of who you are?

Well, I believe in intuition. I believe in optimism, and energy, and a kind of a Boy Scout attitude, and Cooper’s got all those things. I think a real good detective has those things. He’s got more intuition than more detectives, though.

Was he an Eagle Scout, though, like you?

Was Cooper an Eagle Scout? I never thought about it. I don’t know.

Well, that could be season four, then — a prequel. In the main, do you watch much TV?

I watch some news. I watch the Velocity Channel. It’s about cars. That’s my new love, this Velocity Channel and the different shows where they customize cars and restore cars. It’s pretty great. These car guys are real artists, some of them. Some of these cars are so beautiful.

Do you watch any scripted TV?

I loved “Breaking Bad” and “Mad Men.”

Are you still going to make feature films?

Feature films are suffering a kind of bad time right now, in my opinion, because the feature films that play in theaters are blockbusters. That seems to fill the theaters, but the art-house cinema is gone.

If I made a feature film, it might play in L.A. and New York, a couple of other places, for a week in a little part of a cineplex, and then it would go who knows where. I built [“Twin Peaks”] to be on the big screen. It will be on a smaller screen, but it’s built for the big screen. You want a feature film to play on a big screen with big sound, and utilize all the best technology to make a world.

It’s really tough after all that work to not get it in the theater. So I say that cable television is a new art house, and it’s good that it’s here.

“Twin Peaks” airs on Showtime Sundays at 9 p.m

link (TP)

[shirlleycoyle]

Here’s What ‘The Office’ Would Have Looked Like in Slack

It's been fifteen years since the American version of The Office premiered, and since then not only has the show gone from a scrappy underdog to a cultural touchstone, the nature of office work has changed dramatically. Starting today, you can fall in love with Jim and Pam all over again as every episode of The Office is recreated in Slack.

The company MSCHF drops a new, weird internet toy every two weeks. The last drop was Boomer Emails, a newsletter that collates the weird emails that boomers endlessly forward to each other in order to both make you laugh, and show you the insular community it creates. Daniel Greenberg, head of strategy and growth at MSCHF, said that the company wants to help foster a better internet, one that feels more creative, weirder, and more inclusive.

"At the end of the day, we're doing stuff for the people of the internet and no other reason" Greenberg said over the phone. "This is a perfect example of something that makes zero money, it's just a free Slack channel you can join to watch The Office recreated and there's nothing else to it. Us as a business is really about bringing back good internet, and telling stories with what we do."

"The Office Slack" will be MSCHF's 21st drop. Greenberg said that about half of them are physical objects people can buy, and the other half are digital toys. MSCHF feels a little bit like a millenial version of The Boring Store, a nonprofit writing center whose storefronts are made up to be secret agent supply shops. At its worst, the gimmick is eye roll worthy, like MSCHF's sneakers with holy water in the soles so that you can walk on water. Sometimes, they give you fun ways to play mind games with your boss, like a browser extension that makes Netflix look like a video conference call. The Office Slack is one of those rare matches of medium and message that makes you think about how the beast that is the internet has twisted its tendrils into your brain, infecting every aspect of your life.

Greenberg thinks using these ubiquitous internet apps for things they aren't intended to is a fun way to fuck with these brands. He said that MSCHF has already been kicked off Slack for using it for something other than its intended use. MSCHF ran a word of the day contest in Slack, where people would guess what the word of the day was. The first person to guess it would receive a thousand dollars. Slack shut it down, saying that Slack is "for work" which their project was decidedly not.

"We've used Reddit in a way that's not intended. We used Seamless in a way that it's not intended, and that one got us a cease and desist," He said.

Recreating The Office wain Slack was an obvious choice because the show is about work, and it's not difficult to imagine the characters using it in their workplace. If The Office aired right now, all of the characters would be on Slack. MSCHF has done their best to translate every episode of the show into the analogues that work in this new format, including making channels that approximate everyone's DMs to each other. An assortment of actors and improvisers are playing the characters live, working off of a written script, but with some room for improvisation. In order to bring these characters to life, Greenberg said that they're trying to make use of all the features of Slack, as well as the digital markers of office life as it is now.

"We're putting in Githubs and we're putting in PDFs and we're putting in gifs and reactions," Greenberg said. "We're not just copy and pasting, we're making it like, this is what they would do over Slack."

Greenberg pointed to the changes that they made to adapt the scene where Michael Scott burns his foot in the season two episode "The Injury." Some things, like the talking heads segments, are done away with. Instead of telling a fake documentarian that he burned his foot on a George Foreman grill while trying to have breakfast in bed, he just tells the whole office. Honestly, that's pretty in character for a self obsessed boss—he's so important that he gets to derail the entire slack conversation. He even uses the "@channel" command, sending everyone in the office a notification. Jim responds to the drama mostly through gifs and emoji reactions, but he and Pam aren't talking much. You kinda get the feeling that they're having a lot of fun in the DMs. So many of their neuroses and behaviors translate into Slack so neatly that it brings back a little of the joy I felt when I first watched these personalities unhappily collide. Even the typing styles feel in character. Michael will tag any and everyone he pleases, taking up as much space as possible, while his lackey Dwight talks in direct, staccato sentences that convey his weirdly intense nature.

When The Office was on the air, I was obsessed with it. I don't think I ever wanted anything more in high school than to see Jim and Pam kiss. Although revisiting something you loved in high school can give you the douche chills, every time I've revisited it, I've been relieved that it's still funny. Greenberg said that he was watching the classic "Diversity Day" episode the morning of our call. I'm honestly pretty excited to watch everything unfold again—I'm sure Jim is going to make good use of the eyes emoji.

Here’s What ‘The Office’ Would Have Looked Like in Slack syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[gsmatthews95]

Sun, sea and shithead

Hello moto. Another very... Out there title eh? It is that time again. I am here and I have lots of news for you. By lots I mean, quite little really but I have to blog before I get to the black mountain?? What is this black mountain I speak of? Ah for those Spanish speaking whizzes reading this you'll know the translation of this is Montenegro. The country. You know? You've probs heard very little of it. I know literally nothing but it is a country I am excited for and Alina has been itching to visit for months. We are literally quaking in our boots in anticipation of maybe the greatest country in the world. Ok maybe it won't be the best but expectations are high. Yay. Also another border crossing, woooo. There's been a lot of border crossings, occupational hazard of going round relatively small countries. Also, side note. I didn't get a leaving stamp from Bosnia hmmm. Firstly why did I get one in the first place? We're both in the EU. Brexit hasn't happened yet mate. Stop discriminating. God damn it. Alina didn't get a stamp, I did. It made No sense. I can only assume they thought I'd try and stay past brexit and become an illegal immigrant. Yet I've left so ha. They lose, I win... OK. Yeah but then when we went on to Croatia they drove straight past the border crossing without stopping, like at all. They just sped thru. Hmmmm. The inconsistency between border crossings has been an unfathomable mystery I've been probing in my mind. Some they dont stop you. Some they look at your passport. Some you stay on the bus. Some you get off. And some they have border guards shouting at you, not pointing any fingers (Serbia). So I hope this one I won't be pulled up for having no exit stamp. That would seriously dampen my trip. And be an irritating time and monetary inconvenience. #Pray4George. Anyhow, you'll find this out after my next post. Ill find out in an hour... For now you just get to hear more about our beautiful, relaxing, chilled out coastal camping time yeaaaaay. So we stayed in neum for four nights, where I posted my last blog from. I can't remember all I said last time so please excuse if I sound like a broken record and my repetition kills your brain cells. So this was the first use of the k mart tent and SLEEPING BAG ONESIE since leaving oz. It was emotional for me. And epic. We didn't put the lid on the tent so the roof was just a mozzie net. Breezy and you got lits of natural light. Plus being a three man tent there was lots of space. Alina even got to experience the beauty of the onesie first hand. A prestigious moment that I imagine will stay with her for the rest of her life, although as it was 30 degrees she didn't use it to its fullest potential unlike in the arctic conditions of central Australia at night. In the immortal words of Dwayne "the rock" Johnson: you're welcome. The campsite was nice although it had one toilet and one shower. Icky. Smelly. Gross. Wet. Feral. These are just an array of words I would use to describe them. Especially when there were 40 people staying there. Aside from this we had fun. Cheap, beers and lots of cards. There was one game we played, a lot. And those of you familiar with it will know from the title. Those not, will think my profanities are taking the best of me. Shithead. What a game. One I learnt as a wee infant with one Ashley beddows, then more innocently known as the magic game, it took hold of me and has been a staple of my life, especially while travelling or when skiing with the cousins. It is now also in Alina's lifeblood. We may have played over 100 maybe 200 games in like a week. Addiction. It is a cruel thing. One that we do not understand and can often underestimate until we are taken under its grips. Like meth addicts desperately looking for their next hit, Scrounging money for a few hours high, we scoured the streets for cards and when we found them we sprinted back to camp to let the games commence. We havent looked back. We could be anywhere now, we can't stop staring at those cards and threeing each other. Machu pichu? No thanks I'd rather win at shithead. We have an issue. Please. Call social services. We are addicts. We need help. We need our family. Mum. Dad. Hannah. Jessica. Rowland. If you're out there reading this please, hear my call and get us help. Lol. Ok neum was nice we went to the stone beach each day searching for shade. Its very hot here but the shade is perfect. Only issue we aren't the only ones desperately seeking shade. Everyone was, it was like some kind of teisted pilgrimmage where the shade was the statue of a virgin mary we pray to to cure our illnesses. There were however, some tanning machines who just took the sun in all its glory and power. There was limited shade but we generally found it as we cosyed up next to randoners, we sat on their feet and straddled their lilos. It was funny. The sea was gorgeous though, warm yet refreshing from the midday heat. The beach was also the ideal spot for some German lessons which have been under way (sporadically), for a few weeks now. Lots of vocab. I'm building my repertoire before my fluency comes. A zommershpraser for example is a freckle, it translates to summer sprinkle - cute. Only isuue is as its all oral my spelling is atrocious. Alina is a good teacher though. So give it a week and I'll be writing sonnets and reading ancient German texts. So apart from cards and tanning there isn't much to report from our time in neum (we're both very tanned tho, yeaaaaah baybey). Be jealous. Oh yes one more thing. There was some kind of travelling christian cult in our campsite who look to "help" disadvantaged, vulnerable kids in Bosnia. Hmmm. Sketchy. They even tried to convert both of us simultaneously in German and English. Very amusing. My guy, also from Guildford, lol, very random, that was his in by the way, how he began the conversion. He failed. He cited the illuminati and giants and conspiracy theories in his "sermon". It was hard to take him seriously before, this made it impossible. They both failed we are not a part of their cult (you're welcome). Amusing nonetheless though. Alina's "messiah" was an ex heroin addict who claimed the gift of god was better than any high he'd ever got, lol good joke. The simultaneous looks on our faces showed our disbelief in what they were trying to do. An outsider, a bystander that is would have had a chuckle I reckon. So the second part of our coastal adventure was the immense Dubrovnik. This is a city I have heard about for years from a variety of people. But never really thought about. Then when I found out we'd be going straight past it I pushed for us to make a stop there, Alina agreed. Only issue. It is super touristy and super expensive. Cheapest hostel €25, urgh. 1 night it is then. So we embarked upon our 24 hours in Dubrovnik, the UNESCO world heritage site. There is one thing for certain. That title is fully deserved. While a little part of me wants to revisit and rewrite the immortal "we h8 tourists" post from vietnam on Christians blog, my overwhelming desire (for once) is to talk about its beauty and the awe we (I especially) felt. I say I especially because of my obsession with walls, history and battles. Its like age of empires (the game I used to play? Or black and white 2 (another game I used to play) or game of thrones or lord of the rings. It is sick. So its an old town, very rich and is completely surrounded by the impeccable, huge, And fully preserved 2km wall. Every single inch of ground within these walls, that were built from the 1300s to the 1600s, is being used and covered in stone. Game of thrones was filmed there, it quite literally felt like being in GoT or LoTR as you wandered around the tiny alleyways that were super steep up the hill or as you leaned against the huge 20ft high walls. It was immense, Beautiful and unbelievably impressive. It was awesome, another few days would have been nice but one day was enough to see it all and experience the city. We also went to the small little beach next to the old town that was split in two. Free beach and the bar's paid beach. These halves were the same size but while the free part was rammed, no space to lie down fully the paid half had maybe 30 people on its 100 sun loungers. Ridiculous. It was a nice lil beach tho, sea still lush and a nice view of the city. We also went on a nice boat trip round the city and the island. Very relaxed and a nice view of the city. It was a good day spent and funnily enough the best view we got was on the bus just now on the way out as it climbed a fee hundred metres up and we saw right down over Dubrovnik. A successful few days for us as we head to Montenegro. I look forward greatly to regaleing the tales of this great journey. Bye bye. G. PS. I got thru the border fine. However, I have a very funny story from this crossing, all will be shared in good time.

[victoriagloverstuff]

Edmund White: Reading is a Passport to the World

When I was a little child, my sister, who was nearly four years older, was astonished that I couldn’t read. We were in my mother’s old Ford, driving around the main square of Hyde Park, and my sister pointed to a sign and said, “You honestly can’t read that?”

“No,” I said sullenly. “What does it say?”

“Graeter’s,” she announced triumphantly, the name of Cincinnati’s premier ice cream maker. “Can’t you see that? What does it say to you?” She wasn’t being mean; she was genuinely puzzled. Reading was a magical portal—once you passed through it, you couldn’t even imagine going back.

I must have been four. Two years later I could read, or at least “sound out” syllables (that was the method then). When I realized that I could interpret these hieroglyphics, I felt so free, as if a whole new world had been opened to me. Now I could herar a chorus of voices, even those coming from other centuries and cultures. I was no longer bound to the squalid here and now, to my mother’s web-spinning of agreeable fantasies or my father’s sudden eruptions of rage, to the sweating summers of that age before air conditioning.

I remember toddling into my mother’s room, where she was taking a perfumed bubble bath in the late afternoon. I announced (or maybe thought), “I’m free. I can read.”

Could I really have had such an improbable thought at age six? Or have I just told myself that that thought occurred to me then? And yet I remember my mother’s sweetness, the good smell, the afternoon sunlight, and my very real feeling of joyful liberation. And, quite concretely, reading has always struck me as a passport to the world, one in which characters are more real than actual people, where values are more intense than in the dim light of reality, where characters fly up into destinies rather than paddle around in ambiguity.

I felt like a blind person who’d just regained his sight. I was no longer a Cincinnatian but rather an earthling. If things were clearly written in English, there was no text that was off-limits. I never read the standard children’s classics. No Wind in the Willows. Only recently did I get around to Treasure Island.

In my twenties and thirties no book was too ambitious for me; I worked my way through Theodor Adorno and Heinrich von Kleist, Roland Barthes and Michel Foucault, though I was drunk most of the time and often had to hold one eye shut. I suppose I was hanging out with a pretty brainy crowd back then, and I felt I had to keep up. I doubt I retained much, though in my thirties and forties I reviewed several books by Barthes and Foucault.

I was so driven back then, it never would have occurred to me to reread a book! My goal was to have read everything, or at least the major works that appealed to me, that seemed essential. Perhaps because I’d never done any graduate work, I felt inferior. I’d never read The Faerie Queene. Worse, I’d been a writer for eight years for Time-Life Books, the ultimate home of the middle-brow. Although I invariably said defensively, “I’m not an intellectual,” I wanted to be one—or at least to be able to refuse demurely that title. Sometimes I took comfort in the idea I was an artist, not an intellectual. I even resorted to the ridiculously snobbish notion I was a “gentleman amateur” and not an intellectual. But I’ve always wanted to have the choice to join any club, especially one that might reject me. For instance, I made a major effort to join the Century Club, for which one had to be sponsored by 11 or 12 current members. Two years after I was accepted, I resigned. Too many lawyers.

Now I do reread at least two books every year—Anna Karenina and Henry Green’s Nothing. Although these two novels are so different one from the other, they both reward closer scrutiny, so much so they scarcely resemble the same book one remembers having read the year before. People complain about the Kitty and Lvov parts of Anna Karenina, but that’s a frivolous charge. Their love stands in dramatic contrast to Anna’s and Vronsky’s passion and is the necessary counterweight to that tragic tale. In the same way, some readers treat Nothing the way they regard all comedy—as lightweight. Actually it is a profound study of the generations and social classes—and unexpectedly it sides with the older, richer people.

“Perhaps some prose is enough like a taut play script that it profits from being read aloud, but almost always a live reading of prose is an exercise in vanity.”

The other book I’ve reread five times in my life is Proust’s. When I was a teenager I read it as the bible of snobbism; it gave me a whole vocabulary to describe this vice that Proust calls “narrow but deep.” Now I read it as the definitive condemnation of snobbism.

For my memoir, I’ve reread a few favorites by Colette, Nabokov, and Tolstoy and read for the first time novels by Guyotat, Giono, and Malaparte. Do we prefer to revisit books we love or to explore the unknown? Are we happier to find new things in the old or to detect familiar themes and strategies in the utterly new and startling? The brilliant novelist of modern manners Alison Lurie once explained to me why she was more popular in England than in America. “For the English I’m writing about an unfamiliar subject [American academic and artistic life] in a familiar style of social satire, whereas for Americans I’m writing in an unusual style about familiar subjects.” Has she touched on an explanation of why we like certain books and not others?

*

Joe Brainard reportedly said on his deathbed, “The best thing about dying is that you never have to go to another poetry reading.” How many times I’ve had to sit through poetry readings in a stuffy room with subaqueous light at the end of a long day and fight against falling asleep! The mind loves a narrative, and in my half sleep my poor brain has spun cartoons made up of chance words, my embarrassment, trace memories (what Freudians call dismissively “the daily residue”), and my shipwrecked will to wake up, or at least not snore.

Everyone says poetry is an oral art, and perhaps some of it is meant to be read out loud. Good actors can make us understand passages in Shakespeare that use obsolete language, though I hate it when pedants hope to indicate the line break or the caesura. I could never make sense of The Tempest until I saw it onstage. On the page I could never keep track of all the characters. Charles Lamb argued in an essay that reading Shakespeare is preferable to seeing him produced, and maybe hammy acting and garish sets and thundering exits and entrances do topple certain of Shakespeare’s cloud castles, but great performances can dial into sharp focus even the vaguest verse.

But does modern poetry gain from being recited out loud? James Merrill was a smooth, trained reader and the smile in his voice could give the reader permission to laugh at his improbable mixture of metaphysics and gossip. His light social tone so often gives way to the sublime that a reader less civilized than he scarcely knows what is funny and what is serious (sometimes both at once, since he thought wisdom was expressed in puns and that the language itself is the collective unconscious).

Percussive poetry like Pound’s translation of the Anglo-Saxon The Seafarer as read by the author himself to the beat of drums can be riveting; a casual scanning of the page would never render the granitic, prehistoric force of this masterpiece. In his recitation (now on YouTube) Pound rolls his r’s, thuds the final d’s, and maintains a shaman’s monotone. Maybe Paul Verlaine’s musical verse (or John Keats’s) is improved by being read out loud, but most 20th- or 21st-century verse is too abstract or too dense to be understood on a single hearing. The mise-en-page, the line breaks, the Latinate or Anglo-Saxon origins of the words, as in tomb and grave (“The tomb in Palestine / Is not the porch of spirits lingering. / It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay”)—these are all elements that surrender themselves only to close reading.

With prose the problem is the speed. Everyone reads at a different pace, and some texts are not interesting or intricate enough to be dosed out at conversational speed. We get it; we want to scan it. Perhaps some prose is enough like a taut play script that it profits from being read aloud, but almost always a live reading of prose is an exercise in vanity. It may be valuable for the fiction writer to gauge the response of his audience, to listen for contradictions or unintended echoes, to detect where people’s attention wanders. But do these practical benefits for the writer outweigh the torture undergone by the public?

Silent, solitary reading (if the book is good) is the best conversation, with all the uhs and ahs edited out, the dead metaphors buried, the dialogue sharpened, the descriptions vivid, the suspense rising, the characters hovering between the unique and the representative. In the great Italian and French guides to good conversation during the Renaissance and 17th century, conversation must avoid pedantry and cruelty and seek above all to please and to entertain. Finally it must be natural; affectation is the worst sin, far worse than flattery, which may even be desirable. In her definitive study The Age of Conversation, Benedetta Craveri (granddaughter to the philosopher Benedetto Croce) argues that good conversation should not make anyone feel inferior or ill at ease but rather the object of a total consideration. And Simone Weil, the French religious philosopher, thought paying attention was a form of prayer.

The novelist or essayist should never mystify for no good reason. We should know why the marquise goes out at five o’clock (if it’s relevant). In an essay we should not be thrown off by academese. An idea may be difficult, but not its expression, as I learned from my beloved Marilyn; the words should be as lucid as possible. The assumption should be that the reader is intelligent but not necessarily informed.

__________________________________

Good read found on the Lithub

[unapologetic-mee]

Exposé VII

It seems that you and I were actually on the same wavelength this week.  The only difference is that you blame someone else and I blame myself. You like to dodge our relationship status or soften conversations when they get too intimate by saying “we’re still getting to know each other” but the truth is that I’ve spent 7 months getting to know you and I’m fairly sure that I’ve got a solid grip on who you are, at least your core elements. You’re honest, sincere, funny, family oriented, creative and selfish.  I also know that in your case, you’re right - you still are getting to know me and partly because I’ve been so aloof to you.  I’m a tough nut to crack and with good reason. I told you very early on that I would never bring up past relationships or compare you to them… because frankly, what is done is done. And I’ve kept my word. I’ve grown to love every single person that I’ve encountered because no matter what the outcome, I’ve learned more about myself as a person and the things I do and don’t like in other people… but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been hurt. I just choose not to revisit it as often as you do.

You asked me today how I felt about us. I wasn’t expecting you to ask me a question that I had been asking myself all week. Your silence was noticed.

So here are my unfiltered feelings…

I’m not sure how I’ve ever felt about you. I’ve told you that I was expecting you to be my first one night stand and right now I really wish it had stayed at that. At least then I wouldn’t have had time to catch feelings and get hurt. I told you today that I found some kind of solace in us, that unlike other relationships I didn’t feel an urgency to move forward and that I didn’t feel the need to ask you why we haven’t moved forward. I’ve been telling myself that you’re different, an open book. I’ve never had a reason not to trust you and I translated that as not having a need to claim ownership to us.  But subconsciously I always knew that you were right… we are two different people with different approaches to life.

I don’t know if this a long-term funk or if you were just trying to vent about whatever existential crisis you’re having but we both know that I listen well and I’m great at reading between the lines.  You said a lot of things but the main point that stuck to me was that you blame your mother’s absence for using women as emotional clutches. To the point, that out of loyalty you stay in relationships and at times you fear the ability to stray like your father did … meaning, that at some point you’ve had thoughts of experiencing other women.  You’ve compared me several times to your past girlfriend and the few times that we’ve fought you’ve brought her up as a comparison.  I didn’t say it then but reliving your past with your present was the most unfair thing you could have done.

I’ve often listened, comforted, and endured your rash reactions or fluctuations of emotions because I know that I’m not perfect and I have a mom complex. I try to build bridges instead of burning them.  But this is one bridge I don’t see a point in building if you refuse to meet me half way.

You blame your past and I blame my own inability to let people in. I’m too guarded and I think that’s the worst part about this all. That out of everyone I’ve dating or been in a relationship with, you were the one I thought deserving of me to let my guard down. Things like introducing you to my sister or my dog are the simplest of things but to me it’s huge because it’s an extension of my world and my heart.

I stormed off not because I was hot or in a rush to a meeting. I left because I wasn’t going to stick around to hear you tell me that you want to be single or that you have relationship issues.  I get it. You need space to figure yourself out, to master your craft, to focus on you alone.  I hate to be an obstacle to your growth but I can’t just stick around and be friends with benefits.

Until today I thought we were building towards something more than that. It would be humiliating and belittling of my character and worth to, like you said, “still hang out.” I can’t see anyone in our circumstances become just friends.  It just sucks cause I really did grow to love you as a persons and a friend above all.

I’ve said it once before… I’m your biggest fan but that will never amount to much from anyone if you don’t figure yourself out first.

Time and space is a great remedy for heartache. I don’t hate you or hold resentment towards you, I’m just not sticking around for you to hurt my feeling anymore than you have.

We should have left it at see ya when I see ya. _______________________________________________________________________

There is a beauty to unexpected farewells. 

The premeditation of words and the padded emotions are never an option for moments like these. Just honest emotion. The type that creeps up on you because when it was good it was easy to take for granted. When you’re forced to say goodbye, that's when all the caught feelings kick in. But I can’t tell whats worse... the unexpected farewell, the wave of caught feelings, or the realization that you had subconsciously prepared yourself for the day you would say goodbye.  He was right about one thing... that night, I had wanted to say “I love you.” And the day I wrote this I was glad it never passed my lips.