Last week, as I may have mentioned, I went to see Doctor Who Live. That's Live as in A-Live, not as in Living. Doctor Who Live is very different from Doctor Who Live, obviously. Anyway, since this week contained only elements of me doing lots of writing and also going to a funeral, I have decided to blog further upon my activities during my Doctor Who visit. You don't want to sit around and read about me writing, do you, because that would mean me writing about writing and you reading about me writing and that might cause a sort of recursive explosion where we'd all wake up next Wednesday with our hair on backwards and absolutely no idea why we were clutching a stuffed donkey and a picture of Aberystwyth.
Yes, it's a lovely place. But wouldn't you always wonder?
Anyway. Where was I? Ah yes, Manchester. Manchester Evening News Arena to be precise. Where I, and hundreds of other youngsters, hyperventilated our way through the appearance of Cybermen, Scarecrows, Clockwork Men, Judoon and, with the hair standing up all over my body and giving me the look of a Bigfoot that's been through the wash, Daleks.
And while every faculty of reason within my brain is telling me that these are plastic things with a person inside them, pedalling like crazy, and the voice of a bald man with a ring modulator - the rest of me is screaming behind a metaphorical sofa. Cut me some slack here, you can't overcome 40 years of social conditioning by lying back and thinking of Nick Briggs with a throat mike...those buggers are scary. Okay, so the new ones do have something of the look of an old-fashioned Dalek wearing a backpack, and the primary colour choices of a five year old, but they are still scary.
And. Matt Smith! Embiggened! Leering down at us from a screen about fifty feet high and doing that gormless grinning thing!
Am slightly alarmed by this, because I assumed that we were seeing him and that he couldn't see us. Because if he could, I am going to have a lot of explaining to do regarding hand gestures...
And when we came out I was all overexcited and had to be taken to a hotel and calmed down for a bit. And I hadn't even eaten any Smarties or anything!
So, therein lies my discovery of the week. On the outside I'm..
while on the inside, I'm...
Only less cute, of course.
Flash Fiction: Saving Time - *This tiny story was inspired by an exercise set at Doncaster Writers' Group. The story had to include a man, a young girl, a mother, a bench, an ice crea...
19 hours ago