
I’ve had a fraught relationship with TV and movies, as a contributor at least.
Don’t get me wrong – I love movies and am a fan of good TV. I consider myself something of a nerd, and love nothing better than disappearing into the world of a well-crafted film or TV show. But looking at myself onscreen is a very different experience altogether. And the idea of having my work adapted for screen scares me a great deal.
Which is weird, seeing as my career as an author was more or less launched on TV, when I was invited to go on the Late Late Show with Sara Payne to talk about changing the laws around the release of sex offenders. Sara’s daughter, Sarah, was abducted and murdered in July, 2000 by a recently released sex offender whom she had no idea had moved into the area where she was staying. Sara wanted the law changed so that the public would be informed of the placement of dangerous individuals.
My appearance on the show is probably what pushed my first book, Wednesday’s Child, to the top of the non-fiction bestseller lists, and it began a period where I was on the box quite a bit. I had several regular slots on various talk shows, mostly commenting on child protection issues, but sometimes on other things too.
And I was never wholly comfortable with it.
I’m aware that I’m not exactly George Clooney, nor even Steve Buscemi. I’m a bit awkwardly built, I’ve more or less worn the same sort of outfit for the past 20 years (what my daughter refers to as my ‘uniform’: a teeshirt, jeans, a sports coat and converse high-tops) and my hair generally does whatever the hell it likes – I’ve sat in makeup chairs with very talented MUAs, and they’ve admitted that, with my cow’s lick and double-crown, they’re powerless to do very much with my coiffure.
But, as one producer told me, I look like a college professor, I can string a sentence together and when I get passionate about a topic, I tend to forget about the cameras and speak as if I’m addressing a class of students. People seemed to respond to that so I did the whole TV thing for 6 or 7 years.
The problem is, it’s time-consuming, and it mostly doesn’t pay very well. I’d leave work at 4.30, get on the road for Dublin where the main TV studios in Ireland are based, arrive in time to do my slot, and then either stay over in a hotel or drive back to Wexford to arrive just in time to go to bed. I made a lot of contacts and did have some fun, but after a while I realised this was time I could be spending with my kids, or walking my dogs, or – probably more importantly, writing something I’d get paid a hell of a lot more for.
So I started saying ‘no’ when asked to appear. And eventually, people stopped asking me.
Which was something of a relief.
Getting my books to the screen has been an equally challenging experience.
The first people to come knocking were the BBC, who wanted to make a TV version of my first two books, Wednesday’s Child and Crying in the Dark. That project got to the stage of talks, but they wanted to change things, and in those days I was very precious about my work. If I hadn’t written happy endings for my Wednesday’s Children, then I didn’t want some script writer to.
So that was the end of that.
Gerry Ryan, the wonderful Irish DJ and TV presenter, wanted to launch the project at RTE, the Irish national broadcaster and he and I went so far as to thrash out a loose outline for how it might happen. Gerry loved the books and he and I got on very well, but he sadly passed away before things got off the ground, and yet again, the option for the books lay fallow.
After I did an American radio show, Spooked, on Public Broadcast Radio, my 9th book, The Boy They Tried to Hide was optioned by a very reputable Hollywood production company. It has been in development now for almost a decade, coming close to production and then falling away again. I’ve looked at locations, met actors and script writers, chatted to producers and there is currently a very talented director attached, but I’m no longer holding my breath.
If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t there are lots of others interested in optioning it.
The person who successfully brought my work to the screen for the first time was absolutely the last person I ever expected to do so.
I remember wandering into my living room one evening when the rest of my family was watching the Irish soap, Fair City. A young blonde woman was on the screen, having one of those intense conversations people in soaps have. I recall asking who the actress was, as she seemed a bit more ‘real’ than the actors on that show usually were.
‘Her name is Carloline Harvey,’ I was informed. ‘She’s playing Farrah now. ‘ The character had been through several casting changes, and I figured there would be more, so shrugged it off and went about my business.
I thought nothing more of this until I received a call a year or so later from a colleague who had run into the actress.
‘Caroline Harvey would like to chat to you about making a film of one of your books.’

I think I laughed – I’d heard this one before.
‘Give her my number,’ I said, thinking she would probably never call.
She did. The following day.
Caroline is warm-hearted, funny, creative, honest, sweet and yet very driven and ambitious. She and I hit it off immediately, and so began an unexpected adventure into the world of film-making.
It culminated in the short film adaptation of Wednesday’s Child being long-listed for the Oscars and winning a slew of awards in Ireland and abroad. Caroline, Laura O’Shea the director and I went to the Irish Film and Television Awards, and the whole evening was simply amazing.
I had the surreal experience of sharing the red carpet with John C Reilly, of chatting to Michael D Higgins, the Irish president, of running into an actress from a show I was binge-watching at the time at the bar.
It was weird and wonderful and something I feel very grateful for.
On a more serious note, Caroline’s adaptation was so close to the way things actually happened as to be almost uncanny. I knew I’d found a collaborator I would work with again.
The film is a testament to that.
People had asked me many times over the years who I thought should play me in a movie. I’d heard all kinds of suggestions, too, everyone from Brendan Gleeson to Colin Farrell to Peter Dinklage have been touted – all of whom I would have been delighted to see take on the role.
I NEVER would have expected to see myself played by Caroline Harvey, that actress who played Farrah on Fair City so well. But she knocked it out of the park. I couldn’t be happier.
So when Caroline called in early 2024 to tell me she was making a documentary about social care workers, I jumped at the chance to be involved.
That I ended up being the main contributor, with my music running through the whole film, was a humbling experience.
‘I’m Grand’ premieres in a couple of weeks’ time at Donegal’s Disappear Here film festival. I’ve seen the finished product, and Caroline has once again made a film that is honest, raw, moving and celebratory all at once.
I can’t wait for people to see it. I think it’s going to become part of lot of social care traning courses, and is an important contribution to the evolution of social care as a profession.
And Caroline and I have a few more projects in development, too.
I have a feeling we’ll be working together for some time to come.
Your post was a captivating read. I so admire that you held to what you felt was right, was best. These stories need to be told in honesty — those watching eill sense and know the difference. Otherwise, the message will be list, the storyteller distrusted — a loss for all.This journey shows that the are others who believe and hold firmly as you do.For the children.Thank you.Pam MillerSent from my Verizon Samsung Galaxy smartphone.
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Thanks so much Pam. I really appreciate your feedback.
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