Stredwick

I will be writing film scripts for all of my novels and short stories..

A  Ms Jane Sanchez emailed me about purchasing the film rights to one of my novels, Undercover Soldier. My reply email to her was returned as not correct-jane@imdbmax.com. This novel has sold a lot of copies. 

 Earlier this year a lady, Jean Sanchez, a producer, contacted me about the film rights purchase of one of my books. However my reply email to her bounced. If she sees this post she could email me again if possible. Thanks.

 If anybody is interested in purchasing the film rights to any of my novels, plays or short stories please contact me at  1-876-5680692. My email is glengoffe1@cwjamaica.com or austin_mitchell_5@hotmail.com.   My Collection of short stories: Bring Back the Good Old Days-7 stories,  Waiting to Cross the Bridge-8 stories, Better Days are Coming-9 stories, Going Into the Hills to Teach-15 stories, I’m Back From the Hills Now- 15 stories, The Worst is Over Now- 9 stories, Taking a Short Cut Home- 8 stories,  Going to the Bushes to Cut Firewood- 8 stories,   Novels: Undercover Soldier-Part One, Undercover Soldier-Part Two, Uptown Lovers-Book One, Uptown Lovers-Book Two, The Downtown Massive-Book One, No Tears for Sonya, Sleeping Love, Hot Nights in the Hills, The Money Found in the Canvass Bag, The Hardest Way Out of Love, Backwood Lovers, The Night Lovers, Games Lovers Play (Love Games), Sleepless Nights in the Hills,...

Father Christmas by Austin Mitchell I honestly don’t know why they called Mr. John, Father Christmas. I don’t know if was the colorful clothes he used to wear. Or maybe it was the three piece suits he used to wear along with a top hat. He would dress up especially when he went courting. There was one time we were on this outing to the airport to see one of our villagers off to England. As usual Father Christmas was immaculately dressed. He sat beside a yound lady all the way to the airport. When we were returning we stopped in Kingston to have luch. Lunch was being served aboard the bus. When the man who was selling the lunches approach him. “Me have curry goat, stew peas, jerk pork, ackee and saltfish. Weh yuh want, John?” “A want go a me yard.” Clearly he was hurt as the young lady had rebuffed his advances. He was a thrice married man on the fringes of his seventieth birthday. The young lady whom he went courting was in her late twenties. About fifteen minutes later I saw him eati...

The Old Man and the Bottle The old man was grizzled. I remembered him now. He was Jake Burnett. He used to teach at Mc Cauley High School over in Keswick in North East, St. Catherine. That was nearly thirty years ago. Jake would be in his late sixties, I thought. “Juicy promised to rent me a room. When we went there the woman was still in the room. But as soon as she comes out he says I can have it.” “How much are you paying for it?” Boyd asked. “Twenty thousand dollars.” Boyd whistled. “That’s a lot of money,” he opined. I don’t think Jake would recognize me since he had only taught me for three months. I looked at him again. He was sitting under a tamarind tree in front of the playfield. His clothes looked worn and his shoes just about to give way. He took a quart bottle out of his bag. It was only half full. Boyd and another man, Justin, were soon helping themselves to some of the rum and boom. I introduced myself to Jake. “Can’t say I remember you now. I’m retired and all that.”...