Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Meet the Cast

I'm very excited to make some casting announcements for One Day in December today. I saw hundreds of submissions and it really was encouraging to see so much talent back in Ireland... makes me sorry I left! The crappy part was I had to say no to a lot of that amazing talent! There were only so many roles available and really wanted to find the people who were just right for the characters, so it took a little longer than expected. There are still two parts available, those of Dan (25) and Kieran (32). In the meantime however, here are most of the awesome cast of One Day in December:

Grace Kelley Fitzgerald as Lucy
Graeme Anthony Coughlan as Will
Clare Monnelly as Fi
John Morton as John
Diane Jennings as Wendy
Ross Mac Mahon as Keiran
Meg Healy as Lorraine
Tadhg Murphy as Tadhg
Patrick O'Donnell as The Chipper
Lorna Larkin as The Chipper's Wife
Gerry Wade as The Barman

I'm very excited to have all these guys on board. They were all exceptionally strong and I felt really fit the characters. A couple of people I've worked with before, a couple I've wanted to work with for a while and a few surprises too.

Again, you can see that there are two characters still available. I am still considering a couple of submissions, so hopefully I can fill those soon. And before the end of the month I will start fundraising for the project, to I can pay these lovely people and rent some useful things, like cameras, might come in handy.

Getting exciting!!!

Thursday, September 03, 2015

How We Failed a Child. How We Are Losing Humanity.

I felt compelled to write something about this tragic event. For me, this is the tipping point, and I hope it's the tipping point for many, for the world. We've all grown up with war, we see it on the news, in some far away country, somebody elses problem and we get on with our lives, as we have to, we have jobs to go to, rent and bills must be paid, Facebook must be updated and those reality TV shows don't watch themselves. But sometimes we have to stop, and look. As much as we don't want to, we have to look.

This image stopped me in my tracks yesterday morning and shock me to the core. I was having an OK morning, sitting at my desk to start my day, drinking coffee and scrolling through Facebook before I got stuck in. Down the news feed, silly cat videos, memes of one kind or another, people having a rant, lots of pictures of first day at school and then this. A small boy in a red shirt, navy shorts and little brown velcro strap shoes. Lying so peacefully and still, like little toddlers do when they sleep. But he wasn't on any soft bed. He was face down in the sand, the surf washing over his face, unmoving, lifeless, drowned.

I've seen dead bodies before. I've seen images of terrible things and indeed dead children before. While they have caused me sadness, none have shock me like this one. And I think it's because he looks like me own little boy. I have a two and half year old. A little chap so full of life, and fun , and smiles, and laughter and with so much in front of him. Everyday when I come home from work he is so excited to see me, he runs to me shouting "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" and throws his little arms around me. I pick him up and hug him and kiss him. I'm sure it was the same for this little boy and his Daddy.

Aylan's Father leaving the hospital after identifying his sons body
And like his Daddy, I want nothing but the best for my son, both my kids, which is why I left Ireland and came to America. I had that choice. I was able to choose to leave one Free country and enter another Free country to live a Free life. These countries are not without their problems of course, and life can be difficult, but there are two key words - Freedom and Life. I can live here, I can thrive here, I can go about my business and earn a living and have fun and provide a decent life for my boy, unhindered. I don't have war at my door, forcing me to get into a small boat in desperation to flee, unknowing what is waiting for me.

I can't help but admire the composure and respect this officer shows.
And it seems, there is nothing waiting. Europe has close it's gates to these people. And we are standing and watching them die because they don't have a passport, or a document saying they have the right to enter, a fucking piece of paper with a rubber stamp on it. This little boy died, drowned, cold, wet, terrified in the dark screaming for his Daddy while his lungs filled with water, because of a piece of paper.

I would ask the question, but I already know the answer, the answer is Never, the question? When will governments see us as human beings, as equal, as one? If you saw someone being attacked outside you house, and you knew being opening to the door and letting them in you could save their life, would you? Our governments are chosing not to. They are choosing to keep the door closed, and instead watch as many they could have saved, die. And not only that, but they are treating them like less than human, hearding them, fencing them, beating them, treating them like the criminals. Because they are trying to flee war torn countries, because they are trying to save themselves and their children, and the people they are running to are saying "No, we don't want to save you, we don't want you here." And leaving them with only one choice, to die.

The world is at war, and you are either on one side or the other - You're doing the killing, or you're doing the saving. Right now Europe, the world, governments, you're doing the killing too. There is no hope.

Aylan with his father and older brother
(who also died) ready for a big adventure.
Look at this little boy, his name is Aylan. The morning of his death his woke up like any other morning. He got dressed, strapped on hi shoes, put on his favorite red t-shirt, the one with the spaceship on it, ran around excited because his Daddy told him "We're going on a boat today" and he thought this was going to be the best day ever! And then he died. Drowning, in agony and terror, just wanting his Daddy to help him and take him home, so he could play. He's father didn't fail him, we did, those of us you live in the free world and look on doing nothing. Shame on all of us.

Goodnight little man, rest well, I'm sorry we failed you.

Addition: My boy, at the beach, how it should be for all kids. Not what's above.

Friday, August 21, 2015

FLOAT: The Final Chapter

Now we come to the end of our story, where everything is finally revealed, well, not quiet everything, because this story may go on. If you've been reading along, first, Thank you, and secondly, I hope you enjoyed it. This was a book I wrote as part of a challenge. Where I was given one month to write a novel, this was back before full-time jobs and children and responsibility and all that good stuff, so I managed to write it in just 3 weeks.

So the story as I've been publishing it over the last few months has remain untouched since then, I think it was 2009? Could be wrong there. It's rough, it needs a lot of work and several more drafts to make it really work, but that wasn't getting done with everything else I have going on, so I thought I would share it. Get it out. It's a story I've always wanted to tell, and maybe I struggled a little bit to tell it in this go round. But maybe if I find the time later to come back to it. I think I've mentioned before that I'd like to make a film version. We'll see, maybe some day.

In the mean time, enjoy the final part of David's adventure:

CHAPTER 14: Primum non Nocere

Grey daylight leaks in through the curtains as I wake. It’s dull. Cold. I’m in bed. Doc Kotek is asleep. Slumped on a chair. Roman isn’t here. I try to move. The pain in my leg bites me. I shout. Doc wakes with a start. 
I slowly push myself up to a seated position. 
“Take it easy.”
He gets me a glass of water and hands it to me. I drink it down. 
“What time is it?”
“It’s after five.”
“Shit. Where’s Roman?” 
“He left again, once we got you sewn up.  It was a bad cut. You lost a lot of blood. If things weren’t the way they are I would have insisted you go to hospital. I’m still not sure you shouldn’t go.”
“Well, things are the way they are. Where’d he go?”
“He thinks he knows where Debbie is.”
I move to get up. But the pain pushes me back. I pull the cover off. There is a large white bandage around my leg with spots of blood on it. 
“There’s fifteen stitches in that. Best not to move.”
I catch my breath. Doc hands me some painkillers. I swallow them. Close my eyes and wait for the pain to ease. It does. Not by much. But enough.
“How does he know where she is?”
“He drove her to the hospital last night for her shift. Didn’t come back until he arrived with you. He said you were supposed to be there?”
“I know.”
“He said they took Debbie before he realised, but he saw them leave and followed. Then he saw them take you. He tried to distract them, to give you a chance to do something. I guess it worked, whatever it was.”
“That was him out the back…. How’d he get in there?  What about Debbie?”
“He was following the car that took her when you called. He had to turn back. He said he had an idea where they took her. He was going back to search.”
“The old fool. He should have waited for me.”
“You can’t go anywhere. Not with the amount of blood you’ve lost.”
“Well I’m not sitting around here doing nothing.”
I push myself out of bed. The pain is intense.
“Where’s my suit?”
I see it. Covered in blood. The pants and thermals are torn. They must have cut them to get to my leg. Can’t blame them for that. Idiot! I try to get away from them flaying my skin and I do it to myself. I turn to Doc.
“I have to go after her. It’s my fault they took her. All of this is my fault.”
“At least wait until dark.”
I agree. But every minute that passes I feel panic and anxiety swell inside me. 
The thought of Debbie tied up in that boot claws at my insides. 
“You should try and eat something too.”
“I can’t eat.”
“You’ll need energy. And, I was going through your results again. Looking at the blood work, it seems you’re a high risk for diabetes. Has that ever been mentioned to you before?”
“Has anyone in you family ever suffered from it?”
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
“It matches everything that’s changing in you body - hence the binging, the altered sleep pattern. Cutting yourself like this is not a good thing for a healthy person, but one with diabetes. You’re lucky you’re not dead. The only thing I can contribute it to is what ever this thing is, whatever is making you fly, on one had it’s throwing your body into chaos, making you sick, at least, on paper, but then it’s making you stronger too, pulling you back together, healing you, feeding you. It’s like a protective layer around you. I can’t get to grips with it.”
“Nor me Doc.”
“Look, just sit, I’ll cook you some pasta.”
Doc sets to making food. I take a look at my results. His notes. They make no sense to me. Nothing of it does. I wish Mr. Suit had been a little more forthcoming with the information. And I can’t say I even believe in anything he said. Another world? Slit in reality? Gateways for souls? It was all too much to take in.
Doc hands me a bowl of steaming hot pasta. 
“No sauce?”
“Just worry about the Carbs.”
I dig in. It’s flavourless. With a chewy texture. He ain’t getting passed the skills test in Masterchef. But it works. I feel more awake for eating it. The more I eat the better I feel. 
“Has he got any soup?”
Doc goes through the presses. 
“Stick it on Doc. This seems to be doing the trick.”
He empties a can into the same saucepan and heats it. By the time I’m done with the pasta, it’s ready. I drink it down. Suddenly I’m ravenous. I get to my feet. I hope to the fridge and open it. It’s empty. I go through the presses. Nothing. 
“Doc, I need something.”
He thinks for a moment. Then runs outside. I pace while I wait. A couple of minutes later he returns laden with food. Eggs. Milk. Bread. Butter. Sugar. And a newspaper.
“Doc, you beautiful bastard.”
“I told him I was a friend of Roman’s, we were staying the week and she loaded me up. Even got the newspaper!”

Monday, August 17, 2015

The Trick that Time Played

OK, quick catch up blog post, it just gone midnight, so expect typos... I'll fix it tomorrow if I find the time. Time, there's a funny word. Time is playing tricks on me lately. In particular a very good disappearing trick. Each time I think I have some, poof! It's gone!

Right now work is hectic. We're in full production and I'm pulling in 12 to 14 hour days. On top of that I decided to try to produce 2 films. I Am Ireland and One Day in December. Both of which require a great deal of time. It's also school time, and both my kids are starting school tomorrow (for the first time) My daughter in Kindergarten, and son in Day Care. It's a big day all round.

So life is in over-drive right now, it's mad, I'm not really sure how I'm going to get it all done, except that I know I have to. Don't have a choice. And hopefully it will all have been worth it in the end.

One Day is going really well. I've been flooded with Reels and auditions I'm delighted to say. Try to get through them all, well over 100, and starting to get back to people. Note: If you sent your stuff in and I haven't got back to you yet, have patience, I will (read above for reasons on delay!). I Am Ireland... less so.

On the left are two posts I put on Film Network Ireland, you can see the reaction to One Day, and then the reaction to I Am Ireland. I don't know if people just don't like the idea, or what it is. I don't think that the case, in fact, dozens of people have told me what a great idea they think it is and that they'd love to be involved. It just has translated to actual involvement unfortunately.

The deadline is in 2 weeks and I haven't had any submissions. So I'm going to extend the deadline until the end of September. I think I have so much going on I can't really give it the push it needs. So I'll give myself and anyone who's interested a bit more time. Hopefully it helps. I think if it doesn't it might be time to put it to rest for good this time. This is my third attempt in the last 3 or 4 years to get this idea off the ground, and it's never quite caught fire. It almost did this time. But not sure what happened.

In the meantime I have a lot of trucking to do. One Day is steaming ahead and I'm putting as much energy I have after a 14 hour day into that. I'm very much looking forward to shooting it.

Once the cast is assembled I will begin raising the money I need to shoot it. That should be at the end of September. I will run that through October and hope to be back in Ireland shooting at the end of December this year, if everything goes according to plan... which of course it always does ;)

OK, so that's me, I'm zonked, time for bed. I'll fix typos tomorrow. Gotta sleep, get up, take the kids to school, work a day, an evening and a night and then come home and look at showreels tills midnight!!! Living the dream baby, living the dream!!!

Sure I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

FLOAT: Chapter 13 - From the Rooftop into the Fire

Welcome to the penultimate chapter of FLOAT. Debbie has been kidnapped. In an attempt to get her back David is also captured and finally meets his pursuers and gets closer to the answer he's been looking for, though his discoveries lead him and his friends into greater peril. Read on my friends. I hope you have enjoy this story. An exciting chapter ahead and one more to come...

CHAPTER 13: From the Rooftop into the Fire

High above the ground. 
Higher than I’ve been. 
I float. 
Watching the traffic below. 
A living map beneath my feet. 
I followed them from Doc Kotek’s house. Back to my building. Well, it’s not my building anymore. They connected with another car. And from there drove to café in town. A greasy spoon near the train station. I’ve been sitting on the roof of the building opposite for an hour. Hopped across once or twice to check the back. There’s just a tiny courtyard. No access. 
All I can do is wait to see where they go next.
Then, a car pulls up.
The passenger steps out. A man in his late forties. Grey hair. Blue pin striped suit. It’s the same guy from the building. He stops at the door to the restaurant. Turns and walks to the boot of the car. He opens it. 
Debbie is tied and gagged inside.
He looks up and directly at me. Then closes the boot. I stand. Panicked. My mind on fire. My blood rushing. I feel angry. Furious. How did they find her? How did they know about the trailer… 
I turn to look.
The town clock tower chimes 12. 
I said 11. 
I forgot.
I look down. I feel something in my back.
“You jump, she dies.  Let’s go.”

Thursday, August 06, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 12: Wake Up

With only 2 chapters to go things are all starting to come to a head. David is desperate for answers. Chapter 12: Wake Up David begins to understand the danger behind the gift he has inherited and lives are put at risk, and new truths reveal.


I wake.
I’m in the car.
Roman is driving. Debbie is asleep in the back. It’s night. We are driving on dark roads.
“You were dreaming.”
I straighten in the seat. 
“Dreaming? It didn’t feel like a dream.”
“What was it about?”
I’m not sure I want to relive it just yet.
I don’t think Roman believes me. But he doesn’t push it. 
“We there yet? Wherever there is?”
“Close. Another few mile.”
“Any sign of anyone?”
“Not a dicky bird.”
I sit back. Watch the beams of the lights illuminate a fraction of the black road ahead. It seems to create our path as we go. Making it up as we go along. Like us. I don’t feel like talking. I don’t think Roman does either. We remain in silence for the next fifteen minutes.
Then, the sea appears on the horizon. 
“We’re here.”
The site of it glistening under the moon breathes new life into me. I feel it relaxing me. And as we get closer and I hear the waves lapping gently on the shore. I find myself smiling.
“I haven’t been out here since I was a kid.”
“Really? I come out most days. I have a trailer here.”
Roman turns the car into a trailer park and eventually stops next to his own. 
“Home sweet home.”
“You live here?”
“Sometimes, my wife and I bought many years ago. We would spend all summer out here. The kids loved it. It’s not very practical at the moment, but we can at least sleep here until we find out what’s going on.”
“It’s perfect.”
We look at Debbie. Still sleeping.
“You go ahead in, I’ll get her up.”
“OK, I’ll get the heating on.”
“Stick the kettle on too would you? I could use a cuppa!”
Roman nods and goes inside.

Saturday, August 01, 2015

CASTING CALL for "One Day In December"

CASTING CALL: One Day In December - Short Film.

One Day in December is a short film about two people from different worlds who fall in love one Christmas Eve. A romantic tale of love, laughter and friendship, set to the backdrop of Christmas in Ireland - pubs, parties, drinks, live music, family, friends, cold winter days and warm winter nights.

This film is a proof of concept for a feature film entitled 10 Days in December, which I hope to shoot December 2016. But it will stand alone as its own film. Though remaining open ended, my hope is to leave the audience satisfied, but wanting more.

The film will shoot in Drogheda, Co. Louth, Ireland in December of this year (Possibly early January of 2016 - Dates tbc). The shoot will be one week long. Leading cast are required for entire week, days and nights. Supporting cast for two to three days and nights during the week of production.


Will (29)
Lucy (24 - American)

John (28)
Dan (28)
Tadhg (22)
Kieran (32)

Wendy (28)
Fi (27)
Lorraine (24)

Bartender (30/40)
Chip-Shop Owner (50s)

Please contact me with your reel, headshot and resume if you are interested in auditioning. You can hit the contact button on the right of this page. Or message me at

If you do not have a reel, please send me a taped monologue (filmed on your phone is fine - send a secure link via youtube). It is important that I see some footage of you, as I am in California I cannot audition in person. First round will be asked to submit a taped reading from the script. Second round will meet on Skype. Last round will be cast.

Parts are paid, accommodation and some expenses will be provided, where needed. This is a low budget independent production being funded by the filmmaker, Me! So it will be a small production, but I've done this a few times before, so we should be alright!

Once post production is completed the film will be used to help gather interest and raise funding for the feature film, but it will also be rolled out to film festivals around the world. I will also seek a sales agent to represent the film and look to sell it to broadcast.

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and for your interest. I look forward to seeing your reels!!!


Friday, July 31, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 10: Being Better & Chapter 11: Confession.

Welcome dear reader... I say "reader" because I'm pretty sure there may only one person is reading this, and it's probably me checking for typos!!! Oh well. Here it is anyway, chapter 10 of Float, we're getting close to the end, only 3 chapters to go after this.

David loses it. But why? Keep reading and find out in Chapter 11, posted below. Dangerous people are being to close in around David, he needs help, but he face drawing those who would help deeper into danger with him.

CHAPTER 10: Being Better

Next morning. First day in a long time I’ve woken up at a normal hour. It’s 10am and I’m sipping coffee on the roof of the building. Leaning over the wall. Looking at the city. It’s cold. But sunny. The sky is clear and blue. In between the bitter bites of wind it’s even warm.
I feel better today. My head is clear. But I ache. My neck is sore. My ribs too. I tongue my lose tooth occasionally. It’s sore, annoying more than anything.
I think about the items on the shopping list I gave to Roman. Hopefully he can find what I’m looking for. I look forward to getting them. The thought of heading out tonight fills me with equal parts excitement and dread. 
I find I miss flying. Like the first day back at school after Christmas. Coming home and seeing all those new toys again is like Christmas all over again. I want to unwrap my gift again.
I’m calling it a gift. Roman is having an effect.
I decide to oil the cogs. I haven’t been off the ground for two nights. I back away from the wall and look around. I’m on top of the highest building. So no chance of being seen. I put my cup down and move into the centre of the roof. I feel the butterflies in my stomach. The excitement is still there. 
I bend my knees slightly, ready to jump and catch myself before I land. I just want to float. Just six inches off the rooftop. Just to feel it.
I jump.
I land.
Not high enough.
I jump again. Higher this time. Ready to catch and hold.
I land. Almost falling over.
It’s not working.
I shake it off. I’m just out of practice.
I decide to take a run at it. I walk to the wall. Shake it out. Run out into the centre of the roof and jump. There’s a moment as I being to descend out of the jump that I catch myself. Then it’s like I hit a slide and feel a smooth transition into weightlessness, and I’m up.  It doesn’t happen. Instead I go down. But expecting to take off I am unprepared to land properly and I crumple. 
I hit the roof with force and groan as the pain from my beating springs to life. I lie there, starring up at the clear blue sky. As if laughing at me the sky sends two seagulls flying over me. I don’t find it funny.
I get to my feet. I look around. At the ground where I fell. I stand still. Aware of how my body feels. How it hurts. I listen, inwardly. Hoping to recognise something. Hoping to feel something. Something I can pin point, say That’s it, and change it so I can fly again. But I don’t feel anything. Just sore.
I take my cup and go back inside. I feel like I arrived at a party only to find the venue empty. Realising I was lied to so I wouldn’t arrive at the real party. 

I feel bereft. Confused. Worried. I feel like I’ve broken a promise to a dear friend. Like I’ve broken someone’s heart. But the promise was to me and heart was mine. I feel as if I have failed myself more than any other time in my life.
I’m walking. Through the building. There is a numbness in my head. There are no thoughts. No reasoning. I’m not asking questions or trying to figure out why this has happened. I couldn’t make sense of it when it came. How can I make sense of it now that it’s gone.
Has it gone?
I take a run down a corridor. Jump. And fall. 
The answer comes in the sting of carpet burn.
It is gone.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 9: Tunnel Vision

Welcome to Chapter 9 of FLOAT: Tunnel Vision. Thank you for reading along, if indeed you are! I hope you're enjoying it. Things are starting to pick up, and the presence of danger becomes ore apparent in this chapter. David seeks revenge after what happened to Cracker, but ends up in hospital, where he meets Debbie, a nurse who grows concerned for him.

CHAPTER 9:  Tunnel Vision

I’m not sure anyone saw me come in. I’m too tired to care. It was miles back to the building. I know I passed people along the way. Got some strange looks. But I didn’t care. All I saw was that look on Cracker’s face. Bright and vivid wherever I looked.
Was it my fault? I kept asking myself. Over and over. What did Grey do? He must have done something. He must have put the fear of God into him. Threatened him. Because I threatened Grey. I curse myself with every step. As if every step is one more than I deserve. Why can’t I get anything right? Even with this, this fucking thing, I can’t do it right. I’m making the same mistake I’ve always made of things. Because I’m so selfish. I don’t think ahead. I don’t think beyond myself. And now someone is dead.
Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled up. Maybe I should have kept going. Joined Cracker.

I make a racket as I enter the building. Not caring much who hear me or if I’m seen. I forget about Roman. Until I see him emerge from the security office looking sleepy and concerned. 
“David, what’s wrong?”
I push the button on the elevator. I don’t look at him. The doors don’t open. I push it and push it and push it.
“Why wont these open?”
“What’s the matter?”
“The fucking lift is broke, why wont the door’s open?”
“Give them a moment, tell me, did something happen?”
Roman puts his hand on my shoulder. I spin around and slap it away. He flinches and backs away.
“I killed someone tonight. That’s what happened.”
“What do you mean killed someone?”
“Someone is dead because of me.”
A silence follows. I hear my own breathing. It is laboured. Rasping. Roman’s look of shock turns to one of concern. He steps forward like he’s approaching a frightened dog that might bite. I fall back against the wall and slide to the ground. I start to cry. I haven’t cried since I was a child.
Roman kneels down beside and places his hand on my shoulder in a firm reassuring grip.
“It’s alright…”
“It’s not fucking alright!”
The elevator doors open.
“Come on, let’s get you up stairs.”
Roman stands. He puts his hand under my arms and begins to lift me to my feet. I stand. We step inside the lift. The doors close.

Friday, July 17, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 8: Beneath the Clouds

Here is Chapter 8 of FLOAT: Beneath the Clouds. David is confronted by the security guard of the building he's hiding out in, who has been watching him leave each night... from the rooftop. He also finds Cracker again, this time on top of a bridge, planning his own flight.

CHAPTER 8: Beneath The Clouds.

“Turn that light off.”
He does.
“What do you want? Money? Because I have none.”
“No, of course not.”
“What then?”
He steps forward.
“Stay where you are.”
He stops.
“You a security guard?”
“Why haven’t I seen you before now?”
“The company move me between buildings. Show a presence. Saves money. They don’t have to have people in every building.”
“You’re stalling. You’ve called the police. You’re just holding me here.”
“No. I swear. I just… it’s just that…”
“Spit it out!” I shout. I see him jump. I feel bad. He looks like a nice man. One who doesn’t like confrontation. He’s in the wrong job.
“What you can do, I just think, it must be some kind of miracle or something, and I want to help you, if I can.”
“A miracle? You a religious nut?”
“No, not like that…”
“If I stay here you’re not going to have your bible studies group up here worshiping me or some shit?”
“No, I’m not like that…”
“I mean everyone likes a bit of worship, don’t get me wrong, but I came here to be on my own. I’m not stealing from this place, I’m not wrecking it.”
“I know. I know. I’m not a nut. I believe in God, yes, and I think maybe he has something to do with this, that’s just what I think, and who am I to try and stop it.”
I’m not sure. He sounds sincere enough. But maybe I believe him and maybe in twenty minutes the cops do come bursting through the door.
“Do you believe? In God, I mean.”
“I don’t know what I believe at the moment.”
“You must see this as a miracle,” he laughs a joyful bright laugh, “I mean you can fly, like a bird!”
“Let’s not get too excited Mister. I’m still not convinced the cops aren’t about the burst through that door.”
“I swear to you, on my life. I want to help you.”
I think I believe him. I relax. I walk slowly toward him. I can see he’s afraid, nervous. After all, I’m still dressed in black and masked. I stop a few feet away from him. He does look like a nice man. I like his face. He looks friendly. Something about him reminds me of Tone and for the first time in a long time I find myself thinking about my old friend.
I pull off my gloves, remove my mask and old out my hand. 
He shakes my hand and smiles a warm smile.
“Very honoured to meet you David.”
“I’ve never met a man you could fly before.”
“Well, maybe I can do that, but there’s plenty more I can’t do.” 
We look at each other for an awkward moment.
“So, you going to let me live here?”
“I don’t see why not. So long as we’re both careful. You need a home and I need my job.”
“So I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“I’m happy,” I remember something, “Hey, there is something else I think I’m pretty good at…”
“What’s that?”
“Cooking steak! You hungry?”
“I could always go for steak!”

Saturday, July 11, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 7: Off The Rooftop

Friday night, a little late, but here is Chapter 7 of FLOAT: David continues to make foolish plays, he tries to help Cracker, but may have left things worse for both of them, and now someone else is about to step into his life. Enjoy!!!

CHAPTER 7: Off The Rooftop

The food is thrown down the hallway. As is my outfit. Fucking outfit. My arse. I’m sat on my crash mat for a bed with my back against the wall. 
What a fucking idiot. 
What a fucking tool. 
What was I thinking? What was I thinking?
Like a teenager. Giggling. Laughing. Playing a practical joke. Pulling pigtails in the schoolyard. When here was this grown woman. Who only ever wanted to grow. Stuck with a child who crippled her for half a decade. A woman who had built such a beautiful and successful life in such a shot period of time. To have it pulled out from under her. By the one fool who kept it from her in the first place.
I take the stolen €850 from my pocket. Look at it. A faint scent rises up from it. Her perfume. Still the same. I bought it for her every Christmas. It was her scent. As much hers as her name. I smelled it on other women since. But they were borrowing it. Trying it on. It was hers. No one else’s. I breathe it in. Then throw the money across the room. It separates in the air and rains down to the floor.
What must they be going through tonight? Terrified. Crying. Their safe home violated. The safety of their baby. Stolen. They would never sleep again after this. If they could know it was me. If they could know it was a silly joke. Maybe it would make things easier. She could slap me in the face and be done with it. Maybe the recovery would be quicker. Then Brian Farrell would slap his handcuffs on me. I’m too much of a coward for that.

Sunday, July 05, 2015

I Am Ireland - 5 Easy Steps.

I've put together a list of 5 Easy Steps for what you'll need to do to take part in for I Am Ireland. Also some hints and tips and talking points. I think sometimes I forget that not everyone is as used to talking about themselves on camera as I am!!! I do like to talk about myself ;)  So I figured I'd make it easy.

Now we're in July time for submission is getting close, end of August. I'm hoping to get about 40 people to submit clips. And preferably people from all over the world, rather than on concentrated area. But i'll also take what comes.

So have a read of the new poster. If you have any questions you can follow any of the links at the bottom of the poster and you'll be able to get me. You can also comment here, or hit the Contact button on the right.

And go to the vimeo page,, and watch the video, there are more examples of what to do and hints and tips. Thanks!

And again, here's a clip I did about my experience. I get cut off at the end, but you get the idea! Enjoy!

Saturday, July 04, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 5: The Nest - Chapter 6: The Wind

Decided to put up 2 chapters this week. In chapter 5 David finds a new place to stay, and starts to ensemble his costume. In chapter 6 David decides to play, but quickly gets himself into trouble.

CHAPTER 5: The Nest

I found a woolly hat. Cut some eyes out of it. It’s keeping my face warm. But in this cold my eyes and streaming tears. I need goggles of some kind. And pads. Knee pads. Elbow pads. Padded glove and a crash helmet. I’ve hit two roof tops on the way back into town and so far I’ve take half the skin off my right knee and a the palm of my left hand. I’m going to be covered in bruises tomorrow. There is still practice needed. A lot of practice.
I land on the building opposite the sport shop. It’s 11pm. Street is quiet. Some cars. One or two people. I hop across to the roof of the sport shop. There are offices directly above the shop. Apartments above that. All occupied unfortunately. Or maybe not? Maybe there’s one free? But no. It’s too public here. Too close to the centre of town. And too low. I’ll think about that later. For now I need to get round the back and commit the first real crime of my adult life.
The back of the building is dark. Hard to see where I’m going… I wonder if they sell night vision goggles? Probably not. I land quietly. Check the door firstly. One can hope. Nothing. I ready the hammer. Hold it up and… Wait. The alarm. There’s going to be an alarm. Has to be. This is a main street in the centre of town. The cops are going to be on me in minutes. I need to get in get the bag and go. I hold the hammer up again and… Shit! If I go straight for the bag they’ll know it was me. It’ll be obvious! They’ll have my face from earlier. I had all day to think this through.
Ok, calm down. Think about it. But quickly.
Smash the window. Alarm sounds. Open the door. Check the till. Make it look like I want money. Take stuff from under the counter. Swiss army knives. Stuff that might be expensive. Seem to stumble across the bag. Take it as a last minute thing. Run from the building. Don’t take off straight away. In case someone is watching. Climb some walls. Take off a few gardens down.
Is how it played in my head before I broke the door in. 
And it pretty much went according to plan. Except for the fact that the idiot who served me obviously realised I wasn’t coming back and put everything back on the racks. So I basically had to go shopping again. Lucky thing. In the room to the left as I enter was the CCTV station. I was able to break in and disable it. So no footage. But man the alarm was loud. Cops were on me almost immediately. They gave chase on foot over the back garden wall. I got behind a shed and took off without waiting to see if the coast was clear. Must have been. I landed on a roof near by. They kept running for a few more gardens. I could hear them saying they saw me run this way.
That was too close. Stupid. I don’t feel good about stealing this stuff. I spent the day following a scumbag drug dealer. Am I any better than him? I don’t know. I promise when I get back on my feet I’ll send them the money. 
A place to stay.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 4: My Lucky Hammer

Oops! Meant to post this Friday Night! But it was my Mother's last weekend in the States (flew home today) so I got distracted.

So, here, a little late, is Chapter Four of FLOAT. David's fate starts to present itself when he goes shopping for some clothing for his nightly excursions and he encounters two undesirable characters.



I need a place to stay. I have two nights left in my apartment and I’ve made no effort to find a new place. Find a job. Anything. I can’t. Not now. Not with this. I’m a fucking God. I should show them. They’d soon come begging forgiveness. They’d see my power. What I was capable o…
Ouch! Fuck!
Bite my lip eating toast.
Right. So I’m not a God. Thanks for the reminder. No. I’m still an unemployed bum. Soon to be a homeless unemployed bum. I don’t know what I’m going to…
Wait, I know. I fucking know. I’ll squat. I’ll god damn squat. I’ll find an empty apartment, or flat, or room, of attic, whatever the fuck. Somewhere I can get in an out of via the roof, or a high window. I’ll kip down there. No one will know. I’ll come and go as I please. I’ll steal food at night. I steal whatever the hell I need. I’ll fly out at night. After midnight. Find open windows. Dodgy locks. I’ll bust into the supermarket where I used to work for food. I know every inch of that place. 
Ha. I’ll live like a king. 
Top o’ de world Ma.

So, today. I go house hunting. I go clothes shopping. And tomorrow. My new life begins.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Brown Sauce and Tipsy Cake

One of the many nice things about being an Irish Immigrant is that sometimes your Mammy comes to visit! I haven't done any film work the last two weeks as my Mam is in town from Ireland. It's her first time in America and over a year and a half since we all saw each other in the flesh. She goes back in a couple of days, but it's been a great visit (apart from everyone getting Colds and scuppering a lot of plans!). In her case were the usual array of delights from home, chef brown sauce, lyons tea bags, cadbury's purple snacks and even a tipsy cake! Yum!!!

So I should be back on track soon with my current projects. The first of course being 'I Am Ireland'. I have to follow up with a lot of people who expressed interest in getting involved. I need to spread the word a little more. I'm also planning to cut together a small sample clip to show what the end doc might look like. Composer Dermot O'Mahony is currently working on a piece for the film, which will accompany the proof of concept. It will give people a good example of what they're getting involved in.

Speaking of proof of concept, I recently finished the script for 'One Day in December', the proof of concept for '10 Days in December'. It's going well. I'm happy with it. It's a difficult one though, trying to write something that is a teaser for a feature film, yet a self contained short film that can stand on it's own. I had hoped to shoot that in Ireland in December. It could still be a possibility, but as we start to head toward the September launch at work, it's looking like we're going to be super busy, so I don't know how much prep I can put into a film from this side.

One thought however occurred to me, if I do not shoot in December and push it to the new year, would it worth shooting at all? Maybe it would be best to focus completely on the script for the feature and put all my energy into making that happen. I'll see how it goes though. I'm still working on the script. I want to get that right before making any decisions on shooting. But even if I don't shoot the short, it won't be a waste, writing the short script has really helped me with finding a scripture and pace to the story and characters.

In other news, my Tom & Jerry episode is well under way. I'm not sure when it will be broadcast, but rest assured, you will be the first to know! As you know I've been publishing a chapter of my Novel FLOAT every Friday night (one coming later today). This book is all ready written, so I won't be running out of steam on it. I'm also looking at writing several film ideas I have as novels going forward. I have so many, and I know not all of them are going to get made, but I think they're good stories worth sharing, so I want to get them down and out. Watch this space!

Friday, June 19, 2015

FLOAT - Chapter 3: What I Could Do

Chapter 3 of FLOAT. David loses more time. Now strangers start appearing in his life. Things are becoming dangerous. But his abilities are growing.

CHAPTER 3 - What I Could Do

“You alright?”
I get woken up by my neighbour. I’m still lying on the kitchen floor. Surrounded by the carnage left by my binge. The building manager and another man are in the kitchen too. I can see that the other man does not have much concern for me, he’s looking disapprovingly at the mess.
“Sorry about the mess,” I mumble, “Was just hungry last night…”
“What happened?”
“I was just hungry, you know…”
“No, I mean, we haven’t seen you in a week. I thought you’d be out to help with the roof. I started to smell something rotting in here and I got worried, so I called the landlord.”
The disapproving man finally looks down at me. The building manager chimes in.
“This is Mr. Adams, the owner of this apartment.”
I squint up at him, my eyes still adjusting to the light.
“Nice place. I like you apartment.”
He looks away again, at the building manager.
“I want him out of here, today.” He walks out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.
“Hey, my front door!”
“Actually, it’s his front door. Sorry, but you’re going to have leave.”
“You can’t kick me out without notice, I pay the rent.”
“You haven’t paid the rent in two months, so yes, we can.”
Two months, what is he talking about? My neighbour helps me up. I start to wake up. And like before I feel awake, alert and alive. 
“Look at this mess,” more for the sake of the building manager than me. I honestly don’t care. “Can I get you a cup of tea, might as well have one before I start packing.”
I flick the kettle on before anyone answers and go to the fridge for milk. I’m hit with a pungent odour. So powerful it forces me back and sends my neighbour out of the room.
“Oh my God!” he cries, “What is that?”
I look inside, my arm covering my face. 
The entire content of the fridge is rotting. Then I notice that the fridge is off. I close the door and look at the kettle again. It’s not doing anything. I check the lights. Dead. 
“I’ve been cut off. What the hell!?”