I've started reading The New Adventures.  For those who don't know what I'm talking about, The New Adventures is a series of pro-Royalist novels published in the Interregnum between Kings Charles I and II.  The best-known writers of this range are probably Samuel Pepys and Thomas Traherne, both of whom went on to greater success after the Restoration.

For those who do know what I'm talking about, well, you know what I'm talking about.  Doctor Who books.

Fandom having suggested that I blog my slog (and it is a slog), here goes.  I'm reading these books largely, but not completely, in order of publication.

The Story So Far:

Alien Bodies:  Krotesque vagina dentata fantasy co-starring Sabalom Glitz.  

The Scarlet Empress: Busy.  Like Smollett on an off day, only without the fart jokes.

The Fall of Yquataine.  Like cheap margarine, i.e. unpalatably full of rape.

The Left Handed Hummingbird
and                                                Literature!  Thank cruk!
Human Nature

Cat's Cradle: Warhead.  Like the title sequence to La Femme Nikita (1990s version).

The Highest Science.  Unbeatable humour.  Unimaginative plotting (see The Plotters)

Thymewyrm: Genesis:  Probably the only New Adventure to be narrated by a child prostitute.

Tymeworme: Exodus:  I have never liked Terrance Dicks' writing.  Like watching Hitler's paint dry.

Walking To Babylon:  Witty riposte to Tymwrom Genesys by the author of Left Handed Hummingbird.

Timewyrmm:  Apocalypse: Drearily written and badly edited.  By the editor of the range.

Tymewrm: Revelation:  Like Human Nature, only with continuity references.

(Why Apocalypse AND Revelation?)

Cat's Cradle: Time's Crucible.  Pull the other one, it's got looms on.  Like watching a ten-episode version of "Journey to the Centre of the Tardis", only one that actually makes sense.

More to follow.  If not, this post to be deleted.

Apologies.  There are several hundred books to go.

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That has such worth yet knows not price
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of filthy, greedy mice.
Beside the fridge, beneath the hob
- I stared at them with open gob.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way
They squeaked in never-ending line
- At once I hid my cheese away.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their tails in sprightly dance.
They danced with glee and would not flee.
- It made it hard to drink my tea.
Oh, I could not but rue the day
I met such jocund company.
I gazed - and gaped - but little thought
What wealth to me the show had brought.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude.
Three things my heart with pleasure fill.
Mousetraps.  Poison.  Rentokil.

MORGAINE AND THE GREEN KNIGHT (Work in progress)

Sithen the psychic circus was ceased at Segonax

And Ringmaster rued in rage his Ragnarok

Frey the fearsome flew far forth

And vworping veered to visit Vortigern

Languid lake where legions lurked

And missing missiles a mystery made.

Bitter beer was being brewed –

In ancient alehouse was Ancelyn ambushed

But Mordred’s men met mighty Merlin.

While Brigadier Bambera bedded the blind 

bartenders

The Doctor played the spoons

Ace and Shou Yuing went on benders

Morgaine read the runes

And Doris wore suspenders

Once our warrior had watered his wisteria

Lethbridge Stewart lengthened his stride

Leaving safety, looking stern

Calmly clad in cardigan of khaki

A hefty handgun in his holster

By his belt a bag of bullets

Scrambled skywards, soaring in his Sikorsky

...

Yes, I know.

A Measured Response to Gerald Riley's "Time Loop"

Now, to the right hand side of Mars
There's a distant constellation.
Mind your head - you'll be seeing stars

To our hero's consternation.

 

He sometimes likes to play the fool

To learn plans from a psychopath.

With wisdom like "Bow ties are cool!"

He ought to write a monograph.

So, when we travel through the void
And aliens are disturbing us

They're always ones that he's annoyed,
That Doctor from Kasterborous.

---

Illustration: five annoyed aliens.

Gerald Riley's "Time Loop" is quoted on the adverts for a new Doctor Who poetry book, as follows (I have no connection with this book):

"The Best Doctor Who Poems In The Universe is a new book to be released by GJB Publishing compiling a collection of poems and limericks from fans around the world. A wealth of subjects are covered, including the Doctor, the Master, Cybermen, Sarah Jane, Donna, K9, The Green Death, The Mara, Gallifrey, Delia Derbyshire, and Rose; plus, what it's like to be a Doctor Who fan!

The anthology is edited by Garry Vaux, who said:

Poetry isn’t necessarily something you associate with Doctor Who but since new Who came back it’s had an extra emotional element to it and with it’s action hero, the heartbreak, the fun, the scares and the thrills, it seems like an ideal subject for poetry.

The artwork is stunning and there are some wonderful poems from some very talented people. I hope it will encourage more wordsmiths and artists to put pen to paper.

I’ve been a fan of Doctor Who since childhood and it’s the only programme these days I watch religiously so I’m delighted to produce something to celebrate it in a different kind of way.

The book is available to buy from the publisher's website.

Time Loop, by Gerald Riley

In the constellation of Kasterborous,
There lies a special place.
Locked in time through the spoils of war,
One survivor - who changes his face.

He’s lived for over nine hundred years,
But perished after four knocks.
His name is heard throughout the universe.
This mad man with a box.

So whenever you travel in time and space,
Through the stars so wild and dangerous,
Listen for the echo of two beating hearts,
In the constellation of Kasterborous.

Immortality (William Keith's Vain Hope)

Fit 1:  1992


When Jon Pertwee dies
I'll sit down and cry
My every belief will be shattered.
He fought rough and tough.
I loved the old puff.
He always was there when it mattered.


A smile on his lips
Each Saturday night.
With his hands on his hips
He blocked out the light.
He died with the kiss
Of a spider's cruel bite.


When Jon Pertwee's dead
I'll go home to bed
And think of him chatting to Elvis.
In heaven above
The home of God's love
There will be a huge gestalt pelvis.


I've prattled to priests.
I've nattered with nuns.
Hartnell and Troughton
Were simply dry runs.
I'm waiting for Pertwee.
The day surely comes.


Quand Perthuis est mort
Unless I am caught
I'll steal in and bottle his brains.
A straw up the nose
And out it all goes.
Clean and clinical bar a few stains.


I'll not let the grass grow
When Jon joins Delgado.
He'll not long rest six feet below.
I'll excavate Jon
Before he's long gone
And raise him again as an animatron.


When lightning strikes twice
My dream will come true.
A pleasanter thing couldn't happen to you.
From dawn until dusk
I'll bask in the glory
And Jon will enact his Cyberman story.


If I had a fetish it would not be sex
The night of the soul is where I draw breath.
I oftener dream of a gun than a dress.
All life is a role:  Jon Pertwee, meet Death!


---


Fit 2:  1996


Jon Pertwee's not dead!
You heard what I said.
Our hero is just in a coma.
Though he lies on the slab
He'll get back to his lab
And he's faking that noxious aroma.


His hearts have stopped beating
But there's no defeating
"The man of a thousand voices".
Let Decomposition
be met with derision:
Put your ear to his coffin for noises.


Jon Pertwee's alive!
He'll continue to thrive.
His place can be taken by no man.
How can Worzel be dead?
Stuff more straw in his head!
Call UNIT and search for the Crowman.

KeithCon 2012 (what rhymes with Eccleston?)

Piper stands with Eccleston,

On stage - but see who heckles them - 

He speaks not, for this beggar's dumb...

Yet swears at them in Makaton! 

12 December 2008

Fragmentary New Adventure

Foam coursed down Benny's body

And spiralled down the drain.

As she kissed Corporal Zbrigniev

Umbrellas filled with rain.

Ace groped in the darkness

For her black leather knickers

While an ancient evil entity

Possessed the local vicars.

The myth of the Dark Doctor (above).

The reality of the Dark Doctor (below).

 

1998ish.  As I said, just a fragment.