Tomás is in the drear throes of toska. The story opens on him cutting a faintly Beckettian figure, alone in his chaotic flat at 4:17am, using a straw to drink coffee directly from a cafetière because he owns no cups and sees nothing to be gained from buying some. I reviewed Gonzalo C. Garcia’s We Are the End for Litro. It's a debut novel about Millennials, computer games and depression, and hails from from everyone’s favourite indie publisher, Galley Beggar Press.
In summary: pretty funny / pretty problematic. You can read the full review here.
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The launch of We Were Strangers was a roaring success, even if I do say so myself. The room was packed out, everyone seemed to enjoy the evening, and there were less copies of the book for sale at the end of the night than there had been when we’d started.
Here, for posterity, are some photographs, culled from various sources, including Sarah-Clare Conlon, David Gaffney, Nicholas Royle, the good people at Waterstones Deansgate, my mum (thanks Mum!) and your trusty friend and editor: me. |
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