InsaneJournal

Snarry-a-Thon19: ART: The Lost World (book version)
Title: The Lost World (book version)
Artist: Antuhsa
Other pairings/threesome: Nope
Rating: General
Media: Various types of paper, cardboard, bookbinder’s linen, dried grass
Content/Warning(s): None
Prompt: 001 Wild Card
Summary: Have you ever wondered what would happen if fanfics were printed and bound just like original stories are? If you could buy them from the bookstore or borrow them from the library? If you could physically turn their pages, wrap them and give them as gifts to friends? Have you asked yourself what fanfics would look, feel and smell like if that was the case? I certainly have. And since I know a thing or two about bookbinding, I decided to take a small step towards answering those questions.

Featuring The Lost World by perverse idyll.

A/N: Thank you so much, perverse idyll, for allowing me to use your work to create whatever I wanted! Your wonderful descriptive writing is an artist’s dream, because it was very easy to envision the scenes and create a book cover design based on them. Also a huge, huge thank you to Acid for editing the photos. They look fantastic and actually do my work justice now. Thank you so much for that! You’re a digital wizard!

This is technically fanart/ fancraft of perverse idyll’s fic The Lost World. Reading it will help in understanding my work, but it’s not necessary. It’s a very beautiful, well-written fic though, so if you don’t mind tragic stories, I highly recommend you give it a go!

The characters are J.K. Rowling’s, the text is perverse idyll’s, but everything else (typesetting, design, binding etc.) was done by me.

View on AO3

The Lost World

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Then, for one extraordinary second, the whole wilderness flares up, and Harry sees. He sees Snape. Snape's standing in the gap where two branches divide, backlit by the sun dipping under the clouds. Snape, face ablaze, peering through the dense, geometrical shadows of his hair, his narrow body patterned by overlapping leaves. Harry walks forward, hand outstretched, and as he comes closer the optical illusion falls to pieces, dissolving into dappled bark and ragged outlines, sunlight brimming in pale, late-autumn blooms.

Perverse Idyll, The Lost World, p. 12.

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