The Invention of Andreas
by Zoran Tosic Tosha a.k.a ZT Tosha

A man creates another man to escape himself—only to watch the invention become more real than its creator. This is the confession of what remains.

Andreas Lundqvist Bjork seems brilliant, composed, and profound. His therapy sessions and philosophical writings trace a mind wrestling with identity and meaning. But Andreas does not exist. He is a construct—built from grief, memory, and borrowed truths by a nameless narrator who can no longer bear his own.

What begins as therapeutic exploration becomes a metafictional unraveling. Through therapy transcripts, diary fragments, and philosophical notes, the boundaries between creator and creation dissolve. Who is confessing? Whose pain is real? When does performance become identity?

Influenced by Beckett, Knausgaard, Auster, and Bernhard, The Invention of Andreas is a philosophical descent into the fictions we build to survive—asking what remains when the mask becomes stronger than the face beneath.

ZT Tosha, known for his “blur” technique in visual art and the deconstruction of form, brings that same distortion to narrative. The novel ends with The Custodian, a stark epilogue in which the narrator becomes the keeper of his own ghost.

This is not a comforting book. It is a mirror held to the self we invent, the grief we curate, and the terrifying freedom of admitting the lie.

“I built a man from borrowed bones and called him my salvation. Now I am the ghost he left behind.”