Welcome to the homepage for author and publisher David J Howe. I'm the author and co-author of numerous books about the TV Show "Doctor Who", as well as being a freelance writer and Editorial Director of Telos Publishing Ltd.
If you'd like to comment on any of my musings, then just click on the 'comments' word under the post, and then on the 'Post a Comment' line under the post on the next screen.
It's been twenty-seven years! Twenty-seven years since I was last commissioned by an external publisher for a new Doctor Who book. In that time I set up Telos Publishing, and of course we published some of my books, like The Target Book and The Who Adventures. I also self published two volumes of my Doctor Who reviews, called Then and Now (available from https://samantha-lee-howe-ltd.sumupstore.com/search?search=David+J+Howe)... but this is news of a totally new book, from a new-ish publisher in town!
BEDFORD SQUARE PUBLISHERS ACQUIRE TITLES FROM HUSBAND AND WIFE
Editor-at-Large
Maxim Jakubowski is thrilled to announce the acquisition of two
strikingly different books by a married couple. USA Today bestselling
author Samantha Lee Howe introduces a smart and seductive new cosy crime
series, Mel Greenway Investigates, while David J Howe – renowned Doctor Who authority – shares a heartwarming and delightfully geeky memoir, Who Me!
Maxim
says 'It's not every day you get the pleasure of acquiring two very
different books from authors who happen to be husband and wife! I've
long been a fan of Sam's fast-paced and cinematic USA Today bestselling
writing, her new series introduces a gutsy British heroine and sleuth of
the first order. While. David's
memoir of how the iconic TV programme changed his life is a monument to
geeky charm and Terry Pratchett-like in tone, and will become
indispensable to its millions of fans.
Samantha Lee Howe says:
'I've
always been fascinated with post-War thrillers and I love quirky
independent investigators, so combining the two fed straight into my
passions. In addition, I have christened this novel "co-sexy" as its
cosy crime, but mixed with simmering and sexy undertones, all filleted
with the twists and turns and unpredictability that I know readers enjoy
in my novels. I hope readers will love Mel as much as I do!'
In
contrast, David J Howe's memoir is a nostalgic, emotional, and often
humorous journey through a lifetime spent immersed in the world of
Doctor Who.
'It
seems like I've lived my whole life to be able to write this book,'
says David J Howe. 'I often say, if you cut me you will find Doctor Who
written through my flesh like the words in a stick of rock! I feel that
many readers will find echoes of their own lives in the pages, and it's
superb that a shared appreciation of a television programme can bring so
much love and hope into the world.'
For both titles, Maxim Jakubowski acquired World English Language rights from Camilla Shestopal at Shesto Literary.
I'm absolutely delighted that the lovely Mr Paul Finch has taken one of my stories for his latest Terror Tales collection, Terror Tales of the Home Counties.
Moreso as that's where I was born and grew up: Tolworth in Surrey, near to Surbiton and Kingston-Upon-Thames. It was nice to revisit some childhood memories for the story, and to also bring in some real places, locales and people ...
I decided to set the tale down by the Hogsmill River, which runs through Tolworth and Berrylands and on into Kingston where it joins the Thames. Just beside the A3 road - which is the main thoroughfare from London down to the South Coast, and which is claimed to be the UK's busiest stretch of non-motorway road - there is a patch of greenbelt alongside the river called the Elmbridge Open Space. The river also runs under the A3, and just beside there, as in my story, there is a small block of flats (https://www.instantstreetview.com/@51.388114,-0.270892,329.16h,8.1p,1z). The tunnel under the road is there too, as are the hideouts and fallen trees where my brother, Alan, and I used to go as kids. It was a different world back then, when there were not predatory pedophiles hanging around on every street corner to snatch you away, and when your pocket money could buy you a bag of chews and sweets to last a week - or at least it seemed that way. The view of the river from the A3 can be seen here: https://www.instantstreetview.com/@51.388533,-0.270032,343.93h,-7.03p,1z.
To the mix of my story I also added a real life character, sadly now deceased, called Moses. And it is from him that the story gets its name. For I have realised Moses - a friendly chap, outrageously dressed, who was often to be seen in and around Kingston and New Malden, just chatting away to people - as a sort of unknown and unappreciated superhero!
And if you'd like to see the real Moses in action, here's a couple of videos:
ADDENDUM
As it's the anniversary of Moses' passing ... here's the text of the story for free ... hope you enjoy ...
MOSES
David J Howe
The moonlight barely
made it through the tree branches overhead, but Toby was glad of the darkness.
He listened intently, but there was no sound, just the gentle rustling of the
trees in the wind. Maybe soon he’d be able to move away from here ...
For the hundredth time
he wondered why he had gone out that night at all. It was all Simon’s fault. If
his school friend hadn’t double-dared him to spend the night in their hideaway
by the river he wouldn’t be there ... and now look at where this stupid adventure
had got them.
Toby drew in as much
breath as his eleven-year-old lungs could manage. He had to stay calm or the thing might come for him. Toby settled
his back against the tree trunk and let the breath out in a silent huff. He
focussed on holding the panic in, all the time wondering how he would escape
this awful nightmare.
*
It was about five
o’clock in the afternoon the previous day, when Simon and Toby had made their
way down to the Hogsmill River. They lived in a small block of flats alongside
the A3 road – one of the main routes into London from the Home Counties. About
a mile away they could see the stark outline of Tolworth Tower. Office blocks
for the most part, though with a large Marks and Spencer’s shop underneath.
The Hogsmill was a
small stream, which flowed under the A3, heading for Kingston, where it joined
the Thames. Where it came from no one seemed to know – explorations upstream
tended to end where the river diverged from thefootpath
– certainly there was a large hill here, but where the river emerged was
something of a mystery.
But down by the flats
where Simon and Toby lived, it was easily accessible, and there was also a
strip of green land all the way alongside it. Various exploratory trips had
revealed the presence of old hiding places and camp sites, sometimes with the
remains of fires still in them.
The boys had never
seen anyone else use them, but this didn’t mean there was no-one about. The
sites were often well hidden right on the bank on the edge of the river within
enclaves of fallen trees and branches, and could be entered by crawling through
hidden tunnels which were often themselves blocked with wood or foliage. It was
a paradise for Toby and Simon. They loved the idea of their own secret hiding
places, and often headed down there with sandwiches and bottles of drink.
On this particular
evening, Toby had managed to smuggle a blanket out of the flat, and some
crisps, and a bag containing a couple of Mars bars and an apple. Simon was to
bring his own supplies, which included a battery powered radio. It was
summertime, so the weather was warm, and there seemed to be no issue with what
they planned. Just some harmless excitement for the summer holidays. They’d
each told their parents that they were going to the other’s home for the night,
so their families would not be worried.
They met at the gates
into the greenbelt beside the river, and made their way to the hiding place.
Neither wanted the
whole of the area to go up in flames and for it to be their fault.
So this was brought as
an emergency measure only.
They settled down in
the den, and busied themselves throwing pebbles into the river. One side of
their lair opened to the side of the river, so it was perfect for watching the
water and idling away the day. The river had fish too, which could be seen
flitting in between the algae and plants, but despite various attempts with
rods made from old sticks, and line from bits of string with bent paperclips on
the end, and the occasional bait of worms or other pieces of food, they had
never managed to catch anything.
The evening drifted by
and the boys were calm and relaxed.
All was fine until
darkness fell.
*
Toby looked out of the
den again. It was pitch dark outside, and there was no movement at all. Maybe
he should try and make a break for it.
Simon had run. He had
taken his chance and raced for the exit to the greenbelt area. Toby had heard
him go and the last he had seen had been his heels flashing in the faint light.
He hoped he had got out.
Toby stirred and moved
slowly, trying hard not to make any noise. When he got to the entrance to the
den, he paused.
The night was silent
and still.
He pushed aside the
brush that partially covered the entrance and stepped out.
His foot cracked a
twig.
Just a gentle snap.
Toby froze. Foot
poised.
From somewhere in the
darkness he heard something moving, something careful and predatory getting
closer once more.
He pulled his leg back
and retreated to the den again, pulling the brushwood over the entrance behind
him with a rustle.
He wasn’t sure if
whatever it was in the dark would hear that. But it was close now and making a
gentle crunching sound as it moved around.
The smell was awful. A
rotting, noxious mixture of everything that was bad. Toby had once found a
rabbit killed by the side of the road, and the smell from the decayed corpse as
he and Simon investigated it with sticks had been similar. But even that wasn’t
as bad as this miasma, which accompanied the thing.
The creature was
snuffling around outside now, stirring the dry leaves and grit as it went.
There was a scraping sound. Toby saw what seemed to be a giant spider leg, thin
and segmented, with lots of large hairs or thorns growing from it.
This went on for a few
minutes. Something big and heavy moving about outside, shifting things noisily.
Toby clamped his hands over his mouth and nose to still his whimpering and his
breathing and to keep the stench from his nostrils. The worst thing he could do
now was make a sound.
Toby could hear his
own heart beating. Thumping in his ears. He was sure that whatever was outside
could hear it too.
He forced himself to
calm down. He shut his eyes tight and took in a deep breath and let it out as
slowly as he could. This helped and after a few more breaths, he opened his
eyes. The darkness was still there, but there was silence outside now.
He looked around.
Nothing to see. The box of matches and paper was still on the floor. Toby
picked up the matches and shook the box. There was a soft rattle as the matches
moved. His eyes shifted to the river, still flowing gently past. The sound was
relaxing somehow. Maybe he could wade along the river and get out where there
was more light and open ground, perhaps by the main road?
He leaned out of the
hide and looked upstream. It was no more than a couple of hundred yards to
where the water passed under the road. He could do it.
He crouched still,
listening.
There was nothing to
hear. No night-birdsong, or insect noise. There was usually some sound but
tonight there was nothing. He suspected that all the usual night creatures had
the right idea and had stayed at home … nothing wanted to be outside at the
same time as whatever the thing was that he had heard.
Toby made up his mind
and returned to the riverbank. He took off his shoes and socks and rolled up
his trousers. There was no sense in getting everything saturated. He dipped his
toe into the water and the sharp cold bit him. He scrunched up his face and put
his whole foot in the water. It was chilly, but not unbearably so.
He was pleased that
the water was at least clean. The river was fairly well maintained by various
associations. They would come every year and pull out all the rubbish that
accumulated there, old bicycles, bottles, traffic cones, supermarket trolleys
and the like, and generally keep it neat, tidy and healthy for the fish and the
ducks.
He slid his other foot
in and smiled. It wasn’t so bad.
Something moved
against his foot and he jerked. It was just a fish or something. Having a
little nibble on his toes. Nothing to be worried about, he told himself.
He picked up the
matches and paper and his shoes and socks, and gently pushed himself away from
the bank. The river bed was uneven and slimy, and every time he moved his feet
they slipped a little. With the current pushing against his legs, it was tricky
to stay upright. Every time he looked down at his feet, the patterns on the
black water running past gave him a sort of dizzy feeling and he had to either
close his eyes or look back up to stop himself falling over.
He fixed his eyes on
the lights of the road, and started wading slowly in that direction. With each
step he put his foot down carefully, waggling it a little to ensure he had a
firm perch before moving the other one. He didn’t think there was any glass on
the bed, but there were rocks and stones and other unidentifiable objects, and
the last thing he wanted was to trip and fall. The water gurgled and bubbled as
it ran past him, and the sound of his legs cutting the surface was hushed and
quiet. He hoped that nothing could see him, smell him or hear him.
He looked across at
the bank. It was pitch dark there. There was no moon tonight and no stars –
clouds had come in – and so apart from the lights ahead on the main road, there
was no source of illumination.
He pushed on through
the water, one foot after the other, slowly and steadily.
As he moved he could
hear the gentle drone of cars on the A3 increase. There weren’t too many at
this time of night, but the road was so busy that there were always cars
passing.
At this moment though,
Toby was pleased to see any sign of normal life.
There was a crack
and a rushing sound on the bank, as though something large had just moved past
him. Toby stopped and stood still in the water.
Silence.
He turned his head and
in the light from the road he saw something moving among the bushes and reeds
that lined the bank. He couldn’t make out exactly what it was but it was big
and quiet, and the light seemed to fall off it.
He stepped forward
again, toes searching for a hold underwater. The water sloshed around him, and
he felt rather than saw the thing on the bank pause and listen.
He stopped moving
again.
The current run of
traffic on the road passed, and there was silence as no cars approached. In
that stillness, Toby thought he heard something breathing. Then more cars
cruised past and the sound of their engines overpowered the slow, heavy
exhalations.
He moved forward
again, every step bringing him closer to the traffic bridge.
Toby realised that his
feet were growing numb. He could barely feel his toes as they sought out the
best footing, and the chill was extending up his legs. He shivered, gripping
his belongings against his chest as though they would help to keep the heat in
his small body.
He started to count in
his head as he stepped. One, two, three … Every step brought him closer and
closer to the bridge. And every step was a success.
Eventually Toby was
standing by the black mouth of the tunnel under the road. Up above he could
hear the sound of the occasional car passing. In between the sounds of the
cars, there was silence.
Toby swallowed and
looked around. There was nothing to be seen in the inky gloom. The streetlights
far overhead shone a yellow glow over the grass and river, but the shadow of
the bridge was dark.
Toby took a further
step under the bridge, the water washing up his legs. His foot hit something on
the concrete base of the riverbed under the bridge, and it gave. Something
moved beside him … and shifted above him, and Toby instinctively jumped back as
a wooden plank of some sort clattered from the bridge roof and splashed into
the river. He had obviously dislodged something and the plank had fallen from
above
There was a movement
over on the field, and in the yellow glow Toby saw the thing that had been
hunting him. It was hard to make out any shape, except a large, dark,
multi-legged shadow that moved swiftly across the grass, heading for the
bridge.
Toby let out a squeal
of terror and scrambled into the tunnel.
His feet stumbled on
bricks and other rubbish there, and the concrete was slippery too. He managed
to get further under when he heard the splashing of something coming up behind
him. He could dimly see the slightly lighter arch at the other side of the
bridge, and he headed for it as fast as he could. His feet slipped with every
step on the mossy and treacherous concrete; his few possessions were clamped to
his chest.
Suddenly, something
loomed out ahead of him, something man-sized.
There was a splashing
sound, and as Toby continued his way to the other end of the tunnel, he heard
someone clearly say, ‘No-one’s gonna take children from Kingston town. No. Not
happening.’
Then there was a
swoosh of air and a muffled crunch.
There was more splashing, and a growling, keening sound echoed around the
tunnel.
Toby paused and looked
back. Silhouetted in the tunnel entrance, a black shadow on a grey background,
was the figure of a man.
He was large and
stocky, and had a plank of wood in his hands. Toby could see in the gloom that
it seemed to have nails protruding from the end. The figure braced itself and
swung the wood as a shape that Toby could not make sense of leaped out of the
darkness. The wood connected with the monster with a solid thump and a sound
like breaking twigs. There was a hiss and the creature rapidly backed away
towards the far entrance to the tunnel. It had more legs than Toby wanted to
count, and one of them was dragging behind it.
The creature lunged
back and the man swung the plank again, missing the monster narrowly, his
weapon swishing through the air.
Toby pressed himself
to the side of the tunnel. There was a slight indent here, and a flat area on
which to stand. No water went over this, so Toby’s footing was firmer.
He realised that he
was still holding the newspaper in his hand. He hooked his shoes over his arm
and pulled the matches from his pocket. The first match scraped on the side of
the box but wouldn’t light. But the second caught with a fizzing flare, and
Toby lit the top of the wadded roll of newspaper.
There was more
splashing and hissing from where the man and the creature were still holding
each other off. With a rush, something came through the blackness at Toby and
he held the burning paper up in front of him.
He caught sight of a
hideous mouth with fangs, multiple eyes and legs, and an alien intelligence,
before the stranger took advantage of the distraction and caught the creature
full on with the nails and plank of wood.
In the flickering
light from his makeshift torch, Toby saw the thing convulse and shake. The man
took another smack at it with the wood, and it fell back, hissing and mewling
like some baby. Toby took a shuddering breath as it backed away down the
tunnel, the water splashing around its legs.
With a final hiss, the
thing vanished beyond the entrance, and over the man’s breathing, Toby could
hear splashing and the cracking and breaking of the trees along the riverbank
as it departed. The man walked to the end of the tunnel and checked outside. He
paused, listening, and then, after a moment, returned to where Toby was
crouching at the side.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Toby said. ‘I
think so.’
‘Come on then. We
can’t stay here. Gonna get you out of here.’
Toby allowed the man
to help him up. He held out his hand and it was almost engulfed in a large paw.
The two moved to the
other end of the tunnel on the far side of the main road above.
There was a low
barrier there of wooden railway sleepers with a section of wire mesh above it.
This seemed to be there to stop rubbish from flowing down river under the
bridge, and there was indeed a traffic cone wedged in the wire along with some
large pieces of wood and other flotsam.
The man moved a
section of the wire, creating a clear path through and he and Toby emerged on
the other side of the bridge.
‘It can’t get over the
top,’ said the man, nodding upwards. ‘And if it tries to come under … well I’m
waiting.’
He helped Toby cross
the water, which was fairly still here due to the barrier created by the mesh,
and the two of them stumbled up the bank.
Once they were
standing safely on dry ground, Toby got his first good look at the man who had
saved him. He was stocky, maybe just under six feet tall, but what intrigued
Toby most was that his skin was black as coal. The man smiled down at Toby, his
teeth gleaming yellow in the light from the road above them.
‘You OK?’
Toby nodded, and as
his eyes took in what the man was wearing, he realised that he had seen him
before. Even in the yellowed light from the lamps, Toby could see that the chap
was wearing a crazy mixture of clothes, most of them wildly patterned and
coloured pink, red and white. Slightly farther up the bank, Toby saw a
supermarket trolley festooned with items ranging from a pink skateboard to a
child’s brightly coloured pull-along luggage.
The man grinned again.
‘You got nice skin,’ he commented. ‘Gotta keep it that way.’
‘I know you,’ Toby
said. ‘I see you in Kingston on the way to school sometimes.’
The man nodded.
‘Kingston, yes. I’m Moses.’
Toby nodded. Moses was
something of a local legend. He was most often to be found in the centre of
Kingston, sitting on one of the benches, or standing on a street corner,
dressed in the maddest and craziest outfits. Toby remembered one that was all
red and white stripes.Moses was
currently wearing a clown wig that was similarly patterned. Another time he had
been dressed all in black, with a highwayman hat on … but regardless of what he
wore, Moses always had time for everyone. He wasn’t a beggar, he never asked
for money, but he smiled and talked and told everyone how wonderful everything
was … he was a legend. You couldn’t see Moses without a smile coming to your
face.
Toby looked around as
Moses smiled at him. He hoped that the thing wasn’t going to come back.
‘Should we get away
from here?’ he asked.
Moses smiled. ‘You can
get away,’ he said. ‘You could.’
Then Moses seemed to
stop for a moment. Toby saw his face crease as though he was trying to think of
something important. His eyes darted around and narrowed, but then he relaxed.
His lips parted in a wide grin.
‘Yes,’ the man said.
‘Let’s move away.’
They made their way up
to where the trolley was standing. Moses reached into it and pulled out a
bright red hat. He swept his hand over his curly hair and crammed the hat down.
Toby smiled. He looked
so ridiculous that you had to smile.
Moses glanced at Toby.
‘You smilin’,’ he said, and his own grin returned. ‘That’s good. Keep smilin’.’
Toby looked back at
the river tunnel under the A3. ‘What was that … that thing?’
Moses’ smile dropped.
‘That’s the bad thing,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘That’s why I’m here,
keepin’ a look out, and a watch. It’s why I’m an inventor and not a builder,
why I know about the animals and the flowers and rhododendrons and people …’
His eyes clouded
slightly once more, and Toby realised that Moses was affected by the battles
with this dark creature. He was struggling to stay focussed.
‘Come on, Moses,’ said
Toby. ‘Let’s get you back to Kingston.’
Moses grinned and took
hold of his trolley. ‘It won’t be back,’ he said. ‘Tonight, anyway.’
He looked at Toby,
again suddenly serious. ‘You shouldn’t be out. Not at night. There are … things
… which you don’t want to meet or see.’
Toby thought of his
friend Simon. He hoped he had got back home safely.
‘Come on,’ he said.
The two made their way
back up to the main road. There were hardly any cars, and they walked together
along the pavement towards one of the footbridges over the road. The bridge
happened to be right by the flats where Toby lived.
Once they had crossed
the footbridge, Moses took Toby’s hands again.
‘You stay safe little
friend.’
Toby nodded.
Moses moved off,
walking back along the road towards Tolworth where he could jump on a bus
towards Kingston and home. Most bus drivers knew him and allowed him free
rides. Moses, it seemed, was allowed to go wherever he wanted. As he walked, he
talked. Even on his own. He was Moses.
Toby nodded to
himself. That was only right, he thought. After all, if a town or a city has a
protector, whether it’s someone from the comics like Batman or Spider Man, then
they ought to have the freedom of the
place for all the good work they did.
But sometimes, the
person doing all the good work was unknown. Sometimes he was an apparent
itinerant called Moses, who never had a bad word about anyone, but who
lightened the day for everyone who met him. Someone who just made you feel
good.
Way back in the dim and distant past I was a massive fan of the Target Doctor Who novelisations ... I joined the Target Book Club to get advance information about them, I was sent cover proofs and cherished them ... eventually I got advance copies which was wonderful ... and of course ultimately I wrote a book all about them called The Target Book. Never has a range of books been more influential and iconic.
One thing I always wanted to do was actually write one! However that opportunity was never to be. Even though I knew the final editors working on the ranges, and was even being published by them, and was acting as proof reader on several titles ... I was never asked to pen one. Again, back in the day, I wrote my own novelisation of Image of the Fendahl. I remember listening to the audio I had recorded over and over in order to get the dialogue just right ... I probably even have my text somewhere! I think I even sent it to Terrance Dicks - having no clue as to how things worked - to see if he thought it might be usable ... of course it wasn't going to stand a cat's chance in hell ... but I was young and keen.
So it gives me such immense pleasure to announce that I have finally written a novelisation ... and moreover it's a novelisation of something I wrote which was made into a proper film that you can buy on DVD from Amazon and watch and everything ...
Daemos Rising was as most things tend to be, a labour of love, and I am eternally grateful to Keith Barnfather for allowing me to play with the toys for that production. Of course it's not just Keith I have to thank, as Marc Platt created the characters of Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and Douglas Cavendish, and the Daemons on Doctor Who were created by Barry Letts and Robert Sloman, and the whole Time Hunter idea and concept was co-created with Stephen James Walker for Telos, and that spun off of a Doctor Who Novella by Daniel O'Mahony called 'The Cabinet of Light', and then the final book in that series, 'Child of Time' was written by myself and George Mann ... so you can see what a fractured, complex and interesting these ideas have in their birth, gestation and eventual realisation.
For the novelisation, I have taken what we presented on screen in the film of Daemos Rising and enhanced it with additional material which, given the budget, could not be seen on screen at all ... There's the back story of the Ghost and his companion for a start, and the machinations of the Sodality in the future, as well as the real plans and intentions of the Daemons ... such a lot to cram into a novelisation.
But I think I've done it all justice, and the book works in the way I wanted it to.
It's such a thrill and a rush to take something written for the screen and to interpret it for prose ... lots of things change, motivations become clearer, and missing scenes and other helpful elements can be injected at the appropriate places. I hope readers really enjoy it, and start to appreciate what we all collectively saw the story of the Daemons as being ... from their debut in a 1971 Doctor Who adventure, through Daemos Rising, through my story for the White Witch of Devil's End anthology series, and ultimately to the Time Hunter novel 'Child of Time' ... Hopefully people will seek these things out, watch/read them in order, and have as much fun as we did ...
*** ‘In the void between time the devils waited … patiently … to be summoned again … to pass judgement on the Earth …’ KATE LETHBRIDGE-STEWART is summoned by an old friend, Douglas
Cavendish, to help him with a problem he has with ghosts and voices in
his head. But when Kate arrives, she finds more than she expected. Aided
by a time-traveller from the future, Kate must outwit both the ancient
race of Daemons, and the Sodality, a human cult-like organisation from
the future, which is intent on gaining control over time. Daemos Rising is based on, and expands upon, the Reeltime Pictures drama production Daemos Rising originally released in 2004 and available from www.timetraveltv.com. It also spins off from the 1971 BBC Doctor Who adventure ‘The Daemons’, and is a prequel to the Telos Publishing Time Hunter novella
‘Child of Time’. All characters used with permission. This book has not
been licensed or approved by the BBC or any of its affiliates. The special edition is an A-format paperback release, sized and designed to fit in with the Target Doctor Who
novelisations. It features a retro-art cover by Andrew-Mark Thompson,
and includes an 8 page full colour section of photographs from the
making of Daemos Rising in 2004.
Daemos Rising is written by David J Howe, noted Doctor Who collector and historian who wrote the original script for the film.
It's 2018 and I'm delighted that the second volume of my review book series Then and Now is finally available.
It covers Doctor Who from the start of the Matt Smith episodes to the end of the Peter Capaldi ones, culminating in the just-transmitted 'Twice Upon A Time'. This time around, many of the reviews are original and not from this blog simply because I didn't review them at the time! So if you want to know what I thought of the show through this period, then this is the book for you!
To go with Volume 2, I have 'refreshed' Volume 1 slightly, adding some colour to the lettering on the cover, and also making some slight textual corrections ... nothing significant though.
I still have physical copies of the original edition of Volume 1 available if people would like signed copies. Please order them from me direct here:
Original edition of
VOLUME 1
ORDER ORIGINAL EDITION OF VOLUME 1 OF THEN AND NOW
ORDER VOLUME 2 OF THEN AND NOW
In addition, the new editions of Volume 1 and Volume 2 are available to buy from Amazon at the following links ... Obviously these will be unsigned copies - but if you see me at any events etc, then I'm always more than happy to sign my own books at no cost!
It's always lovely when a book about a subject you're passionate about gets published, and even moreso when it's written by you! Thus it was when The Target Book was launched on an unsuspecting public back in 2007. The reception it got was brilliant, people seemed to love it! We ended up doing (I think) two print runs with our Indian printers (at the time, printing in India was cheaper than in the UK, even factoring in the shipping costs) of the paperback edition, and two different limited edition hardbacks with leatherette covers ... even so, eventually the paperbacks ran out, and the book slipped out of print.
We then had a problem. I would have loved to have got the book onto a Print On Demand system so that copies could still be bought, but the physical page size we had chosen (as being the largest we could do for the rrp we wanted it to be) was not compatible with any system, so we couldn't use the PDFs we had, and I didn't want to have to completely re-lay out the book. Printing in the UK was too expensive for full colour at a short print run, and so we just had to accept that the book was out of print and move on.
But people kept coming and asking about it, perhaps driven by the silly prices that copies of the book were displaying online (many of these driven by crazy automated pricing algorithms ... I suspect no book was ever sold at the prices being charged!) and we had to keep turning people away.
The BBC Books reissue.
Then, in 2016, several things happened all at once. Firstly I was approached by the BBC about whether I would lend some of my original Target cover art for an exhibition which was planned in London. I was uncertain, as there seemed to be absolutely no benefit to me in lending the pieces. It was to promote some reprints of the novelisations being released by the BBC, and the gallery was apparently charging an entrance fee for customers to see the exhibition, yet there was no loan fee, and no benefit to me in taking part. So I initially declined. The BBC in the form of Edward Russell was disappointed, but understood my rationale, and I think it was he who suggested, why don't you see if the gallery would sell copies of your book on the range? Not realising that it was long out of print.
In the same week, I had a call from a regular printers that we use at Telos Publishing, and in the course of the call, I mentioned that we had this full colour book, and we'd love to bring it back into print. My contact then told me that they had just got in some new colour machines, and that she thought we could do it for a cost which worked (obviously the unit cost - what the publisher pays the printer - for a book has to be low enough that when trade discounts and so on are applied, plus all the publishers' costs, that the book can make a profit for the publisher, otherwise there's no point in doing it). So we knocked some numbers around, and yes indeed, we could produce a new edition of the book for a cost which worked ...
So I then looked at the book more seriously to see what might need to be done. I checked with Arnold T Blumberg, who had laid the book out originally, to ensure that he still had the files, and that he could make changes to it if needed, and yes indeed he did.
BBC Books' 50th Anniversary edition
The immediate thing which needed attention was at the back of the book. We had seven pages of advertisements at the back of the first version, and pretty much all of them were now out of date. So why not use those seven pages more productively for a new Appendix, which could bring the story up to date. When we published the first edition, BBC Audio had only just started releasing the Target novelisations on audio, and indeed there was a short sidebar which discussed that elsewhere in the book. And BBC Books hadn't started their programme of reprints at all. So I could cover both of those developments properly in a new section. So I got started writing and researching. Luckily everyone involved was happy to help, so I got information from Michael Stevens who has produced the audio ranges, Ben Willsher who did some of the new artwork covers for the audios, Justin Richards, BBC Books Consultant and Albert dePetrillo, managing editor at BBC Books. With interviews completed, facts assembled, and artwork pulled together (Chris Achilleos kindly snapped some pics of his original sketches for the new covers he had done for the BBC for me to use in the book!) it was all taking shape nicely.
With the new section completed, I also had to address elements in the rest of the book. Paul Scoones kindly supplied a list of minor errors which he had spotted in the book, so these were corrected. I reworked the sidebar about audio releases to remove all the BBC Audio ones (as those were now covered in the Appendix) and to expand it slightly to include all the audio versions of TV stories which had been released beforehand. I missed off the Century 21 EP of episode 6 of 'The Chase' as that's not strictly a novelisation, more of a condensed and narrated version of the episode itself, likewise with the Genesis of the Daleks LP. But all the actual novelisations are now listed, from 1978's talking books onwards.
BBC Books' new edition
with new cover art
Other illustrative detail came from artist Jason Fletcher (Fletch!), who had kindly supplied an image of the fourth Doctor to use as a foil stamp on the back of the second deluxe, limited edition hardback. I felt that it would be nice to include that somewhere, and so it became part of the endpaper design for this new edition. Finally, Alister Pearson suggested using a piece which David Lavelle had created for the Target Exhibition which showed both the first and seventh Doctors against a Target background. We managed to fit this on the Dedication page (which I had always thought was a little empty before). Unfortunately the credit for Alister and David for this image somehow vanished from the files along the way ... so huge apologies to both for that.
Arnold sorted out the layouts, going through several iterations as usual to get everything to work and to fit. We shifted the seven blank pages to before the Index and the Target Cover Gallery as that made more sense, and expanded the Gallery to include all the new editions of the books which BBC Books have released to date. In a way this was a departure from the original intent of the Gallery which was to show all the original covers, and of course most of the new BBC editions use the original Chris Achilleos art, but they are so lovely that we thought it was worth showing them. Of course those titles with new covers (Remembrance of the Daleks, Vengeance on Varos, The Visitation and Battlefield) are also included.
David signing copies of the finished book.
I had decided to release the new edition in hardback - we'd not done a straightforward hardback before - and to that end, I needed to design some endpapers, and also, for the front and back covers, I wanted to take advantage of a new process that the printers had in, a UV gloss ink, which would give a glossy look to the parts of the cover it's applied to. This is not the same as a UV gloss laminate, which we had experimented with in the past on some of Telos' books printed in India, with variable results, but a fifth run of ink. To achieve this, I had to supply a mask for the whole cover showing which parts should have the ink applied. Strangely this is more complicated than it sounds, but I managed it.
Thus the whole thing went off to print, with delivery set for the week before the exhibition opened. Now the waiting started! Along the way, Chris Achilleos reached out to me about my decision not to take part in the exhibition, and after discussing it with Chris, I agreed to loan some of my original pieces for display, in part as a favour to Chris, and in part as I now would have my book available again, and the Gallery had agreed to sell some!
The Sticker!
A friend called Matt Doe also got in touch. Matt is a dealer and collector of Who toys and so our interests intersect! Matt offered to produce a little sticker of the cover art from The Target Book to give to people who ordered it direct from Telos. It was a brilliant idea, and so we sorted that out ... thus we had a lovely little extra to say thanks to everyone who supported the book by pre-ordering it.
The books arrived yesterday (22nd April) and look totally brilliant. The printing quality is lovely - the original edition was a little dark in places on the printing, a feature I think of the heavier quality paper which was being used, and also of the Indian printing presses - and the cover with the matt and glossy areas is beautiful. I'm very happy.
I hope everyone who visits the Cartoon Gallery in London to see the original Target art will fall in love with it in the same way as it has captured me and so many others over the years. I hope people will be interested enough to want to get a copy of the book too!
The Target Book
Written by David J Howe with Tim Neal
Foreword by Terrance Dicks
176pp. Large format 22cm x 28cm hardback. Fully illustrated in full colour throughout.
ISBN 978-1-84583-114-1
Available from: http://www.telos.co.uk/product/the-target-book-hb-pre-order/
I was shocked when I realised that I'd not actually written and released a book since 2011, when my horror fiction collection talespinning came out from Telos. Time has a way of getting away from you ...
I have suggested a few titles to the BBC over the years, but unfortunately they seem to be running something of a closed shop at the moment, and anything coming in from 'outside' seems of no interest to them ... which is saddening ... but it also means that trying to do something good and cool with images and artwork is way out of the scope of an independent press - it all costs a lot to clear and to print, and then sales can be very hard to come by too - it's like a game of roulette ... you might succeed, but all the odds are all stacked against you.
Then, in May this year (which is 2015) I had an unexpected and massive heart attack, which brought me literally down to earth. I couldn't work, I couldn't really do much at all except recover. And that meant sitting around a lot and doing very little except watch television and watch the grass growing in the garden.
So, in an attempt to alleviate boredom, I decided to re-watch some Doctor Whos ... I started with Hartnell, and worked my way through the first season before getting a little restless ... there's not many monsters there you see, and the historicals have never been to my taste ... so I then skipped to all the available Troughtons and loved seeing those again ... and then I wondered whether to continue with Pertwee or move to something else.
I then considered that I had reviewed all the NuWho episodes from 2005 onwards on my Blog, and that here was a great opportunity to watch them all again, and to see if I agreed with what I had said at the time ... and what a great idea for a book! Something which looked at Who as it was transmitted, and then was re-evaluated based on a current viewing. So that's what I did.
Starting with 'Rose' with Christopher Eccleston, I re-watched them, in order, and took in some of the special mini-episodes as well if they seemed relevant to the overall television 'story' of the show.
It was fascinating to see how the series developed, year on year, with Doctors and Companions coming and going ... Interesting to see how the Soap Opera elements which were prevalent at the start, lessened, and how the story arc idea, strong at first, again lessened.
The first volume of reviews, which I decided to call Then and Now, goes up to the end of the David Tennant era, as that seemed to be a good cutting off point. Plus, the book was getting too long! The second volume will cover the Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi episodes ... and will be published at the very end of 2017, following Capaldi's final episode at Christmas.
I am currently up to the start of Peter Capaldi with my re-watch, and it's again been interesting to see overall what an impact Steven Moffat has had on the show during the Matt Smith years, with the narrative coherence slowly dropping away, and continuity, event and introspection taking the place of actual plot and adventure. Not that I see this as a good thing ... for me, the plot and 'adventures in time and space' and monsters have always been the prime focus of the show ... and the inner lives of the Doctor and his companions don't interest me ... but there you go.
I'm still enjoying the show, and like the occasional flashes of brilliance that it shows. I wish it could be more coherent and more consistent, but for that I suspect we need another sea change in the running of the show, bringing in fresh ideas and eyes to carry it forward.
For the moment, as I write this, we are in the middle of Capaldi's second season ... and I'm wondering if my opinions of these episodes will change between viewing them now, and then re-watching them in a few months time ... We shall see!
Then and Now Volume 1 is now available to order direct from me, so if you fancy a signed copy, then order direct!
Otherwise, unsigned copies of Then and Now Volume 1 can be bought from Amazon:
I should also have copies at various events I'm attending around the world ... so please come and catch me at one of them if you want a signed edition!
