I presume I was born at some point, although for the life of me I can’t remember it.
After that, not much happened for ages.
As a child, I used to tell a lot of stories. Back then we called them ‘lies’. Turns out, as an adult, if you write these ‘lies’ down you get paid for them.
Now I’m a scriptwriter living in Eastbourne who can’t really decide whether script writer is one word or two. Or should have a hyphen.
I’ve had eight or nine feature films produced (depending on how you count them and whether or not you include the one which was abandoned), some TV stuff, some stage stuff and some stuff on odd things like phones and the Internet. The details are scattered on the pages to the right of this one.
Generally my life is pretty fantastic, or at least I enjoy it; but perhaps I have low standards? I’m married to a wonderful woman, have an amazing daughter, live in a moderately nice house and get paid to do something I love. To me that sounds quite nice, you may beg to differ.
Although, you shouldn’t beg – it’s beneath you.
I actually write most of my scripts at a secret location in the Caribbean; but since that sounds ludicrously unlikely, you may choose not to believe that bit of information. I wouldn’t, I mean, come on – it just sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?