Senior Writer
Senior
United Kingdom 🇬🇧

Patrick M

Hire Writer

Bio

Born to a Chilean-Dutch mother and an Anglo-Argentine father, I had already lived in Italy, America, Peru, Egypt, and Spain by the time I came to the UK aged 11. Since starting my writing career covering the civil war in Yemen, I have worked on a wide variety of projects from kids’ series such as Shaun the Sheep to major wildlife series such as Human Planet. In 2017, I wrote and directed my first feature film which won Best Film at the British Independent Film Festival. To me, stories are everything.

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As a Story Terrace writer, Patrick M interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know our writer better by reading the autobiographical anecdote below!

A Terrible Liar

Many years ago, when I was in my 30s, I was driving to London with my wife and kids when our campervan conked out on the side of the road. As our own breakdown cover didn’t insure us for being towed back to Bristol, I decided to ‘borrow’ my parents’ RAC cards – devoid of photos – and hope that the RAC man didn’t look at them too closely.

An hour later, after the rest of my family had gone to find somewhere to eat, the cavalry arrived in the form of a guy with a few missing teeth and a squashed nose from a lifetime in the boxing ring. Thankfully, he knew his engines and told me he would have to tow us back to Bristol. But first he needed to check my membership card. With a feeling of dread, I handed over my father’s card – with his name on it – and watched as he took it back to his truck and ran it through his computer. Then I watched as he walked back to me.

“So your name’s Rodney Makin, is it?” he asked, looking at my father’s name on the card.

“Yes. Yes, that’s right,” I lied, desperately trying to hide my growing nerves.

“And you’re 74 years old?”

Of course, what I should have done at that moment was admit defeat or pretend to be insane. But, I didn’t. Instead, I remembered that I still had my mother’s card on me and that she and my wife shared the same surname and the same first initial.

“Oh dear,” I said, “I seem to have given you my father’s card by mistake. But not to worry. I have my wife’s membership card right here.”

With that, I handed over my wife’s membership card and watched as he carried it back to the truck, spoke to someone back at headquarters, then returned with the card in his hand and a no-nonsense look on his face.

“So your wife is Elizabeth Makin?” he asked.

“Yes,” I lied, trying to sound positive.

“And she’s 78 years old?”

I stared at him. He stared at me. I prayed the ground would open up and swallow me whole. He prayed the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Then I apologised for lying and wasting his time, and he drove off without us.

I still go red when I think of that day…

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