Written over roughly the space of a year The Wood Pigeons began as a 365 word story. The 261 chapters here represent the removal of words at a rate of roughly one per day. Part Droste effect the result is a narrative that is highly recursive yet just as varied too, leading finally and inevitably to nothing.
What this means is, if you can stand it, you can read from start to finish with some weird deja vu going on. Or dip in at different places for some major shifts in narrative.
Here's what David Berridge has to say about it - Is this an obsessive rumination upon a vanished bit of everyday? Do a writer’s revisions push a book to the edge of disappearing? Viewed as a whole its chapters reduce from prolixity to a single word, but from one chapter to the next what gets lost is concealed by narrative’s ability to patch up gaps, plus the typesetter’s arts, at work upon a fiction of C and D, sleep, a glass of wine, a pullover, on repeat. Does a novel decay to develop? Does each micro-adjustment of a novel's code re-figure protagonists, intoxicant on new terms? It spells the “hoo-hooing of the wood pigeons” as well as literature ever could.
You can buy it from Dostoyevsky Wannabe here - https://www.dostoyevskywannabe.com/originals/the_wood_pigeons