When It Rains, It Pours

It’s the final day of my detox and, as usual, it featured a number of highs and lows. The lows consisting of a non stop pounding headache, and hiding under the duvets for a half hour in the vain hope that it would subside; the highs being how much lighter I feel (and weigh – which is 10 pounds lighter, incidentally) and that I finally, FINALLY, feel cleared of all the excess I was carrying around from the Christmas period.

Seven days is the shortest cleanse I’ve ever committed to, with my usual countdown consisting of ten. The longest I have ever attempted, and will never attempt again incidentally, is fourteen.

The fourteen was way too long, and I have fond memories of counting down the seconds of the last day, much in the way that I am now. I can’t lie, for all the good the cleanse does for me (coupled with my BJJ) I can’t wait for that first meal tomorrow. Time today seems to be slowing down purposefully in order to stretch the goal posts that bit further away, but it’s only a matter of time, and I’m dedicated to the cause. Plus I’m one stubborn S.O.B.

I’ve used the time during my juicing cleanse to look into what steps I can now take with my finished manuscript, Temporary. How, pray tell, can you take it from a shit load of words on a screen, to being pound, published, and available in all good book stores near you? The ‘what next’ of the situation has always been one that has confounded me. From my short film, First Date, to my first feature length script, Gamers, it’s always the next step. What next?

Well, I’m determined to make something happen with Temporary. I believe in Temporary, and I believe that there is a message within it that will resonate with an audience once it has the ability to do so. So…what next?

Continue reading

The Doctor, and The City of Brotherly Love

Yesterday wasn’t easy. I knew going out that it wouldn’t be easy, and I was right. Between waking up in South East London, and laying my head down to sleep in Indianapolis, we were travelling for a constant 16 and a half hours; this monumental trip included surly boarding pass checkers in Heathrow, a baby who enjoyed nothing more than beating the shit out of Nick, a free Shuttle service we chose to forego and a delayed flight between Philadelphia and Indianapolis that saw us waiting, due to technical issues with the electrics, followed by a changing of crew members that led to a total of 2 hours with us grounded before we finally got air bound. All of this pales in comparison however to the wonderfully twisted run in I had with one specific passport controller, and ten year psychiatric veteran, in Philadelphia: Dr Estrada.

Continue reading