What’s the story behind the story? What inspired you to write this book?
I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that we’ve put a man on the moon, developed artificial intelligence, and transplanted human hearts, yet somehow still need eleven people and a PowerPoint presentation to decide who should order the printer paper.
But the real inspiration came from my wife. For years, I’ve listened in disbelief to stories from her workplace. The politics. The alliances. The astonishing injustices. Perfectly intelligent adults behaving like rival prison gangs the moment someone mentions a promotion. Honestly, some offices sound like minimum-security prisons with better coffee. There’s the warden, the inmates, the informants, and that one person who somehow controls everything despite having no identifiable job.
But what really struck me was how often decent, hard working people pay the price while those who master the politics get promoted. So I started dissecting the unwritten rules of this corporate jungle: what people say, what they actually mean, what you’re desperately trying not to say, and how to survive without becoming the next agenda item. Because the meeting is never just the meeting. And nothing builds character quite like keeping a straight face while your manager explains a solution to a problem they created.
If you had to pick theme songs for the main characters of your book, what would they be? (Meant to be fun. Skip if you need to!)
Oh, that’s easy. Every corporate ecosystem has its own soundtrack.
– “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” — Tears for Fears. For the manager who treats a department of six people like a geopolitical superpower.
– “Smooth Criminal” — Michael Jackson. For the colleague who steals your idea, presents it as their own, gets promoted and then invites you to a meeting about the importance of teamwork.
– “The Sound of Silence” — Simon & Garfunkel. For that magical moment when the boss asks for honest feedback and twelve highly educated adults suddenly become fascinated by the carpet.
– And finally, “Another One Bites the Dust” — Queen. For the employee who made the fatal mistake of saying, “Actually, I have a question.”
The only thing missing is a laugh track. Unfortunately, HR has classified that as inappropriate workplace behavior.
What’s your favorite genre to read? Is it the same as your favorite genre to write?
I love humor, satire, psychology and anything that exposes the extraordinary nonsense hiding inside ordinary human behavior. I’m particularly fascinated by the invisible rules governing how people behave, especially when you put them inside an organization, give them job titles and convince them they’re all working toward the same objective. Suddenly, perfectly intelligent adults start behaving like rival medieval kingdoms with Microsoft Teams accounts.
That’s also what I love writing about. I think humor is one of the few ways you can tell people an uncomfortable truth without immediately triggering a defensive PowerPoint presentation. A good joke makes you laugh. A great joke makes you laugh, stop, and think, “Hang on. I do that.” And in corporate life, that realization usually requires a follow-up meeting.
What books are on your TBR pile right now?
My reading pile has reached the stage where it should probably have its own organizational chart. There’s humor, psychology, satire, and several books about human behavior, which is a polite way of saying I’m professionally interested in why intelligent people make spectacularly stupid decisions.
I also have a terrible habit of buying books faster than I can read them. Apparently, owning a book and reading it are two entirely different hobbies. One of them I’m excellent at. The unread books have now formed a committee to investigate my productivity. They’ve scheduled a meeting. Attendance is mandatory.
What scene in your book was your favorite to write?
I have a particular affection for the moments when corporate exploitation gets dressed up as a career opportunity. Like when your manager announces that, because of your outstanding performance, you’ve been selected to take on the responsibilities of three colleagues who’ve just left. No promotion. No pay raise. Just an exciting opportunity to demonstrate your leadership potential. Congratulations. You’ve been promoted from employee to entire department. Your salary remains a deeply personal matter.
And then there are the well-meaning colleagues who genuinely want to help you but somehow manage to make everything catastrophically worse. The kind who jump into a meeting to defend you and accidentally reveal the one piece of information you’d spent six weeks trying to keep out of that meeting. They’re not your enemies. They’re just exceptionally gifted at friendly fire.
I love these situations because beneath the absurdity lies something painfully recognizable: the strange gap between what people say, what they mean and what actually happens. Corporate life is possibly the only place where being rewarded for doing a good job can mean being given three more jobs without getting the financial raise that should go along with it.
Do you have any quirky writing habits? (lucky mugs, cats on laps, etc.)
I’ve developed the unfortunate habit of mentally translating corporate language into what people actually mean:
“Let’s circle back” usually means “I’d like this problem to become somebody else’s problem.” “Quick sync” means “Your afternoon has been selected for sacrifice.”
And “We’re like a family here” is usually the opening statement in a very expensive divorce.
The problem is, once you start dissecting human behavior, you can’t switch it off. Every conversation becomes a psychological field study, and every meeting feels like a wildlife documentary with worse catering.
My wife has also learned that telling me about a bad day at work is dangerous. She wants sympathy. I want the exact wording, the seating arrangement, and whether the manager said “moving forward” before or after throwing someone under the bus. She’s trying to have a conversation with her husband. I’m preparing evidence for a parliamentary inquiry. Apparently, this is not always helpful.
Do you have a motto, quote or philosophy you live by?
I’d rather earn a little less and own my Mondays than earn a fortune and spend Sundays dreading them.
I’ve always valued independence more than titles, prestige, or having my name printed on a door that I still need someone else’s permission to close. There’s something wonderfully liberating about being a company of one. You make your decisions, take responsibility for your mistakes and never have to schedule a meeting to discuss whether you’re allowed to make a decision.
Of course, working for yourself has its drawbacks. My boss is demanding, my employee is occasionally incompetent and our annual performance reviews have become deeply uncomfortable. And it goes without saying that the annual Christmas Parties are quite…lonely.
But I have enormous respect for people navigating corporate life every day. Some genuinely love it. Others are building careers, supporting families and doing their best inside systems they didn’t design. I just believe success shouldn’t be measured exclusively by how much you earn or how impressive your job title sounds. Because there’s no point climbing the corporate ladder if every rung costs you a little more of yourself. And personally, I find that being underpaid by one idiot is considerably easier to tolerate when the idiot is me.
If you could choose one thing for readers to remember after reading your book, what would it be?
Never confuse being good at your job with being good at surviving your workplace.
They’re two entirely different skills. Unfortunately, only one gets covered during onboarding. You can be brilliant at what you do and still lose an argument to someone whose greatest professional achievement is knowing when to say “Let’s circle back.” You can work harder, deliver better results, and watch someone who contributed absolutely nothing explain your success to senior management.
But here’s what I really hope readers remember. Learn to recognize the games without becoming someone who plays them at everyone else’s expense. Stand up for yourself without losing your kindness. And never let a job title, a salary, or a performance review determine your worth. Your job is something you do. It is not everything you are. And above all, learn to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Before it gets the chance to laugh at you.
Because one day, someone will replace your name on the office door. But nobody gets to replace the life you spent trying to impress the people behind it. The meeting is never just the meeting. But your life should never be just the job. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been invited to a mandatory meeting about improving work-life balance.
It’s at 7:30 PM.