by Christos Polydorou

I’ve read novels that were essentially written to be made into movies, and good for them for making so much honey. The novel I am writing therefore is self-consciously, stubbornly and insufferably the complete opposite of that. It is an examination of what a human camera, ie, me, can do from the perspective of an ever-changing, ever-shifting and yet forever still landscape of English language. An escapade. A new elementary element. The thing that either breaks or makes me.

I am forty years old.