Merry Xmas Everybody

 
According to Yuletide tradition, every year, on the last day of term, there shall be a Freelancers' Choir singalong of a popular Christmas ‘hit’ on twitter, initiated by yours truly (not having anything better to do). It’s a tradition that started way back in 2011 with Do They Know It’s Christmas and which continues to this day. This is how it happened on 21st December 2012. It took about 15 minutes from midday (the previous year it took nearly 45 minutes – we’re getting better!)

Jonathan Morris ‏@jonnymorris1973

Members of the choir. Songsheets at the ready.

Jonathan Morris ‏@jonnymorris1973

One two three four...

Jonathan Morris ‏@jonnymorris1973

Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall? #xmaskaraoke

John Dorney ‏@MrJohnDorney

It's the time that every Santa has a ball! #xmaskaraoke

Matthew Sweet ‏@DrMatthewSweet

Does he ride a red-nosed reindeer? #xmaskaraoke

Ed Stradling ‏@edstradling

Does a ‘ton-up’ on his sleigh? (#xmaskaraoke)

Simon Guerrier @0tralala

Do the fairies keep him sober for a day? #xmaskaraoke

Joe Lidster ‏@joelidster

So here it is, merry Christmas, everybody's having fun #xmaskaraoke

Rob M Clarke ‏@ahremsee

Look to the future now, it's only just begu-u-un #xmaskaraoke

Mark Wright ‏@markrwright

Are you waiting for the family to arrive? #xmaskaraoke

Cavan Scott ‏@cavanscott

Are you sure you got the room to spare inside? #xmaskaraoke

Robert Ross ‏@RobertWRossEsq

Does your Granny always tell ya that the old Songs are the best? #XmasKaraoke

Steve Berry ‏@unloveablesteve

Then she's up and rock 'n' rollin' with the rest! #xmaskaraoke

Will Howells ‏@willhowells

So here it is merry Christmas, everybody's having fun #xmaskaraoke

Tony Lee ‏@mrtonylee

Look to the future now, it's only just begu-u-un... #xmaskaraoke

Gary Russell ‏@twilightstreets

What will your daddy do when he sees your mama kissin' Santa Claus? #xmaskaraoke

Neil & Sue Perryman ‏@wifeinspace

Ah-ah! #xmaskaraoke

Catherine Harvey ‏@cathieharvey

Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall? #xmaskaraoke

Tommy Donbavand ‏@tommydonbavand

Are you hoping that the snow will start to fall? #xmaskaraoke

Paul_Cornell ‏@Paul_Cornell

Do you ride on down the hillside in a buggy you have made? #xmaskaraoke

Ian Potter ‏@ianzpotter

When you land upon your head then you've been sleighed #xmaskaraoke

Jonathan Morris ‏@jonnymorris1973

So here it is, Merry Christmas, everybody's having fun #xmaskaraoke

Peter Anghelides ‏@anghelides

#xmaskaraoke Look to the future now, it's only just beguuuuun

Paul_Cornell ‏@Paul_Cornell

IT'S CHRISSSSTMASSSSSSSSS!!!!!! #xmaskaraoke

Martin Day ‏@sirdigbychicken

So here it is-uh, merry Christmas-uh! Everybody's having fun. [Sung in the style of Mark E Smith] #xmaskaraoke

Nicola Bryant ‏@thenicolabryant

Look to the future now, it's only just begun. ♥.•°°¸.•*¨`*• ´♫ •.♥ #xmaskaraoke

I Hear A New World

 Hello. Just a quick blog to share the amazing cover artwork by Alex Mallinson for my forthcoming Doctor Who audio adventure Voyage To Venus. The story, which sees the 6th Doctor taking his old friends Litefoot & Jago on their first trip into time and space, is very much in the vein of the work of HG Wells, Jules Verne, CS Lewis, Olaf Stapledon and Edgar Rice Burroughs, and Alex's artwork really captures that classic-science-fiction feel. Particularly with the rhinoceros-like Shanghorns and the floating city of Amtor.

The other very important thing about this release - which can be ordered here - is that it is available for only £1 for the download (or £5 for the CD). This is part of an experiment in pricing by Big Finish to see if making the releases much, much cheaper will encourage more people to give them a try, and encourage those who would otherwise nefariously download the audio from some file-sharing site to purchase it legally. I'm a little sceptical regarding the latter but anything which encourages more people to give Big Finish a go is a good idea. And it's also a Great Big Well-Deserved Thank You to all of Big Finish's regular customers

Seriously. It's only £1. That's basically the price of a bag of crisps. And why not buy Matthew Sweet's audio at the same time? It's also £1 and follows on from Voyage to Venus. Or buy a bag of crisps, it's up to you.

Here's the blurb for Voyage To Venus:

Professor Litefoot and Henry Gordon Jago are accustomed to the murky fog of Victorian London and the palatable pints of half and half at the Red Tavern. They are not used to travelling through time and space with their old friend the Doctor.

And now they fined themselves whisked off to the planet Venus in the distant future, at a time when warrior women rule from a floating city in the clouds. There’s a mystery here, one that the Grand Empress Vulpina intends to keep secret. Even if it means destroying these visitors from the long-dead planet Earth...

The story features Colin Baker as the Doctor, Christopher Benjamin as Henry Gordon Jago, Trevor Baxter as Professor George Litefoot, Juliet Aubrey (of Primeval fame) as Vulpina, Catherine Harvey as Felina, Charlie Norfolk as Ursina and Hugh Ross as Vepaja.

Do They Know It's Christmas?

Here’s a silly, fun, festive thing I did on twitter at midday today: I started a singalong of Do They Know It’s Christmas. This is how it happened:

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
Members of the choir. Songsheets at the ready.

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
The hashttag is #xmaskaraoke

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
One two three four...

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
It's Christmas time, there's no need to be afraid #xmaskaraoke

Paul_Cornell Paul_Cornell
At Christmas time... we let in light and we banish shade. #xmaskaraoke

cathieharvey Catherine Green
And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy

markravenhill Mark Ravenhill
Throw your arms around terra in the mutter spiral at Christmas time

TomSpilsbury Tom Spilsbury
But say a prayer, pray for the other ones. #xmaskaraoke

jamesgrayh James: DrWho Fansite
At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun #xmaskaraoke

jamesmoran James Moran
Theeeeere's a world outside your window and it's a world of dread and fear #xmaskaraoke

edstradling Ed Stradling
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears ... #xmaskaraoke

theolismith Oli Smith
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom, #xmaskaraoke

joelidster Joe Lidster
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you. #xmaskaraoke

HokusBloke Neil Gardner
And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time #xmaskaraoke

ianzpotter Ian Potter
The greatest gift they'll get this year is liiife (woah oh) #xmaskaraoke

anghelides Peter Anghelides
Where nothing ever grows, no rain nor River Song.

MrsSteveOBrien Steve O'Brien
Do they know it's christmas time (flight) at all?

sirdigbychicken Martin Day
Here's to you, raise your glass for everyone #xmaskaraoke

PiaGuerra Pia Guerra
Here's to them, underneath that burning sun #xmaskaraoke

gossjam James Goss
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

mrtonylee Tony Lee
Do they know it's Christmas Time at all.... #xmaskaraoke

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
AND NOW: EVERYBODY ON TWITTER! #xmaskaraoke

At which point about a hundred or so people joined in tweeting the chorus with the hashtag #xmaskaraoke. For about 15 minutes.

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
Applause! Well done everyone! That was fantastic! #xmaskaraoke

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
Thanks to everyone who took part. Particularly everyone who came in too early, too late, or who sang the wrong line. #xmaskaraoke

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
Though I think 45 minutes is possibly too long for Do They Know It's Christmas. #karaoke

jonnymorris1973 Jonathan Morris
And a very merry Christmas to you all. x

This may become a Christmas tradition. I hope so. If nothing else, it gained me about 250 new followers!

The Child

And I’m back.

Two overdue plugs first.

The latest issue of Doctor Who Magazine is out now, featuring part one of my final Doctor Who comic strip (at least for a while) called The Child Of Time. It features glorious artwork by Martin Geraghty, the guy who did the Axons story last year, and is something of a ‘season grand finale’ as it picks up the various ongoing threads that have been woven through the previous eighteen months’ worth of stories and ties them up. I’ve just delivered the final part of the story (it’s a four part story) which will be out in November, and then someone else will be taking over.


It would be dishonest of me to say that writing the Doctor Who Magazine was a childhood ambition; for it be an ambition, it would have to seem impossible and to be honest, as a child, I was so much in awe of the people responsible for the comic strip – Pat Mills, John Wagner, Steve Parkhouse etc. that I never dreamed for an instant that my own name might be added to the list thirty-odd years later. But it has, and that’s something of which I am immeasurably proud. I’ve loved writing all the stories, I think they all turned out extremely well (for which I give all credit to the artists, colourists, letterers and editors) and I’m massively grateful to have been given a chance to show what I can do, in terms of telling lots of different styles of story, working with so many talented people, and convoluting a big, complicated-but-hopefully-not-too-complicated arc. I look forward to them all being compiled in a big graphic novel of some form (I don’t know when, but it’s inevitable it will happen eventually).


And secondly, Big Finish have recently released on CD a Companion Chronicle story I wrote back in 2008, called The Mists Of Time. It stars Katy Manning as Jo Grant and relate one of Jo’s adventure with the Jon Pertwee Doctor Who. It was given away as a freebie with Doctor Who Magazine, but this is the first chance that people have had to pay for it! It comes in a box which is, quite frankly, a thing of inordinate beauty, which also includes another former freebie called Freakshow and all the many episodes of The Three Companions by Marc Platt (the companions in question being the Brigadier, Polly, and my own creation, Thomas Brewster.) Please buy.


And finally. I’m back on the internet, thanks to PlusNet. After I wrote the previous blog, and moaned excessively on twitter, Pete from Virgin Media got in touch and offered to arrange for broadband to be installed the next day, but by that point I’d already decided to cancel, because you shouldn’t have to write blogs and moan excessively on twitter in order to get a standard of customer service which is denied to people who merely phone to complain. On top of moving house, it was an extra level of stress which I didn’t need.

However, the fibreoptic cable they left still remains outside my flat. I received a letter saying they were sending someone around to finish the installation tomorrow, on the 2nd, despite the installation having been cancelled, so I look forward to finding out how they will proceed, in much the same way, and with as much confidence, that one looks forward to Norman Wisdom approaching a swimming pool.

UPDATE 2 SEPTEMBER: No-one turned up.

I’ve a few more blogs I want to write, on Lewisham and it’s supposed ‘riots’, and other nonsense. I’ve also realised that on my computer I’ve got lots of reviews of Shakespeare plays and Blakes’ 7 episodes and other things which might as well reach a wider audience. And there are a few deleted scenes and background note things from Touched By An Angel which I’m desperate to inflict upon you. And I haven’t even mentioned the Tom Baker Doctor Who audio story...

And finally, I am on twitter, so should you wish to receive missives of devastating pith and insight in real time, as and when they pop out of my brain. I’m Jonnymorris1973

Virgin

Having just moved house, I thought it would be sensible to stay with the same internet service provider, Virgin Media. I'm not quite sure what madness possessed me to do this, given that last time I moved, they deleted my email account without warning - including the entire contents of my 'inbox', emails which I hadn't had the chance to download, including dozens of messages relating to work.

They told me that there was broadband available at my new flat - this was one of the things I checked before moving, as it would be a deal-breaker - and informed me that it would be installed on 17th August.

About four or five days before the 17th August, two blokes from Virgin Media turned up at the flat to check the broadband connection and declared that all was well.

On the 17th August, another bloke from Virgin Media turned up at the flat and declared that actually there wasn't a broadband connection available at all and that one would have to be fitted. He then contacted some colleagues to fit the broadband cable and left, promising to return later that day to finish the installation.

Three more blokes from Virgin Media then turned up at the flat and - without calling to let me know they were there, or even ringing my doorbell - began trampling over the lawn and ripping up my neighbour's rose bush in search for a broadband cable that didn't exist. Realising their mistake, they then put in a broadband fibre optic cable, connecting it to the Virgin Media box up the road. They then left the other end of the cable dumped on the lawn and then vanished without another word.

The first guy, the guy who had promised to return, did not return and has never been heard from since.

Wondering quite what was happening, the next day I called Virgin Media, and eventually got through to a helpful lady at the call centre called Kim, I think, who was quite rightly appalled by their incompetence. She told me that they wouldn't be able to finish the job until September 2nd. I pointed out that the fibre optic cable they'd left on the lawn would almost certainly be damaged by the rain by then, assuming it hadn't been stolen, and that perhaps their staff should actually finish the job now, as they had said they would when I first notified them; at no point did anyone tell me that the job would take longer than expected until I phoned up Virgin Media to find out why they hadn't finished it.

The helpful lady said she'd get an area manager to call me back later that day with a view to getting the installation fitted at an earlier date. Nobody did call me back.

And now today, I've spent approximately two hours on the phone to Virgin Media trying to chase up this mythical area manager - which has cost me over £40 as I'm using a mobile phone, as Virgin Media didn't install my telephone either.

I started with Laura, who was very helpful, then got put through to Joe, who informed me that all he could do was appraise me of the installation date. I commended him on his excellent installation-date-appraising abilities and then got put through to Anush, who transferred me to a phone queue for a manager which then eventually hung up on me before I was put through.

I should point out this took two hours; at every step of the way, I had to inform the customer service people of the situation,. Each of them informed me that it was impossible for a company of Virgin Media's size and means to be able to finish installing a broadband connection before September 2nd; I might as well be asking for a bottle of unicorn juice. That was the earliest possible date, I was told. Before being put on hold for twenty-odd minutes listening to Your Song by Ellie Goulding and One Week by the Barenaked Ladies until either they hung up on me or I got put through to someone else.

The latest person I spoke to, Siobhan, promised me that an area manager would call me back. I pointed out to her that I'd been given precisely the same promise yesterday and nothing had happened. So far today, I haven't been contacted by an area manager. I'm not holding out much hope.

UPDATE 20 AUGUST: I was never called back.

So there you go. It seems to be standard Virgin Media policy for them to leave a job half-finished, dumping cables on lawns and leaving wall-sockets open, and for their employees to then leave without so much as a word as to when it might be completed. They will not bother to contact their customer but instead, when their customer contacts then, do everything they can short of anything that which might constitute fulfilling their contractual obligations.

I should make it clear that all the call centre people have been as helpful as they could, bearing in mind they had no direct responsibilty nor ability to resolve the situation. I feel it is the company itself which is displaying both incompetence and contempt for its customers.

You're History

Time to dash to your nearest branch of WHSmith’s, because there’s a new issue of Doctor Who Magazine out. This month it hasn’t been polythene-bagged, so you can read it in the newsagents absolutely free. But don’t do this, please buy it and take it home, it’ll take at least a couple hours to read the whole thing.

My contributions are the script for the comic strip, the second and conclusive part of The Screams Of Death, where all the Trilby-homage-ing gives way to a bit of Victor Hugo, all very gothic and grand opera, and a ‘Fact Of Fiction’ article about the classic 1987 Sylvester McCoy adventure ‘Paradise Towers’.

I say classic largely out of a trying-to-be-ironic habit of referring to all of the old Doctor Who stories that way (it’s a thing, to dull to explain) but partly because I do, in all honesty, hand on heart, actually think the story has a lot to commend it. It’s not particularly highly-regarded by Doctor Who fans in general, indeed, there are only about a dozen stories less-well highly-regarded, but that, I suspect, is largely down to some quite bizarre production decisions made on the story (even by the standards of mid-80’s Doctor Who) and a couple of misjudged, mannered performances, rather than the script, which is very original, funny, scary, dramatic and well-structured.

It’s quite a challenge, doing one of these ‘Fact Of Fiction’ articles, which concentrate on the fiction of the story rather than the behind-the-scenes production; it’s more about the writing than who played which monster. The challenge is partly in trying to retain one’s sanity whilst being so immersed in the detail of one story, and partly in trying to come up with new things to say, and uncover new ‘facts’, about a story which has already been subject to the scrutiny of Andrew Pixley, David Brunt and others. So I’m quite proud that the article does contain a few new bits of information about the story’s content and its context, and in writing it I learned a lot about Brutalist architecture, whilst re-reading High Rise by JG Ballard and The Ballad Of Halo Jones by Alan Moore, and reading for the first time, The Castle by Franz Kafka. That’s one of the best thing about this writing lark, all the weird places it leads you. I mean, previous projects have had me reading up on Charles Darwin, the Glorious Revolution, Victorian spiritualism, funfairs, railways and river-scavengers, the Trojan war, Mary Shelley and the romantic poets, all the latest scientific theories regarding time travel and evolution, the composition of Mars and its moons, space elevators, folklore, the Battle of Spion Kop, the Battle of Waterloo, the complete life and works of William Shakespeare and Dickens, the Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang, and, most recently, the social history and pop culture of the 1990’s and early 2000’s.

Regarding the last one, yes, I was there at the time, which is an advantage, but you’d be surprised how much you forget - and because a lot of readers will have also there at the time, you have to make doubly sure that you get it right. Fortunately there are sites like BBC Cult which are an invaluable resource of such information; unfortunately the BBC is planning on deleting them, and many others containing large amounts of content generously provided by the general public, such as H2G2 and WW2 - The People’s War. Just as deleting files off your own PC doesn’t save you any money, this won’t save the BBC a penny, and is potentially an act of cultural vandalism if not in the same league then in the same mindset as throwing away all those episodes of Top Of The Pops, Doctor Who, Hancock’s Half Hour, Not Only But Also, The Likely Lads, Dad’s Army and, possibly the greatest tragedy of all, dozens and dozens of other shows that no-one ever mentions because they’ve never heard of them because they were thrown away. Anyway, that’s what the BBC plan to do with a hundred odd of their websites, because the guy in charge of the BBC’s website policy doesn’t seem to understand what a top-level-domain actually is and as part of a fatuous and counterproductive exercise to look like they're cutting costs. For more info on what's happening, I recommend this blog.

There are also some other features in the magazine but I didn’t write those, you’ll have to buy the magazine to find out.

He's Misstra Know-It-All

I’ve been in several ‘fandoms’ over the years, and irrespective of whatever-it-is the fans are fans of, the same personality types tend to be present. There’s Mr (or Ms) Relentlessly Negative. There’s Mr (or Ms) Relentlessly Positive And On Message. There’s Mr (or Ms) I Was Here First And Have Spent More Money Than You, So My Opinion Counts For More Than Yours. All well-intentioned types, in their own way.

But then there’s another type of fan, Mr (or Ms) I Know Something You Don’t. He (or she – but let’s assume maleness for simplicity) is the fan who claims to be In The Know. Who has Access To Future Plans. Who knows all the Scandalous Secrets.

Now, you may think I am talking about someone specific. Well, yes, I am probably talking about exactly the person you’re thinking of, but I’m also talking about a dozen or so others too.

Talking of being specific – that’s something Mr IKSYD would never do. Because, after all, knowing something that people other people don’t is no fun if you tell them whatever-it-is you know; then you would no longer no something that other people don’t. No, you have to crow. You have to gloat. And most of all, you have to hint.

Hints can come in many forms. They’re all smug and annoying. Generally, it’s a way of saying, ‘Oh, I know something about that’ without ever revealing what you know. The ellipsis is the friend of Mr IKSYD, he uses it at the end of every sentence. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find there’s more to Kalid than meets the eye...’ ‘Oh, I think you’ll find there will be an unexpected surprise for fans at the concert...’

Why aren’t they more specific? Two reasons. Neither of which are because they wish to protect their source. No. Firstly, the pleasure of gloating is all in the sadism of teasing, and secondly, because Mr IKSYD is often utterly wrong. So he needs to cover himself for that – extremely likely and frequent – eventuality. Secure in the knowledge that people will only remember the few morsels that he got right.

It’s pathetic. It’s a grown-up still playing that game you play when you’re five, the game of ‘I know a secret’. Where someone asks you ‘What is your secret?’ and you say ‘Guess... and I’ll tell you when you’ve got it right!’. The game being, the person with the secret doesn’t even need to have a secret at all. Oh, grow the F up!

But I’m confusing the issue – because there are two distinct types of Mr IKSYD, the Munchausens who are simply bullshitting like they’re back in the playground, and Mr IKSYD, the Deep Throats who actually do know stuff. Because, you know, it’s not difficult to find stuff out. It’s actually very straightforward; all it takes it a certain type of obsessive, calculating, mendacious persistence.

That said, they’re both equally pathetic. How tragically atrophied their genitals must be if getting one-up on their fellow fans is the only way in which they can feel significant. ‘Oh, I managed to steal a script from a bin and post it online... so from now on I wish to be known as The Shadow!’

The ones who drop hint though, the ones who do the dot-dot-dot, they’re the worst. Why? Because they don’t think they giving away spoilers. But – and this is a crucial but – when a story is constructed, it’s a carefully-planned trail of exposition and misdirection, where the author has chosen what to hint, what to conceal. And even the smallest hint can destroy all that hard work. Just tell someone to ‘pay close attention at the scene where Bruce Willis is shot...’ and you’ll see what I mean.

The irony being, of course, that fans who are genuinely In The Know tend to shut up about it, because they would be horrified at the idea of ‘spoilering’ the enjoyment of others.

Some People Never Know

On a forum in which I participate, various people have taken it upon themselves to psychoanalyze the personality of one of my friends. It’s a bizarre thing to read. I imagine it would be even more bizarre to be the subject. People who haven’t actually met the person in question seem all-too-eager to find fault.

The temptation is, naturally, to defend my friend. But I won’t. Because in the world of the internet, that would be to concede that the matter was even worthy of debate. ‘Don’t dignify it with a response’. There’s no point. Nobody in the history of the internet has ever had their opinion changed by someone else correcting them.

“Oh, thank you for pointing out the flaws in my argument, and providing me with facts which support an alternative thesis, I have now changed my view as a result.”

THIS NEVER HAPPENS.

No, instead it will only serve to prolong the discussion. Because there is no point in arguing with people who are self-evidently wrong. It’s like arguing with someone who says the Beatles were crap. I mean, if someone holds that opinion, that’s okay, but clearly they are not the type of person who is ever going to let ‘facts’ intrude upon their world view. They’ve made up their mind - and now they’ve closed it.

Besides, I know how wrong ‘public impressions’ can be. I’m sure, to several, I come across as a complete dickhead, obnoxious, surly, unapproachable. When, to me, I’m merely struggling to overcome my own insecurity, awkwardness, and embarrassment.

And anyway – the whole business is simply a Rorschach test; people projecting their own personal issues onto somebody they don’t know, where their opinion tells you very little about the subject, but rather a lot about the person doing the criticising.

You Little Thief

File-sharing on the internet isn’t stealing. It’s probably not helpful to call it that. Because the people who do it don’t think they are stealing. They’re using the Adrian Mole defence.

In one of the early Adrian Mole novels – i.e. the first two, the good ones – our hero justifies taking a train journey without paying for a ticket because, I quote from memory, ‘the train would take me there whether I paid for a ticket or not.’

That’s pretty much the same argument that file-sharers use. The people who make TV shows, CDs, books or computer games aren’t being deprived of a sale because otherwise you couldn’t have afforded to buy them; the people who want to pay for these things still will pay for them because they are rich enough to afford to, it doesn’t matter if other people who aren’t as well-off get them for free.

To use another analogy, it’s like people sneaking in free to cinemas without paying. After all, they’re going to show the film anyway whether you pay or not, right? And if you couldn’t get in free, you wouldn’t have gone to see the film, so it’s not as if the cinema or the people who made the film are missing out on getting your cash.

But to extend the metaphor – file sharing means that for the one person in the cinema who paid for the ticket, every other seat is taken up by someone who got in free. Who the one person who paid for a ticket is subsidising. They’re the real victim in this – the person who pays more because they’re paying for everyone else

File-sharing is...it’s like those people who shove themselves through a tube turnstile immediately after you because they haven’t got a ticket. That’s what it is.

Don't Back Down

So it’s the end for Doctor Who Forum. Formerly known as Outpost Gallifrey. I can’t say I’m surprised or altogether disappointed and can only agree with Shaun’s decision to shut it down. It’s just not the fun place it once was.

Seems to me, it’s the recurring pattern of the internet. A small group of friends get together, on a bulletin board, newsgroup, yahoogroup, internet forum or wherever. They have larks. Gradually the group expands until it stops being a group of friends and becomes a group of strangers. The signal-to-noise ratio decreases and the in-fighting begins. People lose patience, they niggle at each others’ nerves, arguments get entrenched into ruts and by this point the small group of friends who started the whole thing have long-since departed for greener pastures. Or start writing blogs instead.

I don’t know what the solution is. Gated communities, probably. Invitation-only members’ clubs. There are just too many damn idiots out there and they shout too damn loud.

Regarding Doctor Who Forum, I’m surprised Shaun kept it going for this long. If I was in his position, I’d have shut it down permanently after the whole Christopher Eccleston leaving brouhouha (where one ‘super-fan’ memorably described the actor playing the Doctor as being ‘lower than a cockroach in [their] estimation’). I’d have shut it down again after the unholy and unbalanced reactions to Daleks In Manhattan and Catherine Tate’s casting – it’s one thing for fans to let off steam in private, it’s quite another for them to do so on a public forum which is being trawled for scandal by tabloid journalists. It’s because ‘fans’, for so long, have been used to slagging off actors, writers and producers on the assumption that their subjects would never get to hear about it. Well, no more.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Part two of my Paul McGann and Sheridan Smith Doctor Who adventure Hothouse will be made available on the Big Finish website today. I look forward to reading what the response is; indeed, if there even is a response. Because, although I work on the principle that reviews aren’t important, I shouldn’t let them affect my personal happiness, I can’t help reading them. Although it’s too late to change anything, it’s still useful to know what went down well and what didn’t. To identify where your weaknesses may lie.

But, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere on the blog, I won’t enter into discussions because I’ll look like a berk. I’m not saying that other authors who enter into discussions about their work look like berks, it’s just that if I did, I would.

That said, a Doctor Who website, Dr Who Online, has set up a ‘q & a’ section with me in their forum. My mugshot is now above Joe Lidster’s, which I feel must be significant. I’ve resisted doing these sort of things in the past but if it helps promote Big Finish and my work, I’m happy to oblige.

My reluctance stems partly from fear of coming across like a berk and partly from not being comfortable with the idea of ‘superfans’; of there being an ‘us’ and there being a ‘them’. I’d much rather be treated as an equal.

Anyway, Hothouse. To qualify a statement I gave in an interview somewhere, when I said I wanted it to feel like Spooks. I meant in terms of pace. Because radio is inherently a slow medium, and with Hothouse I was trying to avoid the syndrome of fade-out, music, fade-in, which means each scene change takes five seconds. I was trying to make it feel fast. That’s all.

Vegetable Man

Tonight, on the Big Finish site, they’re making the first episode of my new Doctor Who audio adventure, ‘Hothouse’, available for download. It’s available individually or as part of a subscription, where people buy a whole seasons’ worth of Doctor Who adventures, which strikes me as a very good deal when you bear in mind there’s a second adventure by me later in the run. Plus all sorts of marvellous stuff by Alan Barnes, Barnaby Edwards, Nick Briggs, Pat Mills and the he’s-almost-as-talented-as-me genius that is Eddie Robson.

Somewhere on my hard drive I’ve got the first outline for this story, back when it was called ‘Blooming Horrible’. I’ll stick it up on this blog after the story has come out on CD, give you all a fascinating insight into the creative process, or rather the process of how Alan, Barnaby and Nick helped me turn a not very good idea for a story into something much better.

I’m really rather excited about the whole thing. Fingers crossed the Big Finish servers don’t explode. The idea of having everyone listen to a thing more-or-less at once really adds an edge. And, having heard the finished play a couple of days ago, I think it’s turned out pretty well. There’s some very effective post-production in there, the cast navigate a course through the choppy waters of my dialogue, and I had a couple of tingly, ‘Now that is actually good’ moments. What, were you seriously expecting that I might slag it off? Of course there are things which are now glaringly apparent to me that I might’ve done better... but not as many as usual.

Part two will be up the same time next week. Please don’t download it illegally; if you want golden eggs, you gotta feed the goose.

I Didn't Have The Nerve To Say No

Not all of the blogs I’ve written have appeared on this site. I also keep a word file of ‘Iffy blogs’; blogs I’ve written whilst in the throes of righteous anger or which turned out, upon reading back, to be a bit more harsh than I’d intended.

So that’s where my more contentious musings have gone. To be pondered over, considered and re-written. Because I’m acutely aware that anything written on the internet never goes away. Quite a lot of it never gets looked at, and never will, but it’s always there, never more than a google search away. So anything I write, I check over, thinking, ‘Could this come back to bite me on the bum in five, ten, twenty years time?’

Hence the positivity. The love you take is equal to the love you make and the smile that you send out returns to you.

It’s interesting, though, to think that in about ten years we’ll have a generation of adults who will have to spend the rest of their lives knowing that every adolescent flame-war on an internet forum has been preservered for posterity. Soon after that, there’ll be children looking up the arguments their parents had as children. Then grandchildren. And so on... until they all get bored.

And for the celebrities and politicians of the future, they will have their juvenile scribblings forever available to public scrutiny. In fact, everyone will be able to point and laugh at the foolishness of everyone else. It’ll be a great day for the human race when that happens. The internet – a recipe for world peace.

Kind of like my theory that the Third World War should not be conducted with nuclear weapons but as a continent-spanning Scrabble contest on Facebook.

Because that way, the English would win.

Video Killed The Radio Star

Discussion going on over on the Guardian Media website, regarding PRS withdrawing permission for YouTube to show pop videos, because YouTube don’t want to pay the same royalty rate as everyone else on the internet.

As you might expect, there’s quite a few posts which can be summarised as, ‘Wah wah wah, “the man” wants to take my free content away, wah wah wah’. I won’t bother to address that argument, except to say that if any party is “the man” in this equation, it’s YouTube, not the PRS.

Other arguments. ‘The musician doesn’t get any of the money PRS collects’. Well, they get about fifty per-cent – and they’d get considerably more if companies like YouTube didn’t make the collection process so expensive. The fact that the royalty rate is scandalously small – an artist will be lucky to get enough money to buy a stamp from their video appearing on YouTube – doesn’t justify depriving them of what little they do receive.

But pop videos are just loss-leader advertisements for CDs, right? The PRS should pay YouTube for hosting it’s adverts! Wrong. Pop videos are as much a product as the music; more so, now there are no pop music shows on terrestrial TV and MTV became all about programmes about rappers doing up their cars and showing us around their mansions. You can buy pop videos on iTunes, you can buy DVDs. And, as anyone looking for the Virgin Megastore on Tottenham Court Road will realise, CD sales aren’t exactly booming right now – despite all the ‘free advertising’ they are supposedly getting from YouTube.

Final argument. ‘It’s shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted’. Which, if you think about it, is also a compelling argument for abandoning every murder investigation if they haven't immediately discovered the culprit.

Getting Better

A wise man once said the secret of becoming a good writer is seeking out harsh criticism. This is exactly right. You can’t improve if you don’t know what you’re doing wrong. The best writers tend to also be their own harshest critics; that’s what makes them stay up till 4 in the morning on draft number 15 when other writers are tucked up in bed with draft number 1.

It’s also, possibly, why great writers become less great; they find harsh critics harder to find and maybe harsh criticism harder to take. After all, as in any field, from pop music to politics, once you’ve had some success you’re going to start believing you know what you’re doing. And the prospect of an early night becomes more appealing than an early morning spent tweaking dialogue.

I wouldn’t consider myself a good writer, but whenever I’ve written something that’s gone down well, it’s because it went through a process of harsh criticism; several processes, several harsh critics and several drafts. It’s also why I tend to over-write; because in editing down, you can cut all those bits you weren’t quite sure about. It gives you permission to be brutal somehow. And, eventually, once you’ve cut all the crap, you’re going to end up with something incredibly good. Or something incredibly short. One of the two.

But I wouldn’t seek harsh criticism on the internet. Reviews, I mean. Because it’s too late. Harsh criticism is invaluable during the writing process. Afterwards, it’s pointless. You can't go back and do another draft, you’re never going to write that story again, and next time will be different, it always is.

So if writers don’t engage with internet criticism of their work... that’s why. Because it won’t help them become a better writer.

Pirate Aggro

The problem with internet piracy is not so much with the people downloading stuff – which isn’t stealing, it’s accepting stolen goods – but the people who upload stuff. I mean, why do they do it? It’s not out of selfless generosity is it?

No. It’s all an ego-trip. A way for someone who has no talent of their own to feel important. To feel they are sticking one over on ‘the man’ (a mythical figure who works mainly for the government but who occasionally moonlights for the recording industry). That somehow they are being a little bit clever, a little bit rock’n’roll. You can read their petty self-justifications all over the internet.

I don’t think calling it ‘piracy’ helps. Piracy summons up images of guys with Cornish accents who like to get into cutlass fights despite suffering a shortfall in the hands/legs/eyes/ears/noses/teeth department.

I suggest a different name. ‘Littledicking’. Let’s all start calling it that. There is far too much littledicking on the internet. Torrent sites are full of littledickers. The reason why indies are going the way of the pig-footed bandicoot is due to all the littledicks. The reason why labels don’t invest more in non-mainstream music is because, what with all the littledickage that's going on, it’s not worth it.

FWIW. I’m talking about littledicking in the sense of people who upload CDs (or whatever) the day they’re commercially released (or before). That’s the real problem. With regard to, say, people downloading TV shows from other territories, it’s more a matter of TV distributors and channels not getting their arses together so that shows are legitimately available everywhere at the same time. In those cases – where there is no available commercial option – I suppose it’s okay if people want to leech off any littledicks that are sticking up.

Lazy

There’s nothing quite as lazy as criticising a writer for being lazy. I mean, I’m sure many writers are lazy. Working from home, you put in as a few hours as you like, you get up when you want, you can type horizontally upon a cushion. But when I read reviews that accuse the writer of laziness... that’s just such lazy. Such lazy journalism, if the person is a journalist. Glib, facile, knee-jerk. It’s almost – almost but not quite – as irritating as people condemning a show for having ‘canned laughter’ when it has a studio audience laughter track. But I shall explode about that later; I can feel it building.

Thing is, the stuff that falls under the umbrella of ‘lazy’ tends to be one of two things. Writers rarely get accused of laziness for writing functional dialogue. They don’t get accused of laziness for writing purple, flowery dialogue, because clearly effort has been taken, polishing the words for that lilac hue.

No, ‘laziness’ is demonstrated either in a) the apparent existence of a plot hole or b) a predictable joke.

a) first. You know that plot hole you so cleverly spotted? The writer spotted it months ago. They agonised about it, found a credible solution to it, but after hours of weighing up alternatives, decided not to include it. Whether they were right or wrong is immaterial; point is, they weren’t lazy.

Regarding b). People laugh at predictable jokes. Predictable jokes – even a guy slipping on a banana skin – can be funny even if you spot them a mile off. The biggest laughs tend to be from big, obvious things – chandeliers falling, silly dances, public nudity. There’s nothing intrinsically lazy about trying to write big jokes; as in writing songs, ‘simple’ can be hardest thing to get right.

Get The Joke

A while ago I came up with the concept of the ‘aspel’. An attempt to kick-start a meme. What’s an aspel, I hear you ask? Don’t interrupt, I was about to explain.

An ‘aspel’ is the phenomena (particularly prevalent on the internet) of people adding their own extra little funny bits to the ends of the other people’s jokes. Specifically, it means adding extra little funny bits which are essentially the same joke - but spelt out. Which means that the person doing the ‘aspel’ wasn’t aware that the joke had been finished and felt that it required their own Mike Giggler-esque punchline.

It’s named in honour of the great Michael Aspel. When he presented This Is Your Life, not an anecdote could pass without him tagging on his own little superfluous re-iterative adjunct.

Example: Someone on a forum discussing, say, Shameless, might say, with tongue in cheek; ‘I hope it doesn’t become one of those shows which keeps on going long after all the original cast have left and end up a shadow of its former self!’. To ‘aspel’ this would be to add, ‘I think it’s a bit late for that!!!’

The best ever ‘aspel’ was by a flatmate of mine. Someone had told this joke online:

There’s three men and a woman hanging from a cliff by a rope. The rope isn’t strong enough for all of them, so they decide that one person should let go so that the others can survive. The woman gives a very touching speech about how she will be the one to let go, because she is used to giving things up for men without getting anything in return.

The men are so moved, they all start clapping their hands...”

Cue my flatmate’s ‘aspel’: “And then they all fall off the rope!!!”

Word Up!

This blog’s been going for about a month, so I’m thinking it might be time to start actually telling people about it. After all, I’m not writing this for me. I’m writing this for... no, I am writing this for me. (ROCK STAR) And hey, if anyone else likes it, that’s just a bonus (/ROCK STAR).

It’s been fun. I’ve kept it up. In fact, I’ve ‘banked’ about two weeks of future blogs, just in case the day comes when I can’t think of something to witter on about. I’ve even made a list of another month’s worth of subject matters upon which I feel I have some burning wisdom to impart. So it looks like I’ll be doing this for a while yet.

As a preview – coming up – more reviews, more heroes, more obsessions, my thoughts on the evils of computer games, whether Christians were ever fed to lions, whether Charles Dickens would have written for soap operas, my enemies, and... ducks. I also do requests, so if there’s anything you want me to witter on about, please scissor out the appropriate letters from the newspaper of your choice, Pritt-stick them to a sheet of A4, attach with an elastic band to a convenient rock or house brick and hurl in my general direction.

What I do need help with, though, is getting the word out. I’m loathe to toot my own trumpet – only one percent of men can do that successfully – but any other suggestions are welcome as I am quite profoundly lacking in initiative. If you’ve enjoyed something I’ve written, tell your friends. Link to me. Spread the joy like flaming beacons upon a mountaintop. You have my permission.

I guess what I’m saying is that it’s not a secret any more. I’m going public.

Imaginary Friends

Facebook is fun, but I’m not sure what the point is. Okay, so you can chat with your friends, share baby photos, organize get-togethers, look up school pals... but I’m sure pretty you could do that before Facebook. And you can play scrabble, chart the progress of an influenza virus through your friends’ status updates...

Regarding friends. I’ve about 200, but I’ve limited it to people I’ve met in real life, or have known ‘virtually’ for a while. I don’t quite understand why people who don’t know me want to be my friend; I’m guessing it’s some new form of sarcasm that I haven’t yet grasped.

And gradually you discover more about each other, which I suppose is a good thing, though it can lead to tongue-tied pub conversations because everyone already knows everyone’s news. And I was a bit disconcerted when an acquaintance joined one of those ‘The killers of Baby P must die!’ groups. In fact, the whole process of joining a group to express sympathy or indignation seems such sanctimonious nonsense. Going on a march may be futile, but at least it gets you out into the fresh air. (I used to go on marches, which is how I know what worthless exercises in conscience-salving they are.)

But for those of us who suffer from social paranoia, it kind of doesn’t help. When someone ‘unfriends’ you, you can’t help wondering why, what did I do? I didn’t join ‘the killers of Baby P must die!’, so why don’t you love me any more?

And there’s the whole business of ‘blocking’. Where, to pluck an example randomly from the air, someone can block an ex to avoid ever seeing their ugly mug again. Oh well, fair enough. I do have an ugly mug after all.