Doc Marten's were the iconic footwear of my adolescence, both a subcultural marker and a dare to Toronto's skinheads, whose sport was beating up other kids and taking their Docs. There was a whole hanky-code for the laces, a million different meanings for the leather colors. Today, they're just another made-in-China high-street brand, surrounded by hedge fund scum who're squabbling over who gets to steal its soul, but every now and again I pass a window and see a pair of Docs that stop me and make me stare, agog. Deconstructed Docs, Paisley Docs, and now Velvet Docs, and of course, Docs with this summer's ubiquitous spikes.
I write books. My latest is a YA science fiction novel called Homeland (it's the sequel to Little Brother). More books: Rapture of the Nerds (a novel, with Charlie Stross); With a Little Help (short stories); and The Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow (novella and nonfic). I speak all over the place and I tweet and tumble, too.