SIMPATICO PUBLISHING INTERVIEW WITH JUDE LUCAS "All the Time" - Post-Publication Interview

Simpatico Publishing: Jude, "All the Time" feels incredibly prescient given our current social media landscape. What sparked this story—was there a specific moment when you thought "this is where we're heading"?

Jude Lucas: Back in 2024; I'm in a Koreatown dive bar, neon buzzing like a headache, scrolling X with a whiskey sweating in my hand. Some influencer's groveling in a staged "apology" video—perfect tears, perfect lighting—but the hashtags,

#CancelHer,

#SheFell,

are tearing her apart like digital wolves.

Then I catch a post about an AI firm bragging they can "shape narratives" for brands, and it clicks: what if the outrage isn't real?

What if someone's rigging the game?

I scribbled Elliot Voss's name on a bar napkin—fake accent, fake love, caught in a machine that chews up souls.

That's when I saw it: we're not heading there.

We're already neck-deep in the algorithm's jaws.

Simpatico Publishing: The book reads like a warning shot about algorithmic manipulation disguised as a thriller. Were you consciously writing social commentary, or did the themes emerge organically?

Jude: I don't sit down to preach—that's for suckers.

I wanted a story that'd kick you in the teeth, a thriller that'd make your pulse race like a bad high.But you can't write about Elliot faking his way through fame without staring down the beast: algorithms that decide who's a saint, who's a sinner, based on what sells.

Back when I was pouring shots in Hollywood, I'd hear these wannabe stars plotting their "authentic" X posts—every word calculated, just like KaneTrade's data games.

The commentary bled in because it's the air we breathe—social media's a cage, and "All the Time" just shows the bars.

Simpatico Publishing:  Elliot's voice—that Liverpool grit bleeding through a manufactured posh accent—is so distinctive. How did you develop that specific vocal style?

Jude: Elliot's voice is pure LA alchemy—born from the city's split soul, all glamour and grime. Growing up here, I'd sling drinks for actors who'd fake posh accents to charm casting directors, but when they got drunk, their real selves—maybe a Bronx snarl or a Texas twang—would slip.

For Elliot, I borrowed that hustle, giving him a Scouse edge from UK punks I'd meet at my bar, spinning tales of Liverpool chippy brawls over cheap vodka.

Then I layered on that Hampshire gloss, all vocal-coach slick, like the Hollywood mirage I know too well.

I'd mutter his lines in my loft, letting the Scouse growl when he's raw. It's a cracked mask, his truth fighting the lie in every syllable.

Simpatico Publishing:  Lila Kane could have been just another "fallen princess" trope, but she's far more complex. What was important to you about her character arc?

Jude: Lila's no victim—she's a blade wrapped in silk.

I wanted her to start as this Instagram idol, all surgeries and Coachella scandals, but peel back to a woman who's sharp, pissed, and done being her family's puppet.

Her arc's about stealing the wheel—going from performing redemption to rigging a dead man's switch that burns KaneTrade to ash.

Those red-rimmed eyes in Chapter 11?

She's complex because nobody's just a hashtag, no matter how hard Virtue Verse tries to flatten her. I wrote her to spit in the face of every "fallen princess" cliché.

Simpatico Publishing:  What research did you do into how people can be "disappeared" from online existence?

Jude: I dug into X threads about deplatforming—folks losing accounts overnight for crossing the wrong corporate line.

There was this 2024 case, some whistleblower who exposed a data scam, and poof—their X profile, Insta, even old blog posts, gone like they never were.

I studied how AI can scrub search results, shadowban voices, or rewrite digital history.

That's not dystopia—that's what happens when you're inconvenient to the algorithm. It's real, and it's fucking chilling.

Simpatico Publishing:  The phrase "virtue signaling" gets thrown around a lot, but you've created a world where it's literally weaponized through algorithms. How close do you think we are to that reality?

Jude: We're not close—we're in it.

X is a circus of manufactured outrage.

Hashtags like

#PureLiving or

#SaveOurSouls pop off, and you think it's people?

Nah, it's bots, PR firms, data sharks pushing "clean living" apps or political agendas.

I saw a 2024 X post about a "decency campaign" that was just a front for a surveillance startup—straight outta KaneTrade's playbook.

"All the Time" just makes it explicit with Virtue Verse, but the real world's already got the script.

We're dancing to their code, and most don't even hear the beat.

Simpatico Publishing: Heroin functions both literally and metaphorically in the story—as escape from performance pressure. Can you talk about that choice?

Jude: Heroin's Elliot's dark mirror.

It's real—those bathroom scenes, cooking gear with shaking hands, that's him running from the spotlight's burn.

But it's also the metaphor for fame's trap: a quick hit to dull the pain of being "on" 24/7, playing Britain's golden boy while X dissects his every blink.

I picked heroin because it's raw, ugly, no Hollywood gloss—just a needle and a price.

Like LA itself, it promises escape but delivers chains.

Elliot's highs are his rebellion against performance, but they're also his cage.

That's the truth of addiction, and fame's no different.

Simpatico Publishing: The book suggests that moral panic is now a manufactured product. Do you see examples of this happening in real life?

Jude: Every damn day.

X is a factory for it—2023's "satanic" pop star drama, 2024's "immoral influencer" witch hunts.

These aren't accidents; they're engineered.

Bots amplify, firms seed hashtags, and suddenly everyone's clutching pearls over a music video or a bad tweet.

It's all product—selling apps, votes, or just clicks.

#LilaLost in the book?

That's every real-world scandal where a 30-second clip becomes a moral crusade.

The machine's not new; we're just too busy retweeting to see who's winding the gears.

Simpatico Publishing: The pacing is relentless—very cinematic. Do you write with visual adaptation in mind?

Jude: I don't write for Hollywood, but my head's a movie screen—LA's grimy alleys, KaneTrade's neon galas,

Elliot's needle glinting in a loft.

Bartending taught me rhythm: pour fast, talk sharp, keep the crowd hooked.

Each chapter's a shot—red carpet flash, dive bar kiss, Venice shithole—cutting hard to the next. I want readers to feel Elliot's pulse, like they're running from Rex's fixer. Cinematic? Sure, but it's just how I see the world: beauty and blood, no slow pans, just raw fucking life.

Simpatico Publishing: Each chapter feels like a perfectly timed reveal. How do you structure that kind of escalating tension?

Jude: Like a bar fight—start with a spark, build to a swing, end with a body on the floor.

I sketch a loose outline, just enough to know where the knives come out: Lila's truth in, Sadie's erasure, Elliot's door-or-needle choice.

Every chapter's a trap—secrets, lies, a new crack in the mask.

I write to keep myself on edge, piling dread on Elliot 'til it's a physical thing.

The moor in "Watching Moor" taught me that: fog closes in, you hear a branch snap, and you're fucked.

That's how I build tension—one step, one heartbeat, no way out.

Simpatico Publishing:  "All the Time" pulls no punches about celebrity culture and manufactured relationships. Any pushback from the industry?

Jude: Oh, yeah. Some Hollywood sharks slid into my DMs, pissed that Lila's arc cut too close to their PR stunts.

Nobody loves a book that spills their secrets—fake romances, rigged scandals, it's all real. Got a few "watch yourself" vibes from folks who'd rather keep the algorithm's dirt buried. But LA's a machine; it chews up complainers.

The real pushback's silence—those quiet types who know "All the Time's" truth hurts.

Try shutting me up, though—good fucking luck.

Simpatico Publishing: What's next for you? Are you staying in this dystopian tech-thriller space?

Jude: I'm hooked on the dark, mate—tech's a demon, and I'm still swinging.

Next up's a novel in near-future London, where AI therapists rewrite your memories to "optimize" you.

Less thriller, more mind-fuck, but it's got "All the Time's" teeth: what's real when your past's a product?

Also got a short story collection brewing—dive-bar tales with a supernatural edge, like "Watching Moor's" ghosts.

Whatever I write, it'll be raw, bloody, and probably make someone nervous.

That's my thing.

Simpatico Publishing:  If you could get this book into the hands of one specific type of reader, who would it be and why?

Jude: The kids drowning in X, chasing likes like it's oxygen, thinking a hashtag's their heartbeat.

Not to lecture—I'd rather pour 'em a shot—but to show what Elliot, Lila, and Sadie learned: the algorithm's not your god.

They're living "All the Time's" world, where one bad post can erase you.

I want them to read it, feel that spark to fight back, to choose real over the feed's lies. They're the ones who can break the cage, one truth at a time.

Simpatico Publishing:  In our hashtag-driven world, what would YOUR hashtag be?

Jude: #KeepItRaw.

That's my creed—write raw, live raw, no polish, no lies.

In a world where X demands perfect posts, I'm the bastard spilling whiskey and truth, writing from the edge like I did in Edale, fog on my neck, blade in my hand.

#KeepItRaw's my fuck-you to the algorithm, my vow to stay real, whether I'm in LA's neon or the moor's dark.

Join me in the raw, and let's bleed it together.

"All the Time" is published by Simpatico Publishing.