A.P. Atkinson

Who is A.P. Atkinson and why is he called 'Jack'?

A.P. Atkinson was born in London, England in the latter part of the twentieth century. It was a time when technology was about to bring the dawn of a new age, and when technology hadn’t yet been used to crush the spirit of humanity, although the intelligence had already taken a bit of a beating.

He was a keen reader and one of those annoying kids who always got their story read out in class by the teacher; it annoyed him more than anyone else. He grew up just as Star Wars was released on an unsuspecting public. That began a lifelong interest in all things science-fiction.

He comes from a family of motorcycle fanatics. When he was sixteen he bought a box of mixed parts and assembled a scooter out of it. That was the beginning of a fascination with trying to kill himself by riding too fast on poorly-maintained machines that he’d cobbled together himself. Surviving this far has been very much against the odds.

It was some time later that his closest friend challenged him to write a novel and then buggered off to Japan to work as an editor. He discovered alcohol, caffeine and that he has several hilarious mental-health issues.

He wrote all he could and was eventually published at the age of nineteen by a niche publisher in America that was later sued by the authors and then vanished one night under mysterious circumstances.

Finally he decided to leave England and try to kill himself on more interesting foreign roads in far-flung parts of the world. He toured Europe, the Middle East and Asia and eventually became an English teacher specialising in novel-analysis and not specialising in grammar.

He now writes what he aims to be the smart end of entertaining fiction, stories that have detailed, interesting plots and vibrant, believable characters. He also writes non-fiction travel journals that detail his abundant stupidity and lacklustre grasp on reality. His work includes a sci-fi comedy set in the imagination of a sentient brick, a complete drama/comedy trilogy about secret technology, literary science-fiction, contemporary drama, horror and numerous short stories that defy description, reason and any kind of point.

He frequently collaborates with his old friend, Seth Godwynn, who edits his work and the two have written several complete novels together.

A.P. Atkinson looks forward to a future where he will be too old to exercise and won’t have to feel guilty about getting fat.

He hates vampire-fiction, poetry and Bill Gates.

Click to follow Jack if you desperately need to see more pictures of a man with the personality of a tumour.
Click to find out that Jack doesn’t really understand Twitter, or why anyone would want to follow him.
Pictures of a man who’s less photogenic than a violent crime. Who wouldn’t want to have a look at this train-wreck?

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Click to go directly to see Jack’s video blogs.  It’s even worse than you think it’s going to be.
Jack has a homepage where it’s basically the same crap you see here, but it also includes grumpy motorcycle reviews. Avoid.