Featured Author: Chris Wimpress

Speculative Fiction

Some stories begin with careful planning. Others start with a moment of friction — a flash of discomfort that refuses to be ignored.

For Chris Wimpress, that spark came unexpectedly, while watching a tense interaction at an airport. A single act of rudeness became the seed for a much larger question: what happens when generational resentment, technological upheaval, and social fracture are allowed to ferment unchecked?

Born in Northampton, England in 1977, Chris read English at Edinburgh University before building a career as a journalist with BBC News. His work included stints on the Today programme — the UK’s most influential daily news broadcast — and within the BBC’s political department at Westminster. Years spent observing power, policy, and public mood from the inside sharpened his instinct for tension, consequence, and narrative momentum.

That perspective feeds directly into his debut novel, Advent of Libra, a bold work of speculative fiction set in a fractured near-future England. In a society ravaged by AI-driven unemployment and economic collapse, the youngest generation has risen up in a movement known as Libra. As rebellion spreads, care homes burn, virtual reality becomes refuge, and the country edges toward civil war.

At the heart of the chaos are three women — Lara, Kelly, and Stella — bound by family ties and long-buried secrets. As the Libra movement accelerates, each is forced into impossible decisions that could either save what remains of their family or push the nation closer to collapse.

Excerpt

Lara slips into the abandoned Greenwich churchyard as dusk falls, keeping to the deeper shadows underneath the trees. She’s travelled through the darkening streets alone, to avoid the endless police and Army patrols. Groups of young people are always being stopped and searched, especially this close to the evening curfew.
She’d clung to the sides of buildings; guessing those blindspots the security drones hovering above her wouldn’t be able to scan. A side street, an underpass, even through the hollowed-out shell of a derelict building; there’s usually some way to move around undetected, without resorting to the hellishness of the abandoned Tube tunnels. Sometimes she’d taken shelter in an empty building when a government helicopter swooped in low, its searchlight panning around the empty roads.
Now she’s reached the first waypoint of her mission she finds herself shivering, even though it’s a muggy evening. She hears the rustle of feet on decaying leaves, the snap of a twig, the sudden intake of breath. She’s not alone, here. Those she’s been teamed up with are lurking in other bushes, none of them wanting to be the first to reveal themselves. Despite all the precautions, it’s hard not to worry they’re about fall into some kind of government trap.
After a few minutes of shuffling around in the undergrowth Lara steps forward, so the others can see her face in the flickering glow of a streetlamp. Recognising her wide eyes, tight mouth and long auburn hair, each of them slowly moves into view. They form a semi-circle around a small family headstone, bearing the remnants of names that have become blurred and unreadable by decades of rain.
The other three have thin, drawn faces. It’s become fashionable within Libra to actively work towards that look; followers often come close to starving themselves, their young, plump cheeks wasted away, leaving them looking older than their years. These Librans aren’t from London; they’ve been drafted in from other places in England. They’re here for the final push, the moment that’ll bring an end to the violence and upheaval.
Only Lara still has a suppleness to her cheeks, marking her out as coming from the capital. She silently reminds herself that she’s been a sleeper agent; that adopting the Libran look would have been counter-productive. Still she feels somewhat guilty, knowing she’s travelled here on a full stomach.
None of these young men and women have ever met before, at least not in real life. They glance at each other, perhaps trying to gauge whether any of them are scared. Lara definitely feels more than a little troubled by what they’re about to do; it will cross a line, mark a new frontier in Libra’s campaign. It’s audacious, hitting somewhere inside the capital, and with audacity comes risk.

Chris’s writing is cinematic and urgent, yet grounded in emotional realism. His scenes move through abandoned streets, shadowed meeting points, and moments of quiet fear, capturing what it feels like to live inside a society where trust has eroded and every choice carries weight. Beneath the action lies a deeper exploration of loyalty, moral compromise, and the cost of revolution, both personal and collective.

Advent of Libra is a story about generational conflict, but also about responsibility, inheritance, and the fragile line between resistance and destruction. It asks what happens when systems fail, narratives harden, and people are forced to decide who — and what — they are willing to become.

Chris Wimpress writes speculative fiction that feels uncomfortably close to home, reminding us that the future is rarely born from nowhere. More often, it grows out of moments we choose not to examine — until it’s too late.

Find out more:

Website: www.chriswimpress.uk

Amazon US link: https://www.amazon.com/Advent-Libra-dystopian-between-generations-ebook/dp/B0DRSX56BM/ref=cm_cr_srp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8

Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Advent-Libra-dystopian-between-generations-ebook/dp/B0DRSX56BM