The Author

Hello, and welcome to the home of “apok”, the debut novel from Adrian Baker. As a teenager Adrian developed what only can be described as a bespoke version of Asperger’s Syndrome, a version inclusive of many defining traits*, the profound effects of which, he has never been able to shake. Using the condition’s characteristics to his advantage, apok is a brave, uncompromising and explicitly detailed analysis of one man’s war, compounded by the horror of mankind’s failings. Apok is a modern tale for a modern era, its author a writer whose brutal honesty reflects the demands of the modern reader.

A note from Adrian:

From the age of thirteen I have had to endure the effects of my particular type of Asperger’s Syndrome (AS), a type bespoke to me, as I guess, AS is more or less bespoke to everyone it affects. Despite this, when something does interest me, I don’t know how, but I switch on with an almost fearless outlook, in that I’m gregarious and curious, and more than willing to push my own boundaries. Hence, the onset of this condition saw something else develop, a burning ambition that became an obsession: the desire to write a book. And not just any book! Since my childhood ghost stories have always fascinated me, monsters and vampires, things that go bump in the night, the video age finally putting pictures to my thoughts. Add this macabre blend to a rich diet of historical epics, westerns and war films, from Ben Hur to Clint’s broody Fist Full of Dollars to the star-studded The Wild Geese, and you have a glimpse of what makes me tick.

What I’m trying to give, is what I think today’s readers want, a sophisticated gore and horror extravaganza that has real substance, an amount of intrigue and detailed depth to give the narrative greater perspective, to enable audiences to properly connect and engage at a deeper level. This is what scares people most – when it hits home – when the reader actually thinks: could this happen to me; surely not, could it? And then you have ‘em ….

…. Because what I am really trying to convey, is given the right conditions, the means and the motive, we are all capable of anything. For horror in anyone’s life is just a stone’s throw away, so why not you instead of those you always read about or see on the news.

To take you back to the beginning, during my school years I was considered a grade ‘A’ student, or thereabouts, in most subjects, tipped for possible university greatness, right up until my GCSE exams, where instead of success, the results suggested something quite the opposite. Though my one and only grade ‘C’ pass in Art was a tremendous disappointment to my parents, it was the culmination of something that I knew lurked, but could never put my finger on, something that was not identified until I was forty-five years old, and still live with. It hasn’t been an easy ride; a daily battle if I’m to be honest. But if I am truly grateful to anything, it is the one thing that has held me together throughout this entire period, my unconditional love for film. Emotion is difficult for me, but in film I found a medium to which I could easily relate and identify with, as if we had always been the best of friends. And the great quality of my new best friend was that it constantly evolved as I evolved, as my AS evolved. In my eyes, it was and shall always remain a perfect harmony.

Born in Worcester, I grew up in south Birmingham. The 70s and the emerging digital age was a fun time to be a kid. They were undoubtedly the best years of my life. I wanted for nothing and asked for very little; I was a very contented child.

But that enthusiasm took a different slant in my secondary school. From the first day you could literally feel the peer pressure building. It was horrible! We were once again small fish in a large pond, except in our new surroundings we felt smaller than small, tiny to the point of being infinitesimal, in an overcrowded pond that had sprung a leak; a pond inhabited by bigger, nastier fish, where every day was a worst case scenario of ‘this town’s not big enough for any of us, but there’s nowhere for anyone to go’; a lose-lose situation that saw you dragged backwards through a groundhog Lord of the Flies re-enactment, but more sadistic. Needless to say, this was where I encountered bullying for the first time, initially happening to others, my friends amongst them, then to me. It was a phenomenon that simply took me by surprise. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I wasn’t equipped for it. But what bothered me most was how random and how quick it could strike. That was the element I found scary. Couple this fear with my growing inadequacies in communicating socially, let alone stressful situations, and I was cannon fodder, or more appropriately, fish-food for the ever present predators. It was as if all the bullies in the world had declared open season on me. That wasn’t true, but that is how it felt; always on tenterhooks, thinking I was under threat twenty-four-seven, unable to distinguish deliberate taunts from accidental poor humour, biting at any jibe or challenge that came my way, never backing down, the constant grind gruelling.

After five years, plus a spell in Sixth Form trying to better my grades, I was glad for school to finally end. With no apparent bright future ahead of me, and even bleaker prospects, I applied for an apprenticeship to be an electrician. It was a shot to nothing. Twelve hundred vied for eighty places. I remember sitting the entrance exam with two hundred others thinking that if this is one of six sittings, I’ve got no chance; only to hear a fortnight later that I’d passed, and that was me for the next twenty-four years.

My electrical career saw me diversify into data cabling, installing computer networks, and when the time was right, join the ranks of the self-employed and cash in on the booming construction industry. The trade served me well, and by a coincidence it is how I met my wife. Wherever I worked, whether it was in the UK or Europe, my job as an electrician enabled me to meet many different kinds of people, whose cultures I always embraced, and learned from.

It was this philosophy of embracing everything that took me into teaching, and in learning to help others I have learned how to help myself, which in turn has helped me to understand my particular version of AS, and possibly be the happiest I’ve ever been.

I’ve been teaching in colleges for nine years now, training future generations of electricians, eager to put my stamp on how young people should develop and be nurtured in the workplace; forever mindful of my own experience and how bullying, in the real world, is never too far away. These days I promote a proactive anti-bullying strategy, equipping young people with the necessary tools they need. During my career in construction disputes and violence between workers was commonplace, you either toughened up fast or got out. Thankfully, this is not the picture in construction today, and though the world is still a troubled place, here in the UK, instead of perpetuating old prejudices, we celebrate our cultural diversity by being inclusive to all, recognising as a nation what each section of society brings to the table and how best we all can benefit from one another’s strengths.

Looking back on my life, putting my family upbringing to one side, I am grateful for my schooling, my careers in construction, and especially in teaching, but with bitter-sweet reluctance, I am also indebted to how bullying has shaped me. I was lucky. I got through my baptism of fire. I’m not saying it didn’t come without its fair share of pain; the learning curve is as brutal as it’s ruthless, until you’re the one preying on them – a monster of your own making. It’s a vicious circle, violence breeds violence, but if you can curb that cycle, using violence as a last resort rather than relying on it, then there’s a chance it can be controlled, and therefore reduced, until one day there’ll be no reason for it to exist at all.

Here’s looking forward to that day ….