David Barry

Attended stage school at the age of 12, and worked as an actor throughout his teens. In his early twenties played Frankie Abbott in the TV sitcoms Please, Sir!  and Fenn Street Gang and wrote an episode of the latter, which led to writing three episodes of Keep It In The Family in the early 80s. First novel, Each Man Kills, published by Gomer Press 2002, followed by his autobiography, Flashback - An Actor's Life in 2006. Since then his novels include: Willie the Actor, The Ice Cream Time Machine, Mr Micawber Down Under. The Wrecking Bar and Missing Persons (both published in the name of Meurig Jones), Careless Talk, More Careless Talk, Muscle,  and A Deadly Diversion. His latest book is Tales From Soho, a collection of short stories set in that famous London district. He also gives after dinner/lunch talks based mainly on his child actor experiences and touring Europe with Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh, much of which he wrote about in his autobiography. He has also written for the theatre. His play about one of the Great Train Robbers, A Friend of Ronnie's, toured the south east in 2012, and in 2013 Mr Micawber, which he adapted from his novel, also toured the south east. He has also worked in writing and performing training scripts, mainly in the public sector, plays  and sketches for diversity issues, and he wrote a full-length play for the Garnett Foundation in diversity training. He is also a radio presenter, and broadcasts weekly on www.channelradio.co.uk




Camilla Shestopal
Peters, Fraser & Dunlop Group Ltd
cshestopal@pfd.co.uk
0207 344 1000

Fenn Street Gang (1 episode) LWT, 1971  Keep It In The Family (3  episodes) Thames TV, 1980  Morning Story - The Adventures of Marlowe 1976 BBC Radio 4   The Trail of the Lonesome Pine, theatre tour, 1976  The Lads From Fenn Street (co-writer) theatre tour 1973  Radio Fun (additional material) theatre tour 1989.  El Sid, (book of musical) Half Moon Theatre, 1987.  Seaside (serial) Brighton Argus, 1994 - 96.  Each Man Kills (crime novel) Gomer 2002  Flashback - An Actor's Life (autobiography) Authorsonline 2006.  Willie the Actor (crime novel) Libros 2008, and republished 2012 by AUK Ltd.  The Ice Cream Time Machine (children's book) Libros 2009, republished 2012 by AUK Ltd.  Mr Micawber Down Under (historical novel) Hale Books 2011.  The Wrecking Bar (crime novel) Hale Books 2012.  Careless Talk and More Careless Talk (novels) AUK Ltd 2012.  A Friend of Ronnie's (theatre tour) Katapult productions 2012. Missing Persons (crime novel) Hale Books 2013.  Mr Micawber (Theatre Tour) Katapult Productions 2012.  Muscle (crime novel) Thames River Press 2013.  A Deadly Diversion (crime novel) Acorn Books 2014.  Each Man Kills (crime novel) AUK Ltd 2014.  Tales From Soho (short stories) Acorn Books 2014.  

Books,Comedy,Scripted reality,Short story,Television,Theatre




Opening paragraphs

He had no illusions about the way he looked, knowing how he blended into the background - a featureless person no one would remember, and that was useful in this line of work. Which was why he felt safe staying in the same hotel as the target, secure in the knowledge that people barely gave him a second glance. And his real identity had disappeared somewhere in the dismal past, dropped like a stone into a lake, and it was highly unlikely his false identity could be compromised.

A Deadly Diversion

Raindrops trickled across the lilies like tears. Were they lilies? Lambert wasn't certain. Flowers had never been his strong point. He felt his arm being touched sympathetically, and a voice of condolence, heavy with theatrical emotion, said, 'He was a good bloke, Harry. Deep down he was a good bloke.

Even if he did treat my mother like shit, Lambert thought.

Each Man Kills

I'm not addicted to coke and sometimes go weeks without a hit. But occasionally, when it feels like it's going to be a long night, I like to liven up the old grey cells a bit.

Muscle

A creaking noise came from deep within the stillness of the building. Eddie "Doc" Tate stopped working on the safe and listened intently. Even though it was a December night, and cold inside the office, tiny drops of sweat glistened on his forehead.

Willie the Actor

It was almost 3.30 p.m. and Jimmy Harlan was on his eighth pint on an empty stomach. He had reached that drinker's point of no return, everything a blur, a hazy weaving in and out of reality, and he had no idea that his binge drinking on that fateful Tuesday afternoon was about to lead to his downfall and set in motion a sequence of violent and lethal crimes.

Missing Persons

As he neared the familiar terrace house, Keith slowed his steps. Thoughts of turning back and going home weighed on his mind but he was committed now. He'd promised his friend, and he would go through with it. Besides, in a strange way, the thought of what was about to happen fascinated him - like being drawn to the scene of an accident.

The Wrecking Bar

Bored with the long summer holiday, but at the same time showing no desire to return to school, Bridget, and her younger brother Robert, spent a great deal of time arguing and bickering. And today was no exception. As they sat at the kitchen table eating their breakfast cereal, Robert commented on his sister's eating habits.

The Ice Cream Time Machine

Following heavy autumn rains, the streets of Melbourne became appropriately known as 'the swamps' by some of the long-suffering residents. Mud was everywhere. Deep holes of it pitted the main streets like moon craters; traffic became bogged down by it as wheels failed to turn and hoofs stuck fast; and pedestrians sank knee deep in its unrelenting, clammy tenacity and floundered helplessly, wading as if through treacle. Mud! Meandering aimlessly through the wide thoroughfares like a big brown river in full flood.

Mr Micawber Down Under.

As the beer-fuddled poet blinked the sleep from his eyes, he knew there was something he had to do, or something he had already done, but his mind was a raging blank. Raging blank! He made a mental note of the phrase before staggering into the bathroom, promising himself he would write it down before it was lost forever in his booze-splattered brain cells, and wondered how many millions of the little grey devils he had slaughtered in last night's binge.

The Poet in Soho from Tales From Soho