Chris Deary digital editor and strategist

Chris Deary

I'm a senior editor at Zone, a creative digital agency based in London, Bristol and Cologne. I specialise in creating content, campaigns and strategies for our charity and non-profit clients, including the Nike Foundation, The BT Supporters' Club, Prostate Cancer UK, Action on Hearing Loss and the London School of Economics. I've also worked on projects for Channel 4 and the Co-Op Bank.

I've worked in media and marketing for over 10 years. As a journalist I wrote for The Guardian, Huffington Post, Manchester Evening News and a number of sports and lifestyle magazines before moving into digital at News UK, where I managed online communities for The Sun, News of the World and London Paper.

A stint at Hearst Magazines launching social media projects for Cosmopolitan was followed by three years at the climate change charity Global Cool, where I headed up content production for digital partnerships with Vodafone, Eurostar and various music festivals.

I live and work in Bristol.


I'm currently working on my first novel, which explores adolescent friendship, unfulfilled promise and the uncomfortable - yet never-ending - march of modernity in the Roman Catholic enclaves of northern England. After exploring these issues, it then spews them out in a boisterous cocktail of 90s nostalgia, post-Millennial digital angst and some good old-fashioned Catholic guilt...

Pete is 33 years old. He lives with his reclusive mum who insists on ironing shirts for him, even though his job doesn't require him to wear them. She says Jesus wouldn't like creases in his shirt.

Brett works in Burger King because his bleached mohican and profuse sweating make him unemployable anywhere else. He stalks old school friends on Facebook and uses Wikipedia to compensate his poverty of life experience. He never understood why Pete's shirts were always so smooth.

Susan's determined to make it all better: to make Pete escape the twentieth century; to make Brett remove his tracksuit top bloodstained by an IRA bomb... to stop their friendship being (nearly) dead.