Creepy kid: the memoir

The number one question I get about the memoir is “Why is it called Creepy Kid? You’re not creepy. You’re actually super sweet. Can I hug you?”

It’s called Creepy Kid because that was the term of “endearment” my mother called me.

Go ahead. Cringe. Everyone does. Including me. But at least the name was unique. Horrible, but unique. Like my childhood.

When I wrote the book I was a mess. Mid-40s and working high-profile gigs assisting famous people in Manhattan.

My lover of 13 years had left me to to find himself in Tampa. Yes, Tampa. I told everyone back then he went to Paris. Sorry, but if I’m gonna be left by a younger lover dealing with an existential crisis I’m telling people he’s doing it eating a baguette in Paris, not in a place nicknamed God’s Waiting Room.

I was in therapy three days a week back then. Suicidal, erratic. People would read my Facebook wall and PM me “Are you still alive?”

Even my shrink said back then “You’ve been seeing me so much I can now buy that condo in Boca I’ve been lookin’ about.” #truestory.

The writing of the book freed me. Sure, I have my mothers hair, feet and her laugh but I’m not possessed by her anymore. She’s free, I’m free.

The book won some festivals (Huffington Post and Simon and Schuster) and I’ve adapted it into a TV series, Woodbridge.

It’s available for publication.

Creepy Kid is author Michael C. Bryan’s true-life award-winning memoir about his childhood growing up under the abusive hand of his mentally ill mother and how he triumphed after years of abuse, life as a child sex worker, and debilitating depression and clinical anxiety. Happy and healed today, Michael’s story is about everyone’s desire to be who they truly are at all costs and is told with humor and grit and genuine uplift.

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based on the original screenplay of the same name (by yours truly)


To avoid any redundancies, click over to the “Feature Film Scripts” section where you’ll read the whole deal on Black Angel.

This is the page for the book I adapted based on the original screenplay I wrote. I write. A lot. My therapist is very happy I spent my time writing and not calling him anymore.

He’s two seconds away from moving to Florida. Wait. He’s a snob. Paris. He’s two seconds away from moving to Paris. That’s a theme here - Paris vs. Florida with men in my life. I’m sure it means something. But I digress.

I specialize in digression.

I’ll add this: adapting a screenplay into a book is something I did because I knew Cornell would have done it. It was my gift to Cornell, a man who has inspired me for so very long.

The book is fast, furious and clocks in at a near 286 pages. It’s one of those reads you fly through.

Bottom line: it’s a page-turner. I have ADD, we all have ADD now. This is especially for those of you secretly abusing Ritalin. I don’t need Ritalin. You’d kill me on Ritalin, and that’s not a joke.

The book is available for publication.

It's 1939.  New York City.  Hunched over a desk is Cornell Woolrich, the soon-to-be famous suspense writer of “Rear Window” and “The Bride Wore Black.”  He’s a terribly lonely and isolated man in his 30s desperately trying to write his very first novel, but he can't. Something stands in his way. A horrible desire. A desire so awful he can't reveal it to anyone, especially to his mother - a powerful member of elite New York Society.  Without warning, a man enters their lives. He's elegant, charming, sexy... he's irresistible. He swoops into Cornell’s life and seduces him into a world of dangerous possibilities.  It becomes frighteningly apparent that this dark stranger holds the key to Cornell finishing his book and the key to unleashing his terrifying desire.

No, really. I’ve surrendered to the present moment.

No, really. I’ve surrendered to the present moment.



Hello beautifully neurotic mofos.

I call my coaching company MCBHappier because I think it’s enough to ask to be happier. Happiness all the time is insanity.

Happier is totally doable.

I started my coaching company after having suffered from horrible depression and anxiety for four decades (you do the math - don’t remind me of my age, please. I’m a bit of a Recovering Narcissist).

It took me many years, numerous amazing teachers and books and seminars and long nights with a bong to help me forge my balance. Now I’m in the fortunate and grateful place to help others with their healing.

My crazy dead mother would have loved this book. It has attitude, humor, is down-to-earth and at the end of the day designed to offer loads of processes we all can do to figure our shit out. I spent years honing these methods and trust me when I say this shit works.

Look for it just in time for your Christmas angst. Links for it will be on this site, and on the official MCBHappier Instagram account.