The Nucleus of Reality
Or the Recollections of Thomas P—
Novel Buy Now
Summary
The Nucleus of Reality by L.A. Davenport is a surreal and thought-provoking journey into the mind of a man grappling with the disintegration of his identity and sense of reality. Told through the reflections of Thomas P—, the novel explores the fine line between memory, imagination, and madness.
After a series of disturbing encounters with people from his past—people who appear exactly as they were decades ago—Thomas finds himself pulled into a labyrinth of existential dread, unsure of what is real and what is fabricated by his mind. As he delves deeper into his memories, Thomas is forced to confront the shifting nature of his identity, friendship, and the very fabric of his world.
In this darkly humorous and deeply philosophical novel, Davenport weaves a narrative that is at once eerie, introspective, and compellingly strange. The Nucleus of Reality invites readers to question the nature of their own realities and what it truly means to know oneself.
Fans of psychological fiction, existentialist themes, and stories that blur the boundaries of reality will find The Nucleus of Reality an unforgettable read.
After a series of disturbing encounters with people from his past—people who appear exactly as they were decades ago—Thomas finds himself pulled into a labyrinth of existential dread, unsure of what is real and what is fabricated by his mind. As he delves deeper into his memories, Thomas is forced to confront the shifting nature of his identity, friendship, and the very fabric of his world.
In this darkly humorous and deeply philosophical novel, Davenport weaves a narrative that is at once eerie, introspective, and compellingly strange. The Nucleus of Reality invites readers to question the nature of their own realities and what it truly means to know oneself.
Fans of psychological fiction, existentialist themes, and stories that blur the boundaries of reality will find The Nucleus of Reality an unforgettable read.
Reviews
The Nucleus of Reality is “consistently taut and suspenseful, as it adeptly communicates Thomas’ growing sense of dread.” Kirkus Reviews
Thomas is “not the most reliable narrator” but “Davenport succeeds in making his protagonist come across as honest and trustworthy, and Thomas earns the reader’s forgiveness even after omitting important information or delivering it out of order.” Kirkus Reviews
Thomas is “not the most reliable narrator” but “Davenport succeeds in making his protagonist come across as honest and trustworthy, and Thomas earns the reader’s forgiveness even after omitting important information or delivering it out of order.” Kirkus Reviews
With intriguing and clever writing, L.A. Davenport encourages the reader to think about who [Thomas] is and…who we are in society. The BookLife Prize
Trust me, you’re in for a mind-bending ride...I had no idea how it would end. That’s what I look for in a book — unpredictability. Kam Brook, Kam's Place
The Nucleus of Reality is strange, existential, and curious. It might give you a lot to ponder about if you dig deep enough… [It] reminded me a tad of The Stranger by Albert Camus… [It's] a stream of consciousness first-person novel with the most unreliable narrator you’ve ever met. Rummy's Recs
A beautifully described story of a man trying to remember why he ended up losing everything but himself. Emily Quinn, A Quintillion Words
A clever interpretation of a man’s grief and depression. Melanie’s Reads
Background
The genesis of The Nucleus Reality, or The Recollections of Thomas P—, began in the queue for Wagamama in Liverpool. I was in that great city for a conference, and I was exhausted and somewhat disorientated. Really, I just wanted to go to bed, but I needed to eat more, and so there I was, standing in the queue, my mind racing but latching onto nothing.
Then, while I was waiting my turn, I saw the most extraordinary thing: A friend of mine, right there in front of me, exactly as she was twenty years ago. I was stunned. For a second I wondered whether it actually was her. But of course it wasn’t. Was it? And if it wasn’t her, how could someone look so much like her? And why now, why here, in a place with which neither of us had a connection?
It took an instant for me to realise that there was a story in this, and I began to construct the opening scenes while I waited to be seated. Realising that a) I would forget the details if I didn’t write them down and b) the whole story was crystallising in my mind in one go, I pulled out my notebook and started writing. For the rest of my meal, and under the puzzled gaze of the man sitting opposite me, I sketched out the plot from start to finish, writing in a blur, trying to pull down onto the page all the people, scenes and many, many ideas that filled my mind.
When the waitress, who with patience and kindness had indulged my distractedness, finally brought me the bill, I sat back and flicked through my notes. Here was a book, I realised, not just a set of ideas; moreover, a book that was ready to be written.
But it didn’t turn out like that. I had that experience in the restaurant towards the end of 2019, and we all know how things turned out the following spring. Still, the idea wound’t go away. Indeed, as I adapted and moulded it over the coming months, it grew, becoming ever more complex and so much more than a book about the consequences of someone realising they can no longer trust what they see.
It began to encompass ideas about the nature of memory and recall, our sense of identity, what it means to be disassociated from ourselves, how the cruel exploit the vulnerable and care nothing for the consequences, and the impact of severe mental illness on both the individual and those around them, all run through with a strong sense of the absurd.
Then in August 2020, I finally had the chance to start writing again. I thought it would be difficult to write this book, especially as I knew I wanted it to be in the first person, but it was strangely easy to find a voice and let it flow. I realised I’d been wanting to write something touching these topics for a very long time.
Then, while I was waiting my turn, I saw the most extraordinary thing: A friend of mine, right there in front of me, exactly as she was twenty years ago. I was stunned. For a second I wondered whether it actually was her. But of course it wasn’t. Was it? And if it wasn’t her, how could someone look so much like her? And why now, why here, in a place with which neither of us had a connection?
It took an instant for me to realise that there was a story in this, and I began to construct the opening scenes while I waited to be seated. Realising that a) I would forget the details if I didn’t write them down and b) the whole story was crystallising in my mind in one go, I pulled out my notebook and started writing. For the rest of my meal, and under the puzzled gaze of the man sitting opposite me, I sketched out the plot from start to finish, writing in a blur, trying to pull down onto the page all the people, scenes and many, many ideas that filled my mind.
When the waitress, who with patience and kindness had indulged my distractedness, finally brought me the bill, I sat back and flicked through my notes. Here was a book, I realised, not just a set of ideas; moreover, a book that was ready to be written.
But it didn’t turn out like that. I had that experience in the restaurant towards the end of 2019, and we all know how things turned out the following spring. Still, the idea wound’t go away. Indeed, as I adapted and moulded it over the coming months, it grew, becoming ever more complex and so much more than a book about the consequences of someone realising they can no longer trust what they see.
It began to encompass ideas about the nature of memory and recall, our sense of identity, what it means to be disassociated from ourselves, how the cruel exploit the vulnerable and care nothing for the consequences, and the impact of severe mental illness on both the individual and those around them, all run through with a strong sense of the absurd.
Then in August 2020, I finally had the chance to start writing again. I thought it would be difficult to write this book, especially as I knew I wanted it to be in the first person, but it was strangely easy to find a voice and let it flow. I realised I’d been wanting to write something touching these topics for a very long time.
© L.A. Davenport 2017-2024.
Cookies are used to improve your experience on this site and to better understand the audience. Find out more here.
The Nucleus of Reality | Pushing the Wave