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The Academy of the Greek Comics Awards has announced the nominations for this year’s awards, and Gra-Grou, the unique graphic novel by Tassos Zafeiradis, Yannis Palavos and Thanasis Petrou, with music by Michalis Siganidis, has secured five nominations: Best Comic, Best Script, Best Artwork, Best Cover and Best Art Direction! Gra-Grou unfolds an atmospheric story, where tradition intersects with the present and the realistic narrative is undermined by elements of the fantastical. Set against the backdrop of the eponymous restaurant, a landmark in Northern Greece for an entire era, the book crafts a charming gallery of characters just before each of them chooses the ‘big Yes or the big No’.The book is now in its second edition and continues to receive rave reviews from readers and critics alike.The award ceremony will take place on Friday 20 April at 9.00 pm in the Auditorium of the French Institute of Greece. Read more about the book here.

The Public Book Awards welcome readers for the fifth year running! The first phase of voting has already begun and will conclude on 20 April.Last year, Kiki Dimoula won the Award for Best Poetry Collection (Anoteleia), and Eftychia Giannaki the Award for Best Greek Novel (Sto pisw katisima).This year’s event marks a landmark year for Greece, given Athens’ designation as UNESCO World Book Capital for 2018.Readers are invited to highlight the books that stood out from the 2017 literary output, choosing from eleven different award categories.In addition to these, there will also be three special awards, in which readers do not participate by voting (Best Illustration in a Children’s Book Award, Publishing Imprint Award, and Public Bookshops Award).Books published by Ikaros are nominated in five different award categories. View our nominations (by category) along with the links for each one and vote for your favourite books: Greek novel:Eftychia Giannaki – Halcyon Days: http://bit.ly/AkyonidesMeres18Ισμήνη Kapantaï – Townhouse in Halandri: http://bit.ly/AstikiOikiaStoChalandri18Κυριάκος Margaritis – Kronaka: http://bit.ly/Kronaka18Δημήτρης Nollas – The Garden in Flames: http://bit.ly/OKiposStisFloges18 Translated novel: Vicente Alfonso – The Remains of Saint Lawrence (translation: Maria Palaiologou): http://bit.ly/TaLeipsanaTouAgiouLaurentiou18Jean Echenoz – Special Envoy (translation: Achilleas Kyriakidis): http://bit.ly/EidikiApestalmeni18Neil Gaiman – Neverwhere (translation: Maria Angelidou): http://bit.ly/PotekaiPouthena18Hannah Kent – The Good People (translation: Maria Angelidou): http://bit.ly/OiKaloi18George Saunders – Oblivion and Lincoln (translation: Giorgos-Ikaros Babasakis): http://bit.ly/LithiKaiLinkoln18Enrique Vila-Matas – In Kassel There Is No Logic (translation: Nanna Papanikolaou): http://bit.ly/StoKaselDenYparxeiLogiki18Alejandro Zambra – The Private Life of Trees (translation: Achilleas Kyriakidis): http://bit.ly/IdiotikiZoiTonDentron18  Greek non-fiction: Athanasios Alexandridis – Childhood Loves: http://bit.ly/PaidikoiErotes18Χρήστος Giannaras – Fall-Crisis-Hell: http://bit.ly/PtosiKrisiKolasi18Απόστολος Doxiadis – Saying and Saying Again: http://bit.ly/LegontasKaiKsanalegontas18Αλέξανδρος Kostopoulos – Bridges of Cooperation – The Marshall Plan and Greece: http://bit.ly/GefiresSinergasias18Τάκης Pappas – On a tightrope: http://bit.ly/SeTentomenoSkoini18Έφη Sapouna-Sakellaraki – When time spoke: http://bit.ly/OtanMiliseOChronos18  Contemporary Greek Poetry: Yannis Antiochos – Dissolution: http://bit.ly/Dialisis18Γιάννης Metaxas – But afterwards, afterwards...: http://bit.ly/MetaOmosMeta18Κυριάκος Charalambidis – Of the Sun and the Moon: http://bit.ly/IliouKaiSelinisAlos18Γιώργος K. Psaltis – You: http://bit.ly/Esena18  Greek Children’s Literature: Alexia Vernikou – All the Way to the Sky and Back (illustrations: Sofia Touliatou): http://bit.ly/MexriTonOuranoKaiPiso18Ιουλίτα Iliopoulou – But when will this Wizard arrive? (illustrations: Yannis Kottis – music: Giorgos Kouroupos): http://bit.ly/MaPoteThaFthaseiAytosOMagos18Μιχάλης Moulakis – A yellow leaf (illustrations: Filippos Fotiadis): http://bit.ly/EnaKitrinoFyllo18Θοδωρής Papaioannou – Silouani (illustrations: Daniela Stamatia): http://bit.ly/Silouani18Άλκηστη Halikia – Silan’s Box (illustrations: Daniela Stamatia): http://bit.ly/ToKoutiTouSilan18

The Athenian artist recounts his life to LIFO and Yannis Pantazopoulos on the occasion of the publication of his book *At the Bottom of Dreams*—Images from Andreas Embeirikos’s Octana, as well as his exhibition at the Zoumboulakis Gallery (open until Saturday 31 March). You can read an excerpt below: Photo: Paris Tavitian/LIFO I was born in Athens in 1945. Our family home was at number 23 Ypsilantou Street in Kolonaki. This large house, which has now been demolished, was a paradise of childhood adventure and exploration, full of dark corners, hidden spaces and a large, winding wooden staircase connecting the floors. It was a staircase where, at every turn, strange sounds, whispers, anxieties and fears from our childhood imaginations lurked. I grew up with parents who loved poetry and literature dearly. They had a natural affinity for the arts, and all that richness was passed on to us, without ever being imposed on us as an obligation. My mother was a teacher and my father a lawyer. So, our home was a place of ideas and reading was a matter of course. From my early secondary school years, I had made it clear what I would do in life and what I would pursue. Perhaps it is an inexplicable instinct that leads you to ‘something’. I studied printmaking at the Athens School of Fine Arts and then painting on a German government scholarship at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. However, I believe that talent only exists through hard work. One may possess the raw power that guides one towards the bigger picture, but in order for this to become conscious, a framework, an environment and a culture are needed. During my childhood and teenage years, I travelled extensively in Germany. Memories of many childhood summers are linked to that country. I had experiences that connected me to a civilisation and a culture that helped shape my identity. Later, from 1977 to 1986, I lived in Berlin, whilst until 1992 I lived and worked in Brussels.Ypsilantou Street, in its extension, connected the ‘cultured’ Kolonaki with the magical, fairy-tale world of Evangelismos Park, where, amidst the green flowerbeds and statues, Vasilis, the photographer. A beloved guardian of black-and-white memories, surrounded by photographs, negatives and posed shots on painted backdrops or against a flower-filled backdrop for the secret romances of conscripts on leave with the maids from the neighbouring houses.The balconies of our house looked out directly onto the British Embassy and its gardens. In the summers, we watched from above the open-air receptions, the arrivals of dignitaries in their evening gowns and tailcoats amongst the palm trees, like scenes from the mythical sequences of the first colour films. For years we believed that the British ambassador was none other than the dapper man in the gold uniform. Much later it was revealed to us that, despite all his pomp, he was merely a driver, and the real ambassador was the seemingly insignificant, grey little man who accompanied him. It was a discrepancy that proved significant for my subsequent understanding of the world. And this became most apparent during my school years, when, from a tender age, I had become involved in a romantic relationship with the young daughter of the embassy driver, who also lived in the staff quarters.The revelation of the true roles and identities of the individuals brought us down to earth with a bump, into a reality where, through the harshness of romantic rejection, we learnt relatively early on the complex relationship between being and appearing, between the obvious and the obscured truth of the world, between overt and covert social power. In the corner of our house, Ypsilantou and Loukianou, in the square by the British Embassy, our political consciousness first awoke when, overnight, the lower section of Loukianou Street suddenly changed its name and was renamed Karaoli-Dimitriou. Further up, next to the little dairy in Lykovrysi, on the upper side of Kolonaki Square, stood the mysterious figure of an elderly man who sat, come winter or summer, on a small wooden box. He sold precious treasures from our childhood reading world, such as second-hand issues of ‘Little Heroes’. This legendary man reminded me of a work by Magritte: a seated male figure wearing a hat, through the open collar of which you can see, in place of his body, a cage with a bird. Read the rest here.

Lina Rokou, on the occasion of the publication of her first novel, The End of Hunger, gave a very interesting interview to Womantoc.gr and Efi Alevizou. You can read it below: Lina has vibrant, red hair and a lively writing style. She tackles many things. From poetry to city reporting and from interviews to the latest trends. She is what – for the sake of brevity – we would describe as a ‘child of her time’. A time that is strange and edgy, cheerful and gloomy. An era that is changing rapidly, with new existential questions springing up to join the list of those already unanswered and fundamental: How do you deconstruct the other to reach their core? Can you buy their wisdom, and at what price? Could a lollipop serve as payment? Her first book, The End of Hunger, may well hold all the answers. If, of course, such answers exist at all.-What is the story of The End of Hunger? A strange series of transactions begins between the unemployed Emma and the junk dealer San when the former sells the latter her organs and body parts, whilst the shadow of an old love falls over the relationship that develops. How are the body, reason and emotion deconstructed when we give ourselves to someone? Is there a price to pay for the joy of love? How do we pay it back? I would describe it as a next-door story with strong doses of paranoid romanticism.-Give me a summary of your story. Where are you from and where are you going? I grew up in Corfu until I was 19. My parents live there, so I go back often. My relationship with Corfu has shaped me more than anything else in my life. For me, Corfu is a living organism; it nourishes me, it torments me, it heals me. But it’s better from a distance. Relationships that intense don’t last long in everyday life. I love Pagrati and Mets. I don’t think I could live anywhere else in Athens. I work at Popaganda, I’m out and about in the city a lot, I try to make the most of what it has to offer. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m interested in the present; I reflect on the past but don’t feel nostalgic for it; I think about the future but recognise that I can’t predetermine it—perhaps only build it, and even that only to a certain extent.-You’re a prolific journalist. What does writing mean to you? As a journalist, writing is my job. A job I chose and love. It’s torture, I think, to do something professionally that you don’t like, because just think how many hours a day we work. I almost liken doing a job I don’t fancy to sleeping with a man I don’t desire.-How difficult is it for someone to write a book? What else, apart from writing ability, is required? I don’t know if it’s easy or difficult, generally speaking. For me, the easiest part was the writing itself, and the most demanding part was the editing and proofreading. I read the book countless times, editing, changing, tweaking. I was mainly preoccupied with the ‘editing’, by which I mean that the whole story wasn’t written in a linear fashion. I proceeded using both my logic and my instinct. There were, however, chapters that were written in one go and I hardly touched them at all. I think it requires dedication. You have to be preoccupied with writing your book not only when you’re actually writing it, but also during the rest of the day. In a way, the book becomes an integral part of you; you can’t get it out of your head. Credit: Dimitris Koulelis – Name three books of contemporary literature that have left you speechless.‘Bring Me Maria Kensora’s Head’, the collection of short stories by Panos Tsirou that gives me palpitations every time I read it. ‘Amberludachamin’, a long poem by Samson Raka, the most important poet of our generation. Thirdly, ‘Fin’s Hair’ by Eva Stefanis, for the raw paradox it exudes. – How many hours a day did you work on your book, and how long did it take you to finish it? There was no set schedule. There were days when I didn’t write anything (but I was constantly thinking about it) and others when I spent hours, with the necessary breaks, in front of the screen. I started writing in March 2014 and finished the first draft in August 2014. However, I picked it up again and worked on it intensively from August 2015 until October of the same year. And once more, in early 2017, when I actually changed the ending. Thankfully! – A line from your book that means a lot to you.‘Desire undermines my human existence. I love daisies and hedgehogs. When you come near me, I’ll growl at you. Don’t be afraid. It’s my nature.’ Read the first few pages of the book here.