A gay Black British writer locks himself in a room to find his authentic artistic voice, and as the fabric of space and time collapse, he reckons with the ways that whiteness has interfered with his search for authenticity. I loved the magical realism. I loved its narrative voice. I struggled with its book within a book structure, which sometimes left me feeling like the narrative was a bit uneven. This said, the final 30 pages where we get the payoff of this device are so devastatingly beautiful that it in and of itself bumped up my overall rating.