The Doctor And Thales – Part 1

Being a huge Whovian, I look for lots of way to sneak Doctor Who into my writing and daily life. I was handed a golden opportunity when, for the philosophy curriculum we were using, I was supposed to write a story using the philosopher we were currently studying. What better way to sneak the Doctor into a story! So, take a trip in the TARDIS with the Eleventh Doctor and my OC, Arley (also a Time Lord), to meet Thales, an ancient Greek philosopher!

“So, where are we going this time?” I asked, jumping up onto the platform where the controls of the TARDIS were. Amy and Rory were gone for a week, leaving just the Doctor and me.

“Two Time Lords, one TARDIS, and all of time and space,” the Doctor flicked a lever. “Where do you want to go? The future, the past?”

“The past,” I told him, pressing one of the blue buttons he’d forgotten. “Let’s go somewhere ancient.”

“You want ancient? How about the beginning of Carsus?” The Doctor’s hand was on the lever.

“Naaaa…too ancient,” I told him. “How about…” I looked down at a book Amy had left on the floor of the TARDIS. “Rome?”

“Wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey. The timeline is way to wibbly. Pompeii with Donna…you remember? And you know…Rory the Roman?”

I had to admit he was right. “Fine. Greece?”

“Greece it is! There’s a lovely solar eclipse in 585!” He yanked the lever. The TARDIS groaned and shook.

“Did you forget the stabilizers again?” I hollered.

“Who are you, River Song? Of course I didn’t!” he shouted back.

I found the blue stabilizers and pressed them down. The TARDIS was instantly quiet.

“See? I told you I didn’t forget the stabilizers!” he said, tapping my nose as he walked by.

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to mention it’d been me who’d turned them on.

“I’ve a friend in ancient Greece you know. His name’s Thales! Great guy, a little distracted.” The Doctor skipped down the steps and under the platform of the TARDIS.

I sat on the edge and watched him. “Thales? Isn’t he the Greek guy who said ‘Know thyself’ or something like that?”

“Yes, he did. Well, actually I said that, and he shamelessly stole it,” he assured me. The TARDIS suddenly jolted to a halt. “There’s your beautiful Greece! Lovely view. Parked the TARDIS right by the Halys River.”

I skipped over to the door, opened it, expecting lovely river views. Instead, I got a battlefield. I slammed the TARDIS door shut just as a large spear went splintering into the side.

The Doctor looked up. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

I moved out of the way. “You landed us in the middle of a war!”

“Sorry ‘bout that. We should be off in a min- ”

Just then the doors opened again, and in stumbled a man. He tripped over the door frame and papers went everywhere, causing me to jump backwards.

The Doctor looked down. “Hello, there, Thales, my old friend!”

Thales looked up. Splinters of blue wood were stuck in his large curly beard. “Doctor?”

Part 2 is next week. Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

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Fan Art

You all know how much I love to write fanfiction. I’ve posted a few of my fanfictions for Owl City, Doctor Who, and The Hobbit on my blog. Well, I also enjoy drawing my favorite characters! Today I’m sharing a few of my fan drawings!

This is the Eleventh Doctor played by Matt Smith from the episode A Nightmare in Silver. In this episode, the Doctor is in the process of being turned into a Cyberman, a human in a robotic suit with no emotions. I loved the way he looked with all the wires on his face and his creepy cyberman grin, so I drew it!

Nightmare in Silver version of the Eleventh Doctor

A Nightmare in Silver version of the Eleventh Doctor

This is Rose Tyler as the Bad Wolf/The Moment from The Day of the Doctor, Doctor Who’s 50th anniversary special. Rose is one of my favorite companions, and I loved her as the Bad Wolf.

Bad Wolf girl

Bad Wolf girl

So, maybe I’m a little older than the intended audience for Disney’s Frozen, but hey, I like the music, and Elsa is pretty awesome. I love drawing her and her sister, Anna, so I did matching drawings of them.

20150118_213047

Anna

Elsa

Elsa

I mentioned a few months ago that I read The Hunger Games books and watched the movies for the first time. For my first Hunger Games fan drawing, I wanted to do a cartoon version of Effie. I never get to use bright colors like she wears or draw in that heavy of makeup, so this was really fun to color in!

Effie Trinket

Effie Trinket

My very favorite character from The Hunger Games is Finnick Odair. He’s a complicated character, and through most of the books, I just wanted to make everything better for him! I’m still not over the ending. Anyway, here’s my drawing of him from Catching Fire!

Finnick Odair

Finnick Odair

This isn’t actually a drawing. However, this was too cute not to share. I made my own baby Groot from Guardians of the Galaxy. I saw the movie and loved it, especially baby Groot dancing at the end. I knew I needed to have my own baby Groot for my desk, so I made my own out of polymer clay. 🙂

Baby Groot

Baby Groot

Do you do fanart or write fanfiction? Who are your favorite characters? Comment below and let me know!

Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

Four Tips For Fanfiction Character Writing

By now, all of my readers are well aware of my love of writing fanfiction. Not only is it really fun to explore and expand on someone else’s world, it also gives me the opportunity to try writing as characters and personalities I wouldn’t normally write. However, sometimes it’s not always easy to get the original characters sounding like themselves. So, today I’m sharing four tips of what I do to stay in character while writing fanfiction.

1. Actor Interviews

Actor interviews are great when trying to get inside a character’s head. They have literally been that character for months at a time, and they can often offer some great insights into how their characters think and act. Also, a lot of actors have great backstories they’ve made up about their characters that can give some ideas for future fanfictions.

2. Rewatching scenes/Rereading book lines

Whenever I start “losing my grip” on a character, I always rewatch a scene with them in it or reread their lines in the book. That helps to remind me how they talk and the gestures they make so that my fanfiction is more authentic. I do this a ton while writing Doctor Who fanfiction. The Doctor’s a complicated character and watching a clip of the show always helps me to refocus on who he is as a character and get the little quirks that make the Doctor the Doctor.

3. Use their actual lines as much as possible

Sometimes, it’s not easy to get a character sounding like themselves. I try to use the actual lines the character has spoken as much as possible. I try to be careful when I do this so that the lines aren’t awkwardly forced into a scene which never sounds good! However, if it fits in naturally, then I add it in. I wrote a Psych/Doctor Who crossover fanfiction, and to make Gus sound more like Gus, I included a bunch of his actual lines from the show. It really gave Gus his trademark sound and made it easier to recognize him as Gus.

4. Practice, practice, practice

Whenever I first start to write fanfiction for a series, the characters never sound exactly like themselves the first time around. It takes a lot of writing to finally get them to the point where they sound recognizable. So, even when I don’t get it right the first go-round, I know that with a bit more practice, the character will eventually get there!

Do you write fanfiction? If so, what do you do to make the characters sound authentic? Let me know in the comments below! 🙂

Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

The Silence – Part 5

This is the final part of my Doctor Who fanfiction about the Silence. Last week, Karen discovered it was the Silence that was following her, and Amy Pond told her to find the Doctor.

I turn back to the diary, my hands shaking. I take one more look around the room and, reassured for the moment that I am alone, search the few pages left for an answer.

The next thing I remember, I was walking back to my house with Anthony. The afternoon had been such a blur. I remember eating a muffin, saying good-bye to Mrs. Williams, and now I was here. Still, I felt like I was forgetting something. We arrived at my house, and Anthony gave me a smile and a wave, before turning to walk home.

“See you tomorrow,” I called.

“Bye!” Anthony called back as he rounded the corner.

Digging my door key out of my pocket, my fingers brushed a scrap of paper. I pulled the paper out and unfolded it. There were black marks all over the page and three simple words, “Find the Doctor.”

Suddenly, everything I’d forgotten came flooding back. Huddling on the floor with the Silence surrounding us in Anthony’s apartment, Mrs. William’s instructions, and my absolute terror. I unlocked the door and pushed it open, eager to get inside, though it wasn’t like the Silence couldn’t be in there, too.

I rushed into the living room, calling my parents. “Mother! Father?” I gripped the note in my hand and shouted for them again, but the only response was the echoing of my own voice. There was no sign of my parents, in fact, it was just like I’d left it this morning. Where are they? They’re usually home at this time.

Unsure of what to do, I unfolded the note again and smoothed the paper, rereading it, looking for direction. “Doctor who?” I asked out loud. “How am I supposed to find him? Who knows how many doctors there are in New York?”

I looked up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror and covered my mouth with my hand, a scream stuck in my throat. Tally marks covered every inch of my face. The Silence were here. I didn’t know what to do. Escape? Run? No, they’d just track me down again. What I needed to do was to remember. Mrs. Williams said they’d erase my memory of them. I’d write it all down. That way I couldn’t forget. I raced out of the living room and dashed up the stairs to my room. And that is where I am now. Writing down what happened to me. I don’t want to forget.

That’s where it ended. I look over the faded page. The rest of the page is filled with tally marks, once black but now turned grey with age. There has to be more. There has to be help. How did Karen escape? Desperately, I turn the page, and in my haste I rip it out of the book. Holding it up, scrawled across the page in big, black letters it says,

FIND THE DOCTOR. REMEMBER.

That can’t be it! That can’t be all there is! I pick up the diary again, clawing through the pages. What did I miss?! There has to be an answer! There has to be a way out. The pages bend back, revealing one more page in the diary. My fingers tremble as I yank it free from the binding.

THEY ARE HERE.

Tally marks make the page almost black, they’re so many of them.

“NO!” I shriek. My heart feels like it stops beating for a moment as I realize what that means. Karen never got free. Karen couldn’t escape. “NO!” I stand up, burying my face in my hands. There’s no way out. I’m trapped. I stand, facing the window, trying to collect my panicked thoughts enough to think of a plan.

My eyes catch sight of something moving behind me. I spin around, and there are the Silence. I don’t know how many. They stare at me with their hollow eyes sunk into their long gray faces. The Silence in front of me tilts his head as he raises a three fingered hand.

In that moment I remember my mom. Where was she? Why wasn’t she downstairs? Had they killed her? Trembling, I take a wobbly step backwards, trying to get away from the monsters. Poor Karen never had a chance to find the Doctor, and I don’t think I will either. My boots slip on the edge of the rug, and I twist, catching myself on the window sill.

“What was I doing?” I ask out loud. Sitting on the carpet, I rub my wrist that is aching and red. I don’t remember hitting it. I know I was frightened of something, but of what, I couldn’t remember. It was something about my mom, which is funny because she is downstairs, cleaning. I stand up, dusting myself off, turning towards the window. As I do, I catch sight of my face in the window. It’s covered with tally marks. And then I remember.

Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

The Silence – Part 4

Today I’m posting part 4 of my Doctor Who fanfiction about the Silence. Last week, Karen and Anthony were running away from whatever was following them. This week we find out what is following them and meet Anthony’s parents. I mentioned last week that Anthony is the adopted son of Amy and Rory Pond (Williams), the Eleventh Doctor’s companions. This week, Amy makes a guest appearance in my fanfiction. Those who watch the show know that Amy is typically referred to as Amy or Amelia Pond by the Doctor, but her married name is actually Amy Williams, which is how Karen knows her. 🙂

Our pounding feet on the metal stairs echoed through the apartment building’s hallway. We came to a halt outside Anthony’s front door. Pulling the key from his jean pocket, his fingers fumbled as he inserted the key into the lock and twisted it. We burst through the door and slammed it shut behind us with a loud bang.

“Is that you, Anthony?” called a voice.

“Mom, I’m home, and I brought Karen,” Anthony said as we walked into his warm, bright kitchen filled with the smell of baked muffins that Anthony’s mother was pulling out of the oven.

His mother turned around with a smile. “Karen, it’s always good to see you.” I smiled back despite my anxiety. Mrs. Williams was always so nice and had the prettiest smile and red hair. And I loved her Scottish accent.

“Karen has a question for you,” Anthony explained with an encouraging nod towards me.

I took a deep breath. “I think I’m being followed.”

“In fact, we were followed here, ” Anthony added.

Mrs. Williams stopped filling the muffin tin. “Followed? By whom?”

“I don’t know. There are gaps in my memory that I just don’t understand. I thought there was this shadow following me the other day.” I stopped for a moment, trying to gauge Mrs. Williams’s reaction. She didn’t say anything. “I know you must think I’m crazy,” I started to say.

“I’ve seen some strange things, kid. Trust me. I don’t think you’re crazy.” She leaned against the kitchen counter and pushed her flame colored hair back with her red painted nails.

“Mom, I found this on my hand. I don’t remember how it got here.” Anthony held out his hand towards Mrs. Williams.

What happened next was fuzzy. I remembered turning towards Anthony, about to ask him something, and then the next thing I knew, I was huddled on the kitchen floor with Mrs. Williams beside me and Anthony on the other side.

“What’s happening? Why am I here?” I asked, my head spinning. I looked over at Mrs. Williams and covered my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming. Her face and arms were covered with black lines. “What’s going on? What’s happened to you?”

Mrs. Williams looked down at her arms. “Listen to me, Karen. You haven’t got much time. There’s something out there called the Silence. They’re an alien race that controls humanity. When you look away from them, the memory of your encounter with them is erased. That’s what the gaps in your memory are from. The only way to remember that you’ve seen a Silence is to draw a tally mark on your arm for each one you encounter. They won’t hesitate to kill you if they perceive you as a threat. The only way to escape is to listen to me closely.” Mrs. Williams grabbed my arm. “Find a man called the Doctor. Tell him Amelia Pond sent you. Tell him the Silence are here. And tell him he better rescue us all.”

A scream shatters the stillness of the room. I look up from the diary, my heart pounding. I put the book down on the bed and stand up, the floor creaking slightly. It’s deathly silent in the house, and even though it’s not cold, I have goose bumps on my arms.

“Mom?” I ask, cautiously taking shaky steps down the first two or three stairs, but the only answer is my own voice echoing back. “Mom?” I call, a little louder this time. My answer is a loud banging, and the whistle of the wind. I wrap my arms around myself, climbing down the stairs, forcing my feet to move. The wind bangs the front door against the battered wall, the rain pouring in onto the floor. I slam the door shut and lock it tightly. The rain is running down into my eyes as I turn away from the door. I shut my eyes for a moment, drying my face off with the edge of my shirt. When I open my eyes, I’m not downstairs. My back is against the heavy wooden door to the bedroom, and the diary is open in my hands. “What happened? Where am I?” My head is spinning. I look down at the diary in my hands, and flinch, my heart starting to race again. My hands are covered in tally marks. The Silence. I’d seen Karen’s shadows. They are following me, too. I flip open the diary, the pages making a slight rustle as I turn them. There seems to be only one thing to do. Find out if Karen escaped and how, if possible, I can as well.

Thanks for reading! Part 5 will be up next week.

~ Kayla

The Silence – Part 3

Last Tuesday, I posted the second part of my Doctor Who fanfiction about the Silence. Bree had stopped reading Karen’s diary entry, realizing she was being followed, too. I mentioned last week that Karen’s name was a reference to the actress who plays Amy Pond. Well, I snuck in another reference to the show in the date of the diary entry. April 23 is the date that “The Impossible Astronaut,” the episode that introduced the Silence, first aired. There’s another reference, as well, to a deleted scene from the last episode the Ponds were in. Anthony was the name of the son the Ponds adopted, and in my story, he’s Karen’s best friend. Also Kaz, Anthony’s nickname for Karen, is the same as Matt Smith’s (Eleventh Doctor) nickname for Karen Gillan (Amy Pond).

April 23, 1960

Where do I begin? After I finally felt safe enough to come out last night, I went downstairs and saw my parents had come home. They didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong. I didn’t sleep much last night and could barely drag myself out of bed for school. I was terrified of walking to school all alone, where that shadow could find me and follow me there, too. I forced myself to do it, though. Some parts of it are very clear in my mind. My pounding heart, my feet hammering against the concrete, fearful of something, but not knowing of what. Most of that walk, however, is just gone, giant blank gaps in my memory. I do remember running into school, stopping by the door, out of breath, trying to remember why I was running and why I was so scared …

I forced myself to breathe normally as I stepped inside the school, pushing past the other students chatting by their lockers. “Anthony!” I called to a brown haired boy putting his extra books in his locker. He turned, hearing my shout, and gave me a wave. I scooted past a group of chattering girls to join Anthony.

He shut his locker door, locked it, and leaned against it. “Hello, Kaz.”

“Kaz” is the nickname he gave me years ago that he uses to drive me crazy. However, I wasn’t in the mood to play games today.

“Anthony, I need to talk to you. I need your help.”

The smile faded on Anthony’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something following me,” I told him in a low whisper, clutching at his arm. “I saw a shadow yesterday while I was walking home. I know it followed me. And the mirror. I saw something in the mirror, but I can’t remember what it was.” The words spilled out of my mouth, one on top of another.

Anthony didn’t say anything for a moment. “Are you sure?” he said slowly.

I nodded. “I know you must think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Anthony reassured. “Are you doing anything this afternoon?”

Confused, I shook my head. “I don’t think so, why?”

“I think you need to talk to my parents.” The bell cut our conversation off, and we hurried to our class. I slipped into the seat in front of his, and I felt something poke my arm. I looked down to see a folded paper. I grabbed it, unfolded it, and read the note to myself. “Meet me at my house after school. We’ll talk to my parents there.” Tucking the paper into my pocket, I felt like I could relax, at least a little bit.

I sat through school as best I could, jittery and nervous. When that last bell sounded, I was the first one out the door. I waited outside until Anthony walked up.

“You coming?” he asked, taking my books from me.

“Thanks,” I said as we walked along the street.

“Look, what my parents are going to tell you isn’t going to sound normal. You’re probably not even going to believe them,” Anthony warned.

“At this point, Anthony, I’ll believe anything,” I assured him.

I must have zoned out, because the next thing I remember was passing shop windows and being half-way to Anthony’s house.

“Quick walk,” I commented.

Anthony shrugged, not saying anything.

My eyes rested on the black marks on the back of his hand. “Hey, what’s on your hand?”

Anthony looked down. “It’s noth-” he stopped, staring at the black lines that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Karen,” he said slowly.

“Yes?” I asked, wondering why he sounded so nervous.

“Run,” he whispered, grabbing my hand.

Thanks for reading! Part 4 next week.

~ Kayla

The Silence – Part 2

Last week, I posted the first part of a Doctor Who fanfiction about the Silence. We left off just as Bree opened the diary she had found and read the first sentence from a girl named Karen Helms who claimed she was being followed. I chose the name Karen as a bit of an Easter egg. The actress who plays Amy Pond, the Eleventh Doctor’s companion who also meets the Silence, is named Karen Gillan. I decided it’d be fun to name my character after Ms. Gillan and make the subtle connection back to the show! 🙂

I don’t know by what, and I don’t know by whom. I just know there is someone – or something – following me. I feel like I should write everything down in case something happens to me. It’s a strange feeling, like there’s something over my shoulder, something always watching me. I can’t escape the feeling, even now, in my room, with the door locked.

It started today when I was walking down one of the back streets on my way home. I never use the main sidewalks, if I can help it, since they’re so crowded. It was wet and rainy, and I could see my reflection in the rainwater pooled in the dips of the black asphalt street. Only when I looked down did I realize there was more than just my face and the brick buildings reflected in those puddles. I stopped, staring at the rippling water. Behind, me there was a murky black shape, like a shadow. I looked up quickly, but there was no one there. Nothing was casting that shadow. I started to walk again, much more quickly, staring down into the puddles on the road. From broken reflection to broken reflection, I could see the shadow following me. My stomach twisted into knots as I dashed across the road, and stepped onto the busy New York City sidewalk, pushing through the crowds. I bumped into a few people, who shouted at me angrily, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away from whatever was behind me. I caught a glimpse of a puddle beside me, but there were too many shadows and reflections for me to tell if the shape was still following me. I jogged up the first couple steps to my front door, glancing over my shoulder quickly as I did so. There was nothing behind me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I inserted the key into the hole and twisted it, opened the door, and relocked it behind me. There. Now no shadows could get in.

I sat my textbooks down on the coffee table. As I did, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror hanging above the fireplace. Looking at the mirror, I had the strangest feeling, like there was something I’d forgotten. Something important, but I couldn’t remember what. I stepped closer to the mirror, putting my hand on the cool glass, trying to remember what I’d forgotten. Suddenly, my stomach twisted in fear, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I knew I had to get out of there, but I didn’t know why. Not even thinking about my decision, I raced up the stairs and flung open the door to my room, shutting it and locking it. I slid down onto the floor, the feeling of terror overwhelming me.

That’s where I am now. My back still against the solid wooden door, writing in this diary. I want to tell someone, but I’m afraid Mom and Dad will only think I’m being silly or playing a prank on them. Maybe I’ll tell Anthony tomorrow. Anthony is one of my closest friends. Most of the others avoid him since his family is …different. No one has ever forgotten the day in seventh grade when he proudly told the class that his parents once met a man from space. Of course, after today, I’d being willing to believe that.

The writing abruptly stops. I flip the page over and find another entry, but it doesn’t pick up where the previous page left off. I’m about to begin reading again, but then I realize my hands are gripping the edge of the book so tightly my knuckles are white. I can almost feel someone’s eyes on me as I sit here, the diary open in my lap. I can’t help but think of Karen as I glance behind me only to find nothing. I’m being followed.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for part 3 next week.

~Kayla

The Silence – Part 1

I’ve been taking a teen writing class at the library. Every month, I have a new writing prompt about which I’m supposed to write a short story. In October, the prompt was to write a spooky story. Well, one of the spookiest things I can think of is from Doctor Who. The Silence are one of the only Doctor Who monsters that I have been honest-to-goodness scared of. So, I knew my spooky story would have to be about the Silence. Today I’m sharing the first part of that story. I hope you aren’t too scared! 😉

My mom sits the supplies down on the floor and runs her fingers through her hair. “Where to begin?” she sighs.

I look around me at the peeling, ancient wallpaper, the beat up floor, and the cobweb filled curtains and wrinkle my nose at the musty smell. I can easily think of a dozen other things I would rather be doing on this Saturday afternoon than clean out my grandfather’s old house.

“Bree, can you start upstairs to see if there are any boxes we’ve missed?” Mom pulls on yellow rubber gloves. “I’m going to get started in the kitchen.”

“Sure.” The stairs squeak under my weight as I climb the grand staircase to the second floor. The house is being sold soon, and it’s our job to clean and fix it up before it’s put on the market. At the top of the stairs, I stop suddenly. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, my stomach clenches, my heart pounds. I happily visited my grandfather’s house many times in the past, but standing here now, I’m so scared it’s hard to even breathe. I can’t control the urge to look at what’s behind me. I slowly turn my head, glancing back, heart pounding. The only thing I see are the stairs spiraling down. I can’t shake the feeling that there is something behind me, though.

It’s nothing. Just this creepy old house, I tell myself. I’m probably just jumpy because of that scary sci-fi movie I watched last night. Mom always says I have too much imagination.

I can hear Mom’s voice in the kitchen, singing along to one of her favorite songs. My body relaxes, and I feel embarrassed at my reaction. I’m glad nobody saw me, I think. I walk forward, the floors creaking under my feet. The carpet under my brown boots is a faded red color and a style from a bygone age. Hand on the doorknob, I’m about to turn it, when I see a black shape out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head quickly, but there’s nothing there again.

“It’s just an old house. Nothing more. Nothing is living in here,” I tell myself under my breath, but my hands shake as I push the door open. I half expect something to jump out at me, but nothing does to my relief. It’s just a bedroom. I look around, examining the sagging floral wallpaper and the grimy carpet. The meager light from the rainy day makes the four poster bed’s shadows look like monsters climbing the walls. I run my hand over the dust-covered carved wood of the footboard, brushing some of the dirt off onto the floor. Someone must have already cleared this room, because there are no boxes in here. There’s only the bed and a small three drawer chest next to it.

Better check to make sure there’s nothing in there, I think. I kneel down on the floor, and my hands grip the delicate gold handles of the carved cherry wood nightstand, sliding open the first drawer. I reach my hand inside the dark hole, my fingertips brushing the smooth wood. There’s nothing in there. My hands move to the next drawer, and slowly slide it open. I reach my hand in again, and feel something slightly rough. I grip it and pull it out of the darkness to the light. It’s a little book. I run my hands over it, feeling the soft leather of the cover, examining the embossed flowers and birds. I carefully pull back the leather cover, revealing a faded, yellowed page. Like a delicate spider web, the swirly handwriting spirals across the page.

April 22, 1960

My name is Karen Helms. And I am being followed.

Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

Author Profile – Steven Moffat

If you watch Doctor Who or Sherlock or both, this name strikes fear into your heart and makes you run for the nearest tissue box. For those of you who don’t know, Steven Moffat is the head writer of Doctor Who and the co-creator of Sherlock, two of the BBC’s most popular shows. No matter how you feel about the characters he’s tossed off buildings and killed off (multiple times), Moffat is a fantastic writer. Most of my favorite Doctor Who episodes were written by this man, and I felt like it was time to learn more about him. Don’t worry, no characters were killed in the making of this post. 😉

Steven Moffat was born on November 18th in Scotland. He was a childhood fan of Doctor Who and an avid reader of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. Moffat said in an interview, “I never really had any other ambition and I was always very clear that I wanted to be a scriptwriter.” His first big writing break was when he became head writer on Press Gang. He went on to work on several comedies such as Joking Apart and Coupling. After Coupling was canceled, Moffat was offered a job writing for Doctor Who. “Blink,” a Doctor Who episode featuring the famous Weeping Angels, won several awards for Best Writer, Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form, and Best Screenwriter. Moffat went on to become the head writer of the show in 2008 and started working on Sherlock in 2009.

I found an interview from the BBC Writersroom where Steven Moffat talked about writing. I loved the interview. He had lots of great writing advice, and I enjoyed hearing about where and how he writes his amazing scripts! You can find that interview here.

I thought I’d include some of Moffat’s writing advice:

“Write. Write lots. Don’t ask for advice, just write. And read the kind of stuff you want to write, because that’s the only advice that matters. If it’s screenplays, read William Goldman’s – he know EVERYTHING.”

“No writer truly stays focused, all day, every day…. Two or three hours will pass and I’ll have done nothing: not even had a useful thought!”

“Just write. The big break is easy if you’re good enough. I hear people saying, ‘I’m desperate to write – I’ve written this script.’ And I want to say: ‘Why haven’t you written 50 scripts?’… You have to write all the time and not worry so much about going to the right parties or the contacts you have in the business – they’re completely irrelevant. And stop badgering people for advice because there almost is none – If you write a truly brilliant script, it will get on the telly.”

“Every writer writes about what they’ve personally been through, just because that’s what’s to hand. I don’t know if it’s an important rule of thumb – you should tell the story that most animates you.”

“No one is that self-assured when they’re writing, or that assured about their writing. There’s no experience worse than handing your script in, and waiting.”

Thanks for reading!

~ Kayla

 

The Doctor and Agatha Christie

On December 3, 1926 a Morris Cowley car was found by a lake near Guildford, England. Inside the car was an expired driver’s license and clothes. A £100 reward for the missing person was offered by the local newspaper. Finally, on December 14th, a Mrs. Teresa Neele from Cape Town was found at a spa hotel. Two doctors examined Mrs. Neele and diagnosed her with temporary amnesia. Mrs. Teresa Neele was, in fact, one of the most famous mystery writers of all time – Agatha Christie.

What really transpired on December 3, 1926 is still a mystery. Well, not if you happened to go back in time in a blue police box with a man named the Doctor.

I recently watched “The Unicorn and the Wasp,” an episode of the BBC’s popular show, Doctor Who. In the episode, for those who haven’t seen it, the Doctor and Donna, his companion, travel back in time and invite themselves to a dinner party at the Lady Eddison’s manor where Agatha Christie is visiting. The date is December 3, 1926. The party is soon ruined when a maid comes running out of the manor saying that someone has been murdered in the library. The Doctor, Donna, and Agatha Christie join together to solve the mystery of who the murderer is.

(River Song would like to step in and stop anyone planning on watching this episode from reading the next paragraph because it is filled with spoilers. So, skip the next paragraph if you’d like to avoid them. If not, well, read on, sweeties. 😉 )

The murderer is a huge alien wasp. According to the Doctor, this alien wasp is called a Vespiform and is connected to his human mother through a fire stone. Because his mother was reading a Christie novel when he realized his alien heritage, the alien is acting out the book’s plot. Feeling guilty, Agatha Christie takes the stone and, pursued by the giant wasp, drives her Morris Cowley car to the lake, followed by the Doctor and Donna. At the lake, Donna throws the fire stone, now linked to Christie, into the water. The alien wasp-thing follows it into the water and dies. This causes Christie to fall unconscious and lose her memory of the event. The Doctor uses the TARDIS to drop her off at the hotel where she is found eleven days later. The Doctor later shows Donna a copy of Agatha Christie’s Death in the Clouds in which she features a wasp. The two of them realize that Agatha still has fuzzy memories of the events.

After watching the episode, I wanted to know if Agatha Christie really disappeared. Was any of this true or was it just some science fiction imaginings? She really did disappear on December 3, 1926, and her car was found by the lake. She was not found for 11 days, and she couldn’t remember what happened. The real mystery is why she disappeared. Some say that Christie was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She was depressed about her books, her husband was in love with another woman, and her mother had died. Another theory is that her disappearance was a stunt to save her marriage or to increase book sales. Of course, others (such as time-travelling aliens) seem to believe it had something to do a wasp. 😉 I also wondered if Agatha Christie really wrote a story about a wasp like the Doctor said. Death in the Clouds is a real Agatha Christie novel in which a wasp is originally believed to have killed a rich French moneylender.

Thanks for reading and Allons-y!

~ Kayla