I should have been working on my book, but instead I was hanging out with my friends. Then a man I barely knew gave me a computer – and a kick up the backside
I’ve got to admit, my expectations were low the day my old school friend Selwyn Musa told me some film director was looking for students. Selwyn had met the director, Barney Platts-Mills, in Ladbroke Grove, west London. He had asked if Selwyn knew anyone interested in making movies. No, Selwyn replied, but my mate is writing a book. That hadn’t seemed to faze him, and he asked Selwyn to tell me to drop by St Helen’s church, where he was running evening workshops.
There was no doubt whether I should go. In the 90s west London was a media mecca, and although we were poor and mostly on the dole, all kinds of artists and celebs walked our streets. I’d strolled by (though not spoken to) Sigourney Weaver and Christian Slater. Selwyn once met Fab Five Freddy at Hammersmith station and passed his business card on to me. I gathered up my first three chapters, written and printed on a Canon Starwriter I’d returned to its owner months ago, and went to the church at the first opportunity.
