08 November 2009

The Fantasically Lazy Photo Post (updated with review link 9/11/09)

I love Wes Anderson's movies, and I love the way that his attention to detail expands out of the films, and into the merchandise. I picked up the Fantastic Mr Fox soundtrack CD today, and the cover is straightforward enough:















Open it up though, and the CD itself is imprinted with one of Mr Fox's newspaper columns:















Take the CD out, and underneath you get this, which is a laugh out loud reminder of one of the film's running gags.
















Beautifully done. Anderson and co are very, very precise in the music for these films (the sleeve notes discuss the genres they went through before they hit the mix of songs for the film), and the packaging echoes that same care and love.

Mark

PS: Oh yeah, and here's a review of the film.

04 November 2009

Hey Kids! Comics! (updated 6/11/09)

OK, maybe not kids, considering the first couple I've reviewed are mature readers titles...

Anyway, as previously mentioned while I was up in London I picked up a mighty backlog of comics, and to mark that occasion I'm spending this week reviewing a few titles that we should have covered on Shiny Shelf aaaages ago. Here they are (I'm lazy and just updating this post with the others as the week goes on):


Criminal: The Sinners
The Unwritten

Wednesday Comics (added 5/11/09)
Detective Comics (added 6/11/09)

Looking back at these, they're both rave reviews - perhaps a side-effect of the fact that, with me cutting back my spending, I'm not taking as many risks on purchases as I used to. Hmmm... will try to pick something less absolutely outstanding for tomorrow, before this turns into a total fawnfest. (I did - see Wednesday Comics review!)

Meanwhile... I'm not nanowrimo-ing. While I kind of like the idea, various reasons have conspired to mean I couldn't start on time, and it would be foolish to throw a whole month of my career break into a single project like this. However, I am seeing how far I can use the nano ethos to get as many words as I can down for an existing project, so we'll see how well I do with that over the month... even if I don't get anywhere near 50,000, even 10,000 words of rough draft would be a decent start.

Mark

* Criminal artwork nicked from Sean Phillips' blog, which is well worth RSSing to for the regular art he posts. However, work viewers beware, there is quite a bit of nudity and horror in his work...

03 November 2009

Channel 666


Stuart Douglas of Obverse Books has now posted the story titles for The Panda Book of Horror, including my own Channel 666. Stuart told me it was going to be the last story in the book while I was rewriting, so arrrrggghhh no pressure there. On the plus side, I do actually like writing endings, so it wasn't too bad.

"What is the mystery of the mysteriously mysterious Channel 666?" as all those old Who book blurbs used to repetitively ask (and probably still do, come to think of it). Well, buy the book in December, and you might find out (although as this is Iris, you may very well not...).

Mark

01 November 2009

Been There, Got The T-Shirts

It's been a busy few days. After a brief trip up North, I'm back in London to get some important stuff done: to collect my accumulated comics from Gosh! (which means I've just had the delayed horror of Philip Tan's art on his second issue of Batman and Robin, a week or so after everyone else has recovered from the trauma); to discuss how to overhaul Shiny Shelf with webmeister Jon de Burgh Miller; and, most importantly of all, to attend this year's Eurogamer Expo.

The photo here is of one of the queues for the Brink developer session. Pleasantly, bar the queue to get in first thing, this was the only major queue we encountered all day, with short lines for most of the games (lines made bearable by getting a chance to see the title you were waiting for in action). As a consumer show, the Expo was notable for it's excellent crowd control, keeping attendees moving and making sure everyone got to see what they wanted to see with minimal misery. The venue was a good one, easy to navigate with good facilities, with a lot to see across all three floors.

Brink first. This 'developer session' from Splash Damage was more of a hands-off demo than any kind of insight into the development process, but was promising nonetheless. After Borderlands (which is likely to keep us occupied for months to come), myself and my associates are very open to co-operative shooters with RPG elements, and this seems another variation on that theme, but with some very neat little systems - flexible classes, missions you can pick and switch mid-session - and a (relatively) novel environment which can best be described as Bioshock's faded aquatic utopia translated into the clean futuristic palette of Crackdown. There are plenty of unanswered questions about Brink, and a lot of development time left in which to answer them, but I was cautiously impressed. Oh, and I have a lot of time for Paul Wedgwood's admirable giggling every time he executed a kill.

The Brink session also yielded one of my two free t-shirts of the day (even though I don't really wear t-shirts), the other being a prized Left 4 Dead 2 shirt. L4D2 was probably the longest wait we had for a hands-on game, but was well worth it, eight consoles running a single game of Versus in the new Scavenge mode, where survivors need to keep gathering resources while the special infected try to stop them. Although I got murdered - I've never been hot on Versus, and couldn't be bothered to go into options and invert the Y-axis so I kept looking in the wrong direction - the sequel is a lot of fun to play, and the innovations are well worth it being a new title. The Louisiana atmosphere is palpable, the production values as good as ever, and the new Specials are suitably game-changing. Favourite so far - the Jockey, who jumps on survivors backs and squeals a lot. L4D2 looks like building on it's predecessor, and as that was pretty much the funnest thing ever...

What else?

Well, I didn't get time with Assassin's Creed 2, as attendees were getting quite long sessions with it (all hand held by vigilant Ubihandlers, who were explaining the control system in great detail), but it looked pretty good, although sadly everyone playing was busy fighting and stabbing rather than doing what I'm looking forward to, which is running and jumping across the rooftops of renaissance Italy.

The Saboteur seemed like a solid third-person actioner with the slightly clunky controls we've come to expect from GTA. The black and white aesthetic looks nice, but the section that was playable seemed pretty linear. I'm a little dubious about the constant World War II exploitation in games, but I did like lead character Sean Devlin's habit of shouting 'shite!' whenever the player fucks up. One to watch, possibly - could be great if it delivers a fairly open WWII experience, could be not if you're corralled down a set path.

Dark Void was one that most of us were keen to play, and while I had Y-axis issues again, its combination of Resident Evil 4 style third-person gunplay, rocket pack flight and vertical hop climbing (where you use your jetpack to hop and grab ledges, using them for cover on the way) feels like a winner, with a bit of practice. There's a lot going on in this, but it definitely has the Capcom magic touch.

After playing an on-the-ground section of Dark Void, I turned around and found Mr Barry Nugent from Geek Syndicate and (more relevantly) The Next Level behind me. Barry introduced me to his fellow Next Level host Amaechi, but sadly I didn't see the guys again all day. Good to see them though, and their 'cast is highly recommended.

Pushed in all our faces whether we liked it or not was Avatar, the game of the James Cameron film. While the 3-D display was impressive, the number of demopods for this bloody thing was way, way out of proportion for the level of interest. It'll be interesting to see whether this marketing onslaught has an effect. From a distance, it looked a lot like a generic space shooter, but there could be a good game in there, I suppose? It'll take a lot to get me past my Cameron aversion, though.

OK, some other quick impressions before I wrap up: Bayonetta is as completely bonkers as you'd expect; Saw: The Videogame is equally what you'd expect, i.e. a clunky Silent Hill clone; Wheelspin on the Wii is graphically crude but could provide some multiplayer fun if you're up for a straightforward racer on that console; Heavy Rain looks like a rather ponderous movie that forces you to play 'Simon Says' throughout; and God of War III is more of the flashy, spectacular same, but if they continue to use those QTE finishes they can sod right off.

The Eurogamer Expo is a great idea, well executed by the team behind the show, and I hope it continues on an annual basis. It's a fun, inexpensive afternoon and a great chance to get some hands on time with forthcoming titles. Well worth attending.

Mark

27 October 2009

My Kingsmill Confession, by Alfred Kingsmill, 1772-1784.

"My name is Alfred Kingsmill and I did once steal a loaf of bread and the judge he did have me hanged. Now my family own a big bakery, and I haunt the place and do a ghostly shit in each loaf. And that is my Kingsmill confession."

---

(I suspect this isn't what they were looking for.)

24 October 2009

Open and Closed: Two games

I'm going to lend my copy of Arkham Asylum to a friend, partly to be nice, partly to alleviate the burden on groaning game shelves, but mainly just to get the bloody thing out of my house. Completing the story mode was a joy, tracking down all the secrets was a bit of a grind but deeply rewarding, but the challenges... oh, the challenges! I've got a few, but eventually hit the limit of what I could physically do. One trophy short of the Bronze Achievement for combat challenges, I found that last trophy an unattainable goal, but nonetheless spent an age trying to somehow push myself to manage it. Essentially, I was throwing myself against a wall repeatedly, rather than turning around, opening the door on the other side of the room and just walking away.

I've walked away now. The game is in my suitcase, ready to be handed over. I'm comfortable on being at 89% completion of the game forevermore.

Since then, two games have stepped forward to alleviate my urge for another round of batmasochism: Mirror's Edge and Borderlands. One is open, another closed, but not in that order.

Closed first: Mirror's Edge is a bleached-out sorbet of a game compared to the immersive world of secrets, characters, treasures and upgrades that was Arkham. It's essentially an obstacle course - run, jump, grab your way across rooftops, through warehouses etc, following a set route and try, try, trying again whenever you mistime a jump or are sufficiently tardy to catch one too many bullets from those pesky future cops. The sense of scale and the super-clean futuristic aesthetic is, at its best, breathtaking.

But Mirror's Edge is a great engine in search of a better game. Its big innovation, first-person platforming, works like a dream, with a real sense of motion and agility. But there's no exploration, just following set paths, and the story and combat built around it are at best unappealing and at worst downright annoying.

The plot (spoilers ahead) sees you as tastefully black-tattooed 'runner' Faith, one of a group of anarchistic parkour couriers developing messages of freedom (or something) in the face of opposition from The Man (or something). About two thirds of the way through, it's revealed that the big secret plot involves wiping out the runners, and seemingly replacing them with evil Ninja Cops.

Given the choice between being a counterculture cliche and glorified bicycle messenger defending my charmless peers, or a fucking Ninja Cop who gets to run around kicking the runners off roof tops, I want to switch sides right now. The Devil may have the best tunes, but The Corporate Man has the best career choices.

Also, while the mechanics for movement work like a charm, the combat controls work like a three-wheeled shopping trolley. Slow-motion disarms are fun when you can use them, but direct confrontations when required by the plot are an absolute arsepain of cranky, three button punch-ups where the controls seem to be context sensitive in some deeply unclear way.

Mirror's Edge is fun when you're running free in your free running, and after putting serious effort put into being Batman it's a fun change to play a game where you just repeat the same twitches until you get them right. It's also a fairly short game, not taking too many play sessions to get to the last couple of chapters (if I don't complete it in the next two days, it's because I've given up out of frustration). But such fun platforming deserves a better game around it, and a less po-faced and charmless IP.

After that little distraction, I'm in the market for a deeper experience, and I've just started one. So far I've only played a few hours of Borderlands, and only in single player, but it's living up to its 'Role Playing Shooter' tag so far. If you hadn't guessed, this is the 'open' of the two games: you're thrown out into the world and, while there are barriers to be overcome, the way you get around to taking missions, gathering XP and opening up the gameworld is largely left to you.

First impressions are, loosely, of a cartoon Fallout3 with less depth but proper first-person-shooting. The cel-shaded graphics don't take a drop of atmosphere away from the brooding expanses and crumbling shanty towns of Pandora, and there's a mischievous, childish sense of humour at work for anyone who found Fallout3 too bloody grim. I'm only a few levels up, I've ground some skags (the game's alien equivalent of all those giant rats in fantasy RPGs), taken out the first major baddie and have yet to go online for some co-op. If the co-op is all it has been promised - and the initial reviews are good - then Borderlands should prove to be good immersive fun for the next few months.

Except for when we have to abandon it to pile into Left4Dead2, of course. But that's another story...

Mark

21 October 2009

Pandamonium

Stuart Douglas of Obverse Books has posted the list of authors for their next Iris Wildthyme short story collection, The Panda Book of Horror (actual cover art not shown on the left*)...

... and there's my name, sandwiched between Dr Magrs and Mr Michalowski (no tittering at the back, you lot) at the top of the list.

It's a pleasure to be there (stop it). With Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus, Obverse put out a highly professional and entertaining first book, one which allowed authors familiar from, ahem, other time-and-space travel related franchises to cut loose creatively, presenting a diverse selection of stories, each with a distinct authorial voice, brought together by Iris Wildthyme's genre-defying escapades.

Oh, and my wife wrote one of the stories. So you should definitely go back and buy it if you haven't already.

I can't remember who told me that the second Iris book was going to be the Panda Book of Horror, but after they had the idea of a collection of horror stories in the Obverse then sat at the back of my mind for a few days, lingering. The horror, the horror, the horror...

Then, while walking back from work one day (and bear in mind I lived ten minutes from the office at the time so it wasn't exactly a long walk), an idea came to me, or rather a couple of ideas and how they would fit together within the sensibility of the Iris stories: a horror sub-genre with distinct conventions, which I gleefully considered to be so far outside of the usual scope of the Iris stories as to be positively perverse; and the plot device and setting which would give it the appropriate British, whimsical twist.

I'm pleased with how smoothly the idea assembled itself in my head, and the story as written is pretty much scene-for-scene what I first envisaged. It's my first horror story, and it does feel like I managed to dredge a lot of unpleasant imagery fully-formed, from the depths of my psyche straight to the page.

Should I be proud of that? Hmmm.

Anyway, you can judge my psyche when The Panda Book of Horror comes out this November. If you somehow missed the links at the top of this entry, then you can pre-order the book here.

Mark

* Image brazenly stolen from here, by the way. Follow the link to read the whole terrifying comic strip!

20 October 2009

I Love the BBC


After writing one red-mist topical screed here on Saturday, I've now written another for Shiny Shelf, this time regarding the constant snivelling attacks on the BBC by various Tories, Murdochs, and other predators.

As with the journalism piece, I welcome any feedback. I scrawl these things out in a frenzy, and welcome any chance to correct any ambiguities or nonsenses that have slipped in via sloppy wording on my part.

Mark

17 October 2009

Dead Inside

What is the problem with journalism? Is it falling literacy, lower circulations, the threat of the internet, cuts in budgets leading to poor fact-checking and lower standards?

Or is it attitudes from insiders like this piece on the Jan Moir fuss, from Fleet Street Blues?

Moir or less

Let us simplify the narrative a little:

1. Stephen Gately dies
2. Jan Moir writes an article published by the Daily Mail, strongly implying that he died not of natural causes, but from some abstract moral crisis caused by his gay-civil-partnership lifestyle.
3. The internet explodes in outrage as this repellant little tirade, and floods the PCC with complaints.
4. The odd dissenting voice says don't blame Moir, blame her editors, because she was working within the editorial guidelines and ethos of the Mail.
5. Fleet Street Blues says its all OK, because Moir doesn't necessarily believe what she writes, she's a professional working for the Daily Mail, a professional publication that very successfully targets its audience.

Those last two points seem to me to be promoting a number of false defences that I've seen doing the rounds recently, usually when there's a vitriolic online response to a disgraceful tabloid piece, such as the piece about Dunblane survivors that ran in the Scottish Sunday Express earlier this year.

The cases for the defence

The intertwining arguments in defence of the offending hacks and their paymaster seem to go something like this:

1. Journalists working within an editorial regime cannot be held responsible for their involvement in stories that offend wider moral sensibilities, providing they did so within industry-accepted journalistic standards.
2. Providing all concerned - journalists, editors, publishers - act within the law and within those internally accepted industry standards, its all OK, and they should not receive any negative flak from online whiners about their work.
3. Don't blame us for giving the public what they want, if they pay for it, then its fair game.
4. It's one, entirely acceptable, thing for journalists to intrude and insinuate on the grief and personal affairs of others, but any attempts to mock, insult or otherwise deride those who churn out such stories is shameful bullying of professionals doing their jobs.

Now, there's a lot to unpick in there, but it seems that there are some basic presumptions underlying these defences that are worth challenging.

The basis for the defence

1. That the practice of journalism is virtuous, or at least morally neutral, regardless of what political or moral purpose the fruits of that journalistic activity are used for.
2. That it's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and it would be unreasonable to expect people to stop taking the pay cheques and walk out just because their employer is involving them in something they know is wrong.
3. That if there is a demand for a product, it is always OK to fulfil that demand.

I would humbly suggest, from my outsider's perspective, that these three presumptions are Wrong, Wrong and Wrong, in that or any other order you like. I'll rebut them separately.

Firstly:

Journalism is not an inherently moral activity, and accepted journalistic ethics are not a moral gold standard

We all know the platonic ideal of a free press, bringing truth to light and exposing injustice to the light of day. Informing, educating, presenting arguments - these are all good things that journalism can do. We wouldn't want to live without them.

However, the fact that journalism can do all these good things does not make it an infallible engine for good. The freedom of the press is worth defending, but that does not mean that the press shouldn't prove to the rest of us that it is worthy of that defence.

And, while codes of practice and ethics are all well and good, the industry's own view of these is not infallible either. Something can be 'best practice' in journalism terms and still not morally acceptable to the rest of us. Acting within the 'rules' of journalism does not absolve you of the requirement to act within the framework of basic human decency, or to throw aside any consideration of what is factually correct.

Put it this way - we would all agree that being a doctor or nurse, devoting yourself to helping others get better, or at least manage their intractable illnesses or conditions as best they can, is a good thing. This does not mean that every doctor, every nurse, every hospital is inherently good.

Equally, being a journalist, being professional to the standards set by your peers, is not good enough if you are using those highly professional skills in the service of distortion and disinformation, or to attack people through misrepresentation.

"I'm just following orders" is not a good defence, right?

If there's a scandal in the public services, journalists are always eager to find someone to blame. It was the Minister! It was the Head of Services! It was this civil servant, that manager, SACK HIM, SACK HIM, SACK HIM! Didn't he/she know what they were doing was wrong? If they couldn't do the job, they should quit.

In the eyes of the press, the rest of us are always culpable for our own actions, and for what we let go on around us. No-one ever wriggled out of a headline grabbing scandal by shrugging their shoulders and saying "What did you expect me to do, resign? Who would pay me then?"

In all this talk of responsibility, you'd think that journalists themselves would be required to look to their own consciences, right?

Wrong, according to Fleet Street Blues:

"The Daily Mail's line isn't one its journalists always personally believe in, but they're pros, and how many of us can honestly say we've never written a story with an angle we didn't personally support? Journalists are mercenaries, after all."

Lovely. This seems to partially hark back to my previous point, in that the presumption that it's OK to be a mercenary presumes there's some worth in being a journalist regardless of the moral context of your work. But it also seems to suggest that journalism is a tough world where assignments are hard to find, and it's tough to find paying work, and therefore it's OK to chase the cheques.

No. People quit their jobs on matters of principle, or are sacked or steadily 'let go' because they refuse to tow a line they believe is wrong every fucking day in this world. People also change their career paths, work in different areas, shift priorities and do different things. We get sick of the way things are done, so we go to another firm, or find another line of work altogether.

Not everyone does, but plenty do. And when those who see bad practice around them blow the whistle, and lift the lid on corruption or mismanagement that threatens the public good, that benefits journalism. Good journalism. How many good stories, important ones, come from people risking their own positions because they believe their superior's activities, or the secret reports that pass their desk, are wrong and that the public should know?

If all those Whitehall sources covered their own arses, considered themselves to be doing a job to a professional standard, and ignored everything they thought the public should know, the papers would have nothing to run but official lines.

Is it too much to ask that journalists apply the same standards to themselves? That if they are writing or editing material that they consider to be hateful, untrue, pandering to base prejudice at the expense of anything verifiable, that they quit? Even if (shock, horror) that means that they can't work in the media any more, and have to go do something else?

Apparently so. Because journalism is a calling, apparently. Regardless of how bad it is.

Just because people are willing to pay for it doesn't mean you should sell it to them.

Crack. Smack. Bootlegged videos of executions. Nasty, nasty types of pornography. Racist material that tells you that you and yours are the only real people and that they, they who seem to have all the luck, are just animals and not people at all. Illegal firearms to 'defend yourself'.

There's a market for everything. There are plenty of things that people would buy by the shitload that we, as a society, have decided they shouldn't be sold, for very good reasons.

It seems the simplest thing of all, then, to refute FSB's claim that the Daily Mail is OK because it reflects a lot of people's views, regardless of how repellent those views might be, even if everyone from the editor to the journos to the print workers might disagree with every word.

No, it isn't. Feeding people's bile to them is not just satisfying demand, it is not a neutral or positive activity. By repeating prejudices, especially by actively ignoring the medical evidence in favour of a half-baked 'moral' position, as Moir did, you are reinforcing those prejudices through agreement. By putting those opinions in WH Smiths, Tescos, and every corner newsagent you are saying 'it is OK to think this'. You are fostering a climate where our worst instincts are not suppressed, or driven into the naughty corner, but held proud as legitimate, authoritative positions.

This is just my opinion

And if you think I'm wrong, fine. That's a matter of conscience, and I may think you're completely wrong, but that's OK. That's freedom of speech. If someone believes the kind of thing that the Mail or the Express publish, loves working on it, and believe that they're putting out a paper that tells truth to power then, although I disagree with them, they're at least acting using the tools of journalism for the purposes of something good, albeit only in their eyes and definitely not in mine.

But if those tabloid journos agree with me, if they disagree with prejudice such as this, if they believe that the tabloids peddle distortions and bigotry and hateful nonsense, and yet they participate in the process of writing and publishing those words, then I don't think they're doing good work, I think they're betraying themselves and their own principles for selfish, careerist reasons.

And you know what? I don't care whether they hit their deadlines, or how little editing the subs need to do because they've written perfectly in the house style. I don't care whether they're professional to their own industry standards.

This isn't some kind of highly tuned philosophical argument. I'm sure that, should anyone bother to read this, they will be able to pick apart my arguments from a million different directions. I'm not a trained journalist, I'm a fiction writer who has done a few reviews.

What I will say is this, and would ask this one question to whoever may pick nits in all of the above -

Is it right to do something you believe is wrong for the money?

Mark

Edited to take out hilarious write/right freudian slip in that last line.

16 October 2009

A Public History of Secret Histories (2)

Yesterday I wrote, in maddeningly-opaque-spoiler-free fashion, about the general ideas behind Secret Histories and what kind of book I wanted it to be. Today, a little bit about how, knowing what book I wanted, I arrived at the stories and authors in the book.

Putting together a book is like bringing together a team to do any big job - even though the authors wouldn't be working with each other, they bring different contributions to the whole.

Firstly, I knew there were a list of people who, should I ask and should they accept, would deliver good stories to length and deadline and to whatever specifications I tossed their way, who were also popular, critically acclaimed authors of Who and related stuff in their own right who could write Benny and co in character and continuity without any real guidance. Basically, the absolute pros. They would provide the core of the book, and allow me to take a few risks on my other commissions, knowing that I had a handful of good stories in the bank that would need limited editorial input.

Having been around the Who writing block for a decade, I was in the useful (albeit frankly tragic) position of having a social circle rammed with writers for the Who books, Benny range etc. As this was my first book as editor, I also had the newbie's luxury of pulling in a few favours, knowing that my friends would want to help me out on my first collection. However, I didn't want to press gang in anyone who genuinely didn't want to do the book, so my invite was pretty open and clear that I was happy to be turned down - you don't get good stories out of people who aren't creatively inspired by what they're doing, after all.

In the end, a few people did turn me down politely, mainly on the grounds that they didn't feel they had anything to say with the Bennyverse, or were concentrating on other creative avenues.

However, I did get a good stable of great writers with good track records to provide the spine of the book - Lance Parkin, who has been a friend of mine since around the time he was pitching Just War and whose vision of Benny overlaps with mine almost totally; Eddie Robson, at that time producer of the range and a fan of the character since the late 90s; Mark Michalowski, whose first Doctor Who book came out the same month as my first solo novel, Hope; and Nick Wallace, who had written two excellent Bernice Summerfield scripts in recent years as well as editing a well-reviewed short story collection, Collected Works.

With all four on board, that was more than half of the book in the bank. More, if you counted the framing sequence I was planning to write. That still left a substantial chunk of words still to commission.

I talked in the previous post about the New Adventures editorial ethos, and one of the best remembered parts of that was the commitment to new or less well-established writers. I knew from the start any short story collection I did was going to include writers that were perhaps less well-known than the names above, but who deserved wider exposure. A couple sprang to mind relatively early:

I've known Jim Smith since we were both at university in Central London, had flat-shared with him for absolutely ages, and (along with the aforementioned Eddie Robson and my Twilight of the Gods co-writer Jon de Burgh Miller) co-founded Shiny Shelf with him. Jim had recently penned The Adventure of the Diogenes Damsel, an audio where Bernice had teamed up with Mycroft Holmes (played by David Warner in full effect), and it had received a rapturous critical response from the fans. I'd liked it a lot, with the minor caveat that the plot didn't have room for us to actually see (or rather hear) Mycroft and Benny solve a mystery. I'd been reading a lot of Case Closed at the time, and so was very keen on the classic locked room mystery story.

So, in one of those cases where self interest (both in terms of what I wanted to read, and adding a good selling point to Secret Histories that would attract fan attention) and altruism (in terms of giving Jim a stage to show what he could do as a prose fiction writer) collide perfectly, I was determined to get Jim to write a new Mycroft and Benny story, the only stipulation being that they should solve a mystery. I'm glad to say that my hunch was right, and interest in this story so far has been high - interest which will be rewarded, as the final story is great.

Another writer I wanted to work with was Richard Freeman, who I'd met at one of Exeter University's Microcons, where he would give fascinating presentations on his career as a Fortean zoologist, travelling the world hunting for monsters. Richard has a voice and concerns that are different to the average Doctor Who fan writer - he's highly knowledgeable in regards to myths from around the world, and has a fine grasp of anthropological detail. Richard's contribution is completely different to most Bernice stories, and provides a fascinating insight into a long lost culture. It's also a tense adventure story, packed with vivid imagery. Richard is also, to the best of my knowledge, the only author in the book whose fee went into paying for an expedition to Sumatra.

Paul Farnsworth is one of my absolute favourite writers of Who fan fiction, from back when 'fan fiction' just meant stories written by fans, rather than outpourings of adolescent romantic fantasies. His contributions to zines like Matrix, Circus, Silver Carrier and others were smart, well-written, endlessly inventive and often laugh-out-loud funny. When I approached Paul, who I've never known personally, Secret Histories was high on historical and war stories, and low on punchy, funny, weird SF stuff. That was what I asked Paul to bring to the book. I wasn't to be disappointed.

Finally, I'd heard rumours on the grape vine that Stuart Douglas and Paul Magrs, who were editing Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus, had found someone great in their slush pile, a writer who had instantly stood out from the other submissions as a funny, clever new voice. As the Omnibus had yet to be published at the time, I shamelessly asked Stuart if I could take a look at this story as I was very interested in finding new, preferably slightly crazed voices for Secret Histories. Stuart kindly agreed, sending me Cody Schell's story of masked wrestling superheroes and killer pinatas, and I realised this was exactly the kind of bloody lunatic I wanted, a writer whose ideas were big, but who also wrote with charm and character.

While he was at it, Stuart also put me in touch with Jonathan Dennis, a writer who I had been aware of but whose work I'd never read. Having seen Jonathan's story for the Omnibus, I also approached him. My brief for both Cody and Jonathan was the same as it was for Paul - I wanted weird, alien shit. Cody and Jonathan both delivered stories that portray distinct alien cultures, each with a high concept that has character consequences for Benny. They're both very funny as well.

With that, the writing crew for Secret Histories was complete. I think it's a good mix - some familiar, popular contributors to the Bernice Summerfield range (all of whom who have also written acclaimed Doctor Who stories, which doesn't do any harm), and some distinct, newer voices who the Benny readership may not have heard of.

There's some war stories, some history, some anthropology, and a mystery. There's Earth, a weird part of deep space, and a few odd alien planets with their own interesting cultures.

There are adventures not just for Bernice, but for Adrian and Peter (one of my favourite characters in the range, by the way) too.

There's young Benny, Braxiatel Collection-era Benny, and some material that's set right between Secret Origins and whatever comes next.

(Although I hasten to add that you need to know absolutely no continuity to enjoy the book - all relationships and references are fully explained for the complete newbie, and both the book and individual stories stand alone.)

So please buy Secret Histories, either on its own or as part of the 2009 deal. The book is out in December this year, just in time for Christmas.

Ta!

Mark