The Show

A fiction book by Filip Syta
Silicon Valley - The new Wall Street: sex, drugs and tech.
Properties
Audiobook
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Penguin Random House
Movie & TV
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BlackPills
Movie & TV
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BlackPills
Foreign Lang. (HU)
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Park Literary and Media
World English
Under Inquiry
Podcast
Foreign Lang.
Book Comps
Movie Comps
Accolades
The Financial Times
Conveys the peculiarity of a workplace full of young, bright people fixated on the future.
Sunday Business Post
A blistering work of fiction.
Press
A former google employee wrote a novel about sex and drugs at a fictional search ad company  so we asked him how much was true
Business Insider
February 04, 2016
A former Google employee wrote a novel about sex and drugs at a fictional search ad company — so we asked him how much was true.
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Knowledge For Men
January 05, 2016
Ex-Googler Filip Syta left the tech world to write books and his debut literary novel tells you why — in a satirical, true and unsavory tale, revealing the savagery beneath the shiny veneer of Silicon Valley.
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The Tracking Board
February 19, 2016
After upstart indie publisher Inkshares found itself in the middle of a bidding war this past week on their debut author Mike Mongo’s title ASTRONAUT INSTRUCTION MANUAL with no less than 3 A-list producers at the center, we have now confirmed there is an offer on a second debut author’s title, THE SHOW by Filip Syta. The book, which was just featured in this Financial Times article and sold out on its initial run, details the Wolf of Wall Street style antics inside what is essentially his previous employer Google’s hallowed halls.
Filip syta the show buch ueber google
Die Welt
February 05, 2016
Filip Syta kündigte bei Google und schrieb einen Roman über eine Tech-Firma, bei der Koks, Sex und gefälschte Zahlen zum Alltag gehören. Syta sagt, 90 Prozent entsprächen der Realität bei Google.
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Breakit
March 10, 2016
Sex, droger och tech - svenske Filip Syta sa upp sig från Google för att skriva en bok om den fiktiva sökmotorjätten The Show.
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Elite Daily
January 12, 2016
Google does everything your mother doesn’t do for you anymore. Why shouldn’t it?
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Sunday Business Post
April 04, 2016
Ex-Google man Syta cleans up with big publishing and TV deal
Hello
WIRED
October 28, 2016
Der Schwede Filip Syta ist kein Ingenieur oder Programmierer. Stattdessen arbeitete er als Anzeigen- und Werbestratege bei Google in Dublin. Nach zwei Jahren ging er. Aber nicht, um sein eigenes Unternehmen zu gründen, sondern ein Buch über eines zu schreiben: The Show. Darin heuert die gleichnamige Firma den jungen Werbefachmann Victor an. Was der daraufhin erlebt, entspreche zu „90 Prozent“ der Realität, versichert Syta.
Read part of The Show
Welcome to heaven
a 4 minute read

I could feel the blood pressure in my veins; it dropped a notch after the dinging sound. The fasten seat belt sign went off, and the plane was now cruising at thirty-five thousand feet toward my new life.

I could barely wait to get there and meet the people already on the inside, the ones who’d made it. I was on my way to a new life in the rapidly growing tech industry, which was shaping the world after its own agenda. By working at the most powerful tech company in the world, SHOW, I would help shape that agenda.

It meant I now belonged to the best of the best. I would rub shoulders with the elite and be part of changing the world for the better. I was a dreamer. Although SHOW’s main business was online advertising, they were aiming for the stars, and so was I.

“Hi there, sir. Coffee or tea?” asked the flight attendant.

She smiled like it was her birthday, but her eyes looked stressed and angry. Her hair was messy, and I had never seen a woman blink as fast as she did. Maybe the clumps of mascara on the lashes of her left eye bothered her.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” I answered, giving her an even bigger smile.

“Sorry, sir, we’re out of ice.”

“Already? Must have been some thirsty folks in the front rows.”

“Broken ice machine,” she replied quickly.

“Then I’ll have the whiskey without the rocks, please.”

The lady in the leather seat on my left followed the glass with her eyes as the flight attendant leaned over her to hand me the drink. The flight attendant was no longer trying to smile. Her painted red lips made her seem like a sad clown that nobody was laughing at.

I took a sip of my straight Jack and gazed out the small round window at the clouds. They looked like soft cotton candy. Whenever I fly, I imagine how it would feel to walk out on the wingtip, step down, and stroll around on that cloudy cotton candy field with a drink in my hand while looking down at the world to see what humanity is doing. This time, I felt closer to the clouds than ever. I felt like a rock star, like someone more than special. I felt like God herself.

I decided to celebrate that feeling with another whiskey and pressed the “Service” button. The lady next to me glanced at me nervously. A few minutes later, the flight attendant was pouring more Jack into my glass. I examined her closely, wondering why she was doing this job. For some reason, her eyes made me think of a sleepy koala bear that had overdosed on eucalyptus and was as high as the Empire State Building. She clearly didn’t enjoy her work, so why did she do it? Why not have a career you love? Like the one I was headed toward. Maybe she had no choice. Maybe she had a kid to support and her husband had left her for another woman—or man. What a sad and miserable woman, wasting her life up in the sky serving Jack. At least the view was good.

My blood pressure skyrocketed, and I knew it was time. The fasten seat belt sign went on, and the plane started its descent toward the city of innovation, the city from which...

Magic
a 3 minute read

It was a Saturday morning in mid-March, and I was on a bench in Golden Gate Park absorbing the sun and people watching. I’d always found it relaxing to observe life and movement around me. Sometimes I even wrote about what I’d seen.

Cigarette...

Whiskey
a 2 minute read

When I woke up at my hotel the next morning, I could hear the rain smashing against the window like a group of angry wood- peckers pecking at a tree. My eyes were still closed, and I imagined the massive storm going on outside. My head felt like a...