Only the title is missing

How far can a writer go to tell their story? Is it possible to write a book with their own life? Transform one's own steps into chapters, identity into a character, and the world into involuntary readers? More than simply asking such questions, these are the challenges Edmundo Dornelles, a disillusioned proofreader and aspiring novelist, sets for himself. Now in his 40s, having spent the meager inheritance from his father and living in a small apartment in a run-down area of Porto Alegre, the embittered Edmundo is getting no answers from publishers about the manuscripts he compulsively produces and is accumulating a pent-up rage against editors, writers, critics, society, and almost humanity in general. When he becomes a freelance proofreader for Editora Record, he has a glimmer of hope: he believes that with his contact with editorial assistant Tatiana Fagundes and the inopportune comments she gives on the works he reviews, he will finally find space. All that was missing was the title, which masterfully presents us with its uncontrollable narrator attacking everything and everyone (from the publishing market to the judicial system), with scenes from detective fiction, with courtroom scenes and with humor, in a violent flow of thought, which does not fail to reflect on these and other aspects of literature, the publishing market, art and even everyday issues.