When I was a young man growing up in the largest Protestant, working-class, housing estate in Northern Ireland, I would think of the 12th of July celebrations more than I would think of an evening in the theatre or any notion of art. Later, when I became interested in theatre, I found it difficult to believe how hard it was to find a play about my community. It seemed theatre would churn out everything Irish, everything Catholic. Plays about Protestants were difficult to find, and the ones that did exist seemed removed from my experience. It has been suggested that the reason for this lack of material is that the world is not interested in my community but I believe it has more to do with the fact that my community has no interest in presenting itself to the world.

I have sat in 100 pubs listening to people complain that our side is never told. That the television is biased against us. That Hollywood movies love Irish Catholics and hate Northern Irish Protestants. That the media conspire always to make us look like a bunch of unreasonable, irrational, bigoted half-wits.

My frustration is that while everything Irish is promoted very skilfully and successfully around the world, members of my community seem to prefer to sit and whine about how unfairly they are treated and misrepresented without ever realising that maybe it's their responsibility actively to pursue change by writing plays or making movies. Obviously I believe we should not churn out tiresome propaganda but simply tell our truth, tell our reality and make it entertaining.

Just before my 16th birthday (I'm 35) I had to see the careers adviser in Rathcoole Secondary School. He asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I told him, "an actor or a singer". When he stopped laughing he suggested that I get that nonsense out of my head and concentrate on reality. The reality being that I was not allowed to sign on the dole until September and that the dole office was off Church Road beside the court. Then he added that it was probably good that I knew where the court was too.

I signed on the dole for the next eight years. Then, unfortunately I got a job at the bottom rung of the ladder in the Northern Ireland Civil Service. Boredom, frustration and despondence triggered and enabled me to resurrect my instinct to create. I joined a local drama group and began acting. Naively, I believed that I would shine as an actor if only I could play a young, working class Protestant. I couldn't find any material that reflected or informed my position, so I decided to write a play.

When I sat down to write, boom, it hit me that I had no language. So I got a dictionary and a thesaurus - the second and third books I'd ever read. The transition in my ability to think and communicate my ideas more clearly, fuelled by an energetic need to express, resulted in an overwhelming desire to read more, learn more, and write plays.

My first play, The World, the Flesh and the Devil, was about a young Protestant couple living beyond their means, whose debts were bought by the UDA. The pay-off was that the young man would become a member and wouldn't hesitate when called upon for favours.

I was unable to persuade anyone to produce or perform this play in Northern Ireland but fortunately the BBC was running a competition for radio plays and guaranteed a critique, which I thought I needed, to see where I might be going wrong. Was it content or writing skills?

I adapted the play for radio and won the competition. This play was broadcast on BBC Radio Four in 1991, and the success guaranteed a commission. I have since written 11 plays for BBC Radio Three and Four, cheek by jowl with my stage work. Much as I respect and value the radio experience and think it essential to the development of new writing, I became more enthused by the live arena that is theatre.

Independent Voice was my first stage play, and I was delighted to see it performed in Belfast in 1993. To me it was the first time I had seen a play that explored and explained some of the social complexities and the apparent dos and don'ts experienced by many working-class Protestants in north Belfast.

However, I was gutted that it took me four years to get my second stage play produced. Tinderbox Theatre Company, which produced Independent Voice, declined to perform the play, In a Little World of Our Own, saying that they had to move on to other things. The Lyric Theatre, Belfast would have preferred the play to be moved from a working-class Protestant housing estate in Northern Ireland and set in an anonymous environment such as Birmingham or Sheffield, England. It wasn't the class element that concerned them, it seems, but the fact that the story involved Loyalist paramilitaries. Although I am sure that great plays have been, should be and will be written about the people of Birmingham and Sheffield, it's simply not my experience.

There were other rejections before I met Christopher Fitzsimons, who had come to talk to me because I had won the Stewart Parker Award for Radio Drama. Christopher was representing the Abbey Theatre and gave a very impressive speech outlining its achievements, purpose, history and objectives. I asked him if the Abbey would have any objections to a play concerning Northern Protestants. He said no.

In a Little World of Our Own, directed by Conall Morisson, received its world premiere at the Peacock in Dublin in 1997 and sold out, was extended, brought back later that year, sold out again and then embarked on one of the most successful tours of Ireland in recent years. It went on to win three awards at the inaugural Irish Times Theatre Awards: Best New Play, Best Director and Best Supporting Actor. Further success in Dublin, London and San Francisco indicates to me that theatre audiences are interested in my community.

Each success has encouraged me to further explore and examine myself and my own community. As the Beast Sleeps delved into the psyche of the people involved in maintaining the Loyalist ceasefire. Trust dealt with a gun deal between a disaffected soldier and the UDA. The Force of Change examined attitudes within the RUC, after the Patten report.

Marching On, my new play, is set in the not too distant future, during the 12th fortnight and incorporates all the main Protestant players in the issue of marching. This, so far for me, has been the hardest subject to dissect. Running in the Lyric Theatre, Belfast at the beginning of the marching season, it attempts to take audiences behind the headlines and into the hearts and minds of three generations of Loyalism. Orangism, Loyalism and the RUC have been easily demonised for years, rightly or wrongly. Surely it is more interesting and essential to open these organisations up, look inside and therefore discover that at the core of these institutions are human beings with their own strengths, weaknesses, virtues and failings.

I have been accused of writing for a specific Protestant audience; I've also been accused of pandering to a Catholic audience. The reality is I merely write the plays. Theatres decide when and where the plays are performed, if at all, and audiences - Protestant, Catholic or others - decide whether to come and see them or not. Setting the plays in a specific location and writing about a particular community does not prevent me from introducing universal themes and applying them to us.

Marching On runs at the Lyric Theatre, Belfast until July 1st. Booking from: Belfast 90381081. See review below