Who is Grant Skelton?
Because Someone Needed to Tell the Truth About Power
My own disillusion with the state of UK politics pushed me toward writing a political thriller. It’s meant to be fiction, but the line between fantasy and possibility feels thinner every year. When you watch the same chaos, vanity, and backroom games play out in real life, it’s hard not to wonder how far from the truth a story like this really is. That tension is what drove me to write it — a world that isn’t real, but absolutely could be.
A Tory?
I’ve always been a traditional Tory at heart — the real kind, the kind Mrs Thatcher dared to be. Principled. Unapologetic. Serious about governing. What we’ve had in recent years is nothing like that. It’s been weak leadership, self-serving decisions, panicked U-turns and a party that’s forgotten what it’s supposed to stand for. The Conservative Party has abandoned the UK, and the country is living with the consequences. That disillusionment is a big part of why I write what I write.
A Communist?
Certainly not. Call anything strategic and someone will shout communism. It’s predictable. The ideas in this book sit nowhere near that territory. They’re rooted in the instinct to protect what a country builds, to stop power drifting into the hands of people who never stand for election, and to make sure Britain has a future that isn’t written in someone else’s boardroom. That isn’t ideology. That’s common sense.
Why not Socialism?
Socialism always sells itself as fairness until you look at the bill. The problem isn’t the intention. It’s the control. Thatcher put it best when she said socialists fear choice because the public might not choose socialism. That’s the point. I believe in choice, consequence, ambition, and the freedom to rise or fall on your own terms. Systems that promise everything end up delivering nothing except dependence. That’s why the world of this book never drifts into socialism. Power, cost, responsibility — they belong with people, not the state.
Why I write.
This is play. Pure and simple. Writing lets me empty the noise out of my head and make room for possibility — imagination, curiosity, and the delight of wandering into something absurd or downright silly. It’s a release, a reset, a chance to stay curious and stay foolish. I don’t do it for acclaim or analysis. I do it because it’s fun.
