Everything within takes place after Jack died and before mom and I drowned in a burning ferry in the cool tannin-tinted Guaviare River, in east-central Colombia, with forty-two locals we hadn’t yet met. It was a clear and eyeblue day, that day, as was the first day of this story, a few years ago in January, on Chicago’s north side, in the opulent shadow of Wrigley and with the wind coming low and searching off the jagged half-frozen lake. I was inside, very warm, walking from door to door.

That is what the cover says. And this is possibly all the introduction the book needs. Our narrator Will is destroyed by the death of his friend Jack, he will be born and die with his mother, and he will spend the rest of his story not inside and warm, but constantly walking and moving. Chasing a life that is not his own.

I can only tell you that I enjoyed this story, its pace, and its application of concept in both plot and expression.