Who Knew? Secret Confessions of an Unknown Whovian??

Have you ever had something grab you that you never expected? Has a story which you enjoyed but thought nothing of come back to your mind again and again until you actually find yourself sat there thinking about nothing but it? I have done this several times with many different novels but never really with a television program. Now I’ve never watched Dr Who, which is in total contrast to my eldest sister who is Queen Whovian, but last Saturday I was pretty bored so I turned onto the Dr Who 50th special called ‘Day of the Doctor.’ I have to admit, what I found shocked me. There was a pretty decent attempt at a story line in a Universe where anything could happen, not to mention there was my not very well concealed secret crush David Tennant 🙂    Nom!!! 🙂

The story began in what I imagine is a standard Dr Who beginning; the Doctor meets up with his companion, in this regeneration cycle it’s Clara Oswald, and they are whisked off to begin their Dr Who adventure. It was an interesting enough beginning but when you’re in love with David Tennants’ Doctor it’s hard to pay attention to anyone else (sorry Matt Smith 🙂 ). My attention was finally grabbed however when one point actually made me laugh…

Clara: “Some day you could just walk past a fez.”

Doctor: “Never going to happen…”

The episode then begins to flash between three different moments in the Doctors multiple lives; the present with Clara, his previous incarnation with Queen Elizabeth the First in 1562 England and an unknown Doctor with Rose Tyler (David Tennants’ Companion) on the last day of the Time Lord War. Now there had been a glimpse of this unknown Doctor in another episode and the present Doctor reacted that this was a life he forgot and never wanted to speak of. Immediately you think “whhhyyyyy???” but you are left guessing until it is revealed that the unknown Doctor plans to detonate a weapon to stop the Time Lord/Dalek war by killing and destroying everything on and around Gallifrey (the Time Lord Home World). The episode then throws the Doctors together and we realise that the story is actually about the unknown Doctor, who gets renamed as the War Doctor. It turns out the Rose he is accompanied by is actually the consciousness of ‘The Moment’ the weapon the War Doctor plans to use to destroy Gallifrey. Rose thrusts the War Doctor into the future to see the men he will become if he does decide to use the weapon. As Rose says “They’re you and what you will become if you destroy Gallifrey. The man who regrets and the man who forgets…” I think this is a very poignant line and is used very well to establish the different Doctors personalities and the effect choices can have on a life, or lives.

The episode continues after the dilemma in the present as both the future Doctor’s travel back to the War Doctors time in order to share the burden of guilt for destroying Gallifrey. They realise that sometimes there is no good option, that sometimes the many must be sacrificed to save the few. It’s not until they’re all together in this time that they realise there is three of them now and that if there could be three then there could be more. So the Doctor calls on all of his past lives to come and help save Gallifrey and store it frozen in a moment of time. Once it disappeared then the Daleks would destroy themselves and the Universe would assume that they destroyed each other. At this point we are treat to an almost nostalgic look at the eleven Doctors that appeared in the series through the use of old footage, though we are led to believe that they have taken moments from their own time lines to come and save Gallifrey. Even the Commander in the Time Lord War Room comments, “I didn’t know when I was well off… All twelve of them.” It’s then that a booming voice rings out “No sir, all thirteen.” This is an excellent touch which I would openly admit had me baffled for a while as I missed this on first viewing. I spent a while trying to comprehend who the thirteenth Doctor was and if they had indeed blanked out another of his previous lives; and then it occurred to me, they had included Peter Capaldi in the Doctor stew complete with his own Tardis. Peter Capaldi is set to be the next Doctor so not only had they included all of the Doctors previous incarnations but his future one as well…

…and so Gallifrey is saved and all the Doctors return to their respective times.

The episode, despite it’s jaunts in time, flows very smoothly and the confusion is kept to a minimum (until someone tries to describe it lol.) I really enjoyed the character development and the various aspects of humour, satire and grief used to portray the very nature of the characters. You can enjoy something that’s very well written in any form and I have to say this episode caught me just as well as any novel, not to mention I liked the little references to previous series’. The language use was well developed and the casting perfect. Even though it didn’t convert me I can understand why these series are so well loved throughout the ages.

I’ve tried not to add in too many spoilers but of course there’s no way to get around the fact that time bends and we have to deal with a whole multitude of Doctors. I believe this is why the episode has haunted me for so long. The idea of time travel fascinates me. What could be done if you could go back and change it? Or indeed go into the future and help out? It’s something I always wanted to add into my own writing but have feared it will turn out stereotypical and almost corny, not to mention confusing; to which I hope I haven’t confused anyone by trying to describe this episode lol 🙂

Thank you for giving me the chance to talk about this. Though I don’t think I’ve been converted to Whovianism I would like to thank the creators for giving me something to think of, maybe perhaps the confidence to include something like this in my own writing, and the chance to stare at David Tennant more lol 🙂


Threads by Dagda Publishing

I am thrilled to be able to finally do a proper review of Threads by the wonderful Dagda Publishers. It’s a collection of forty two contemporary poems which range in genre and stylistic type. The poets contained within are radiant in their genius and have a wonderful ability to create mini Worlds of almost artistic pleasure.

Within its pages lie so many unique aspects and view points that it is very possible that there is poetry in here for every keen eye. The back cover quite simply puts the view of the collection into an eloquent speech: ‘Threads of experience, memory and dreams all weave and intertwine to create snapshots of life and the human condition. An essential collection for all fans of the craft.’ To be honest although I am reviewing it myself I could not have described it better.

Several of the poems had me pausing and re reading them; some so that I could digest the meaning to a greater extent, some so that I could enjoy the pure pleasure of well written creativity and some so that I could discover a different meaning than I had originally thought possible.

A poem that caught my eye was the wonderfully entitled ‘Ode to a Fractal’ which was written by the excellent Dylan Otto Krider. I found it to be a short burst of creative genius which allowed an almost beautiful view of perhaps an almost underrated subject. I love that in a short space he has addressed the almost monotonous subject and turned it to the sublime. My favourite piece of the entirety has to be,

‘…you found patterns in a Universe,


and brought beauty to


Could there be a better way to describe finding beauty everywhere? Even the layout of the poem draws your attention to its significance; the single words placed on lines of their own seems to separate the subject from the beauty it creates. This is a wonderful example of poetry in motion.

Another of my favourites is the wonderful ‘Long-Lost Love’ written by Colin W CampbellFor me this poem was a short burst of both despair and thoughtfulness. I love the way it flows so well. Some who have read my posts may have heard me describing the flow of literary pieces, for me at least, must be like water. This poem seems to embody that and carefully creates the opposing views of the subject. You can almost feel the despair from the ‘Phantom from a far off place’ looking for that love which they cannot find; this to me has a literal and a figurative meaning. For the literal, we sense the loneliness of the soul and long to reach out to comfort it; for the figurative the phantom could symbolise any previous loves from our lives that we still have lingering regrets over. The message is clear; move on, be happy, there’s nothing left for you here. The thoughtfulness I mentioned seems to come from the voice of the poem, that aforementioned longing to reach out and provide comfort. I find it fascinating that in twelve lines the poet has managed to create astounding clarity in a World of such emotion. It’s wonderful to read.

My last example of wonder is the brilliantly entitled ‘The Sound Garden’ written by Ross McCooey. For this one I have to start off with an example of its creativity,

‘Sycamore leaves scab the ground

sodden and flaccid they lie

in coagulated messes of rain

surveyed by sullen skies…’

Tell me truthfully, how fabulous is that descriptive language? Throughout the poem we’re treated to such literary almost sinful description that you can’t help but feel like you’re rolling naked in the purest silk. This feeling ironically goes against the subject of the poem; we are treat to an imaginative view of negligence with the smallest ‘ray’ of hope appearing at the end. That’s not to say such wonderful description can’t be used for a dark subject; on the contrary we are given such vivid views through language use that you can’t help but be drawn there, into the poem. It’s a fantastic read.

Now the above is just a few examples of the wonder within this book that I myself picked out. However I would like to say that each and everyone is fantastic in its own way and should be celebrated on their own merits. I cannot say enough that this book is a must read for every literary enthusiast. It is so well created and from a fantastic publisher that has found its creative ground and will now only move ahead in its endeavours. Also, a wonderful twist to this fantastic book is that proceeds from sales go to the brilliant charity Shelter that helps those in need of homes and security. I am proud to say that I have already donated 🙂



… and within the book is some poem called ‘Echo’. It’s ok, read it if you like lol 🙂

The perils and pleasures of being an editor

Read this brilliant article 🙂 I have to admit I’ve never laughed out loud as much. This is an example of a great editor with a keen eye and a good view of what we should look out for as a writer for when we need help 🙂

Eagle-Eyed Editor

As a professional editor, I’m often asked to read someone else’s writing. I’ve edited people’s resumes, books, requests for proposals, news articles, press releases, short stories, newsletters and other written pieces.

Sometimes it’s easy. In some cases, all that’s needed is proofreading. I check over spelling, punctuation, grammar and other basics, marking up the work with a red pen or using MS Word’s editing feature.

But if someone’s work requires substantive editing….well, that’s a judgement call. Substantive editing is when you check the overall parts of what you’re editing: Does it make sense for the target audience? Is the wording going to be confusing or should it be simplified? Is the writing well organized? Have the facts been double-checked for accuracy?

Substantive editing requires diplomacy. Some writers don’t mind the changes when the writing improves due to the editing. Others get feisty, wanting to sneak up behind me and whack…

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Guest Post – By J. S. Collyer

Check out this great guest article written by J. S. Collyer. It’s a wonderful insight into the perils of characterization and the wonders that can be created from it; a must read for those worried about ‘flat characters.’ Top notch article lovely Lady 🙂 While there check out the rest of J. Aurel Guay’s blog. You’ll be blown away by the variety and creativity on there 🙂

The J. Aurel Guay Archive


Today I’m busy writing my thesis. Rather than bore you with the details of kidney disease in mice, my new friend science fiction writer, and blogger Jex Collyer will entertain and inform you on the importance of character development. Enjoy!

What Would Batman Do? Making Your Characters Human

By J. S. Collyer

I think everyone loves stories, or needs them, in some shape or form, whether they be TV series, movies, books, or articles on which celebrity fell into what ditch over the weekend and what they were (or weren’t) wearing at the time. Stories, no matter the sort, are powerful because they take us out of ourselves and give us another reality, another possibility, a window into another world.

Those among us who lean towards genre fiction like sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal or anything even slightly out of kilter with reality, arguably take it a step further than most: not…

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The Writer and the Vivid Imagination PLUS a new #FlashForFriday

Just recently I’ve come to wonder how writers control their vivid imaginations. In my opinion at least that’s the one ingredient writers can’t do without. One would need a vivid imagination combined with a love of creating new Worlds and a passion for the written word to create some literary marvels; but how do you stop it from leaking into your subconscious mind?

There’s a mild warning for late pregnancy that your dreams will become more vivid but I put a question to you; does it become a more surreal experience when you write? I have spoken to other women about this and they say the most that occurred with them was they could remember more of their dreams. So does this mean their dreams remained, for want of a better word, normal? Is it because we as writer’s use our imagination everyday to create Worlds and such immensely vivid clarity will automatically leak into the subconscious mind?

Speaking from my personal experience alone I am one that never remembered dreams, I would merely wake up with a sense of emotion from it such as fear from a nightmare. Recently however I have been remembering entire dreams and what I have dreamt has left me with a sense amusement and some very surreal literature to write. I’ve dreamt about visiting my sister in a place where I used to live but now it had purple sky and the houses had changed to palaces. I’ve dreamt about everything being made of chocolate (I know, I know lol 🙂 ) and I took a bite out of my boyfriend’s arm; but the most vivid dream I have had was about a talking horse. Now those old enough to remember will know of an American tv show called Mr Ed about such a talking horse but I can promise you,  my dream was far different…


How long had she run now? She felt like she had been running forever. She was so guilt stricken that she had run from battle that even her foot steps through the forest seemed to echo maniacal, taunting laughter. Her silver sword slapped at her back and her crossbow pinched her leather clad behind. Surely she was far enough away that she could stop now. The tendons in her legs burned and her feet were numb; collapsing from exhaustion was a near certainty at this point.

Eventually she came upon a silver lake surrounded by silver trees in the moonlight. She slowed her speed and soon came to a stop. Her chest felt heavy and her soul felt broken. She sat upon a nearby rock and allowed her head to fall into her hands. She panted as she felt pure crystalline tears escape through her fingers. What had happened to her? She had never been a coward before. She had always faced her foes with courage and a small amount of tenacity. However, seeing her King fall had almost shattered her. She had served with honour and had a love for the King and need to protect him. Seeing him pierced with a thousand arrows had sent many warriors in many directions, herself included. She was so ashamed.

She listened to the serene water for a while, hoping the calmness would overtake her soul but she was jarred by a note of discontent. There was a rustle coming from the other side of the lake. She tensed. Had the enemy found her already? She wouldn’t run this time she decided. She jumped to her feet withdrawing her sword as she went. It sliced through the air with cold lethality and somehow she began to heal. To her surprise however she didn’t see the enemy wading towards her, she found a beautiful pure white horse instead. She dropped her sword in amazement. It walked directly up to her, nuzzled her from head to toe and asked,

“Why do you cry?” She was shocked. Had the horse really spoken to her or was it just part of her feverish imaginings? Perhaps sanity had deserted her just as she had the battle. In any case she answered,

“I am a coward. I ran from my King’s battle. The sight of him falling to so many arrows shattered my heart; and… and… I do not want to die.”

“Fear not,” the steed claimed. “Climb onto my back and you will not die. We will win this battle together.” She wasn’t sure how to take this offer. Was she dreaming? What did she have to lose however? Well, her dignity but that was gone the moment she ran. She bent to scoop her sword from the soft silver grass and placed it within its sheath on her back. She then mounted the horse as graceful as she could, which is to say, not graceful at all. Finally situated she motioned for the horse to move on and it did so at blurring speed.

Soon enough they were both back at the scene of the battle. The dead were strewn across the ground with little care; the gold of the Kings men contrasted greatly with the pure black armour of the enemy. She didn’t know where to look. The battle still raged around them and she began to wonder what the point of it all was.

“Go bravely into battle,” the horse began. “Your courage will be shield alone but I will be here should you need me.”

She dismounted tentatively, unsure if her cowardice would resurface. She braced herself for an onslaught but found none, she would have to go to the battle. She watched in wonder as the horse plunged in head first felling all warriors in black as he went. It was a massacre but he was beautiful to behold.

She took a deep breath. She would be a coward no longer. She took the steed as an example and plunged into the battle. She used her sword to cut down foe before her and her crossbow to reach those her sword could not. In her own mind at least she was cutting a bloody swath that the enemy would not recover from.

Eventually enough of the enemy surrounded her and she fell to her knees exhausted. Let Death come now, she had earned forgiveness for her cowardice. She could die with honour.

“NO,” came a yell and she swore it was the horse again. He managed to wipe the enemy from one side of her and he shouted “you cannot die!” He charged her as he began to glow with silver light. It grew brighter and brighter until everyone, herself included, was blinded by it.

The silver sparkle gradually faded however and she found herself surrounded by her dead foe. More alarmingly she was clasped in a strong embrace amid the most intimate kiss of her life. She fluttered her eyes open and she was shocked to find the King alive and well. He broke the kiss reluctantly and said,

“Allia, warrior of the realm and my secret hearts desire, I will not let you go again.”


As you can see, it was the most vivid dream I could remember. What do you think? 🙂 Sorry if it doesn’t make sense, it was a dream after all 🙂


Hello lovely bloggers 🙂

I am so pleased to finally be able to say that I finished my short story to submit to the epic Dagda Publishing. They have a new anthology, much like the wonderful Tuned To A Dead Channel, coming out with the theme of technology gone mad and I found an idea flowing straight out of me. Hopefully it will be good enough to make the book; I truly enjoyed writing it. This is an excerpt from the beginning. I hope you enjoy 🙂



They say pride cometh before a fall. They weren’t wrong, Ana grimaced.


Why was she thinking of scripture now? She had a lot better things to do than think of mythology. She wobbled slightly on the support beam and had to refocus to centre herself. She had a job to do and she couldn’t afford to screw it up. This hinged on her actions.


She waited and she watched, checking her dual pistols as she went. They’d seen better days and were now the older model of the MK34’s but Ana loved them. They’d never let her down. Her longsword, made of hypersilver, shimmered at her back. Hypersilver was incredibly hard to get hold of on the Earthen black market but Ana had her ways; not to mention so many Eupounds it made them drool with delight.


She sighed. Where was the target? She knew she was no saint when it came to punctuality but tardiness in a Bot was beyond a joke. They were supposed to be the be all and end all of Humanity weren’t they? She sighed again as her patience wore even thinner.


Eventually there was movement below her and the target came into sight. She had chosen a deserted corridor of the station as she needed no questions. Yes her actions were sanctified, but not to the uninformed.


She dropped silently behind him and waited for the usual revulsion to surface. How could someone, anyone, willingly submit themselves to the Cleansing? They were taken up to the Bot home and never seen again. Soon the remnants of their previous lives would appear among the stagnant buildings left on the surface and each time Ana felt sick. She shook herself. This was no time to think of that. She drew her pistols and pointed them at his back.


Nice to see you again Chancellor.” She watched as he slowly turned round and had to smile at the dispassionate shine on his robotic face. He too had once been human and submitted to the Cleansing. Not one shred of humanity seemed to be left.


Be gone, pest” he replied in his metallic voice. It would have shredded the hearing of normal humans. Luckily Ana wasn’t normal.


Now Chancellor, you know that’s not going to happen,” Ana began, resting one pistol on her shoulder. “The Order has sent me to collect payment and that’s what they’ll get.”


You will get no currency from me,” he replied, and his monotone mechanical voice grated on her already stretched nerves.


Ah Chancellor, the time has passed that you could buy us off. Payment is now in what’s left of your life.” She could tell the Chancellor wasn’t impressed with her threat. She wasn’t sure Bots were even left with any sort of emotion. Next time she would ask.


Slowly she cocked her pistols and allowed the threat of them to hang between them. He seemed as unimpressed as he had always been and moved to charge her. Ana quickly rolled backwards, shooting as she went, allowing her momentum to increase the lethality of the lasers. Unfortunately they merely bounced off the shining metal that passed as his skin. Evidently the Chancellor could afford a better Cleansing than most. She sighed as she landed back on her feet and drew her sword. At this point she didn’t even bother to move but allowed the Chancellors momentum to carry him forward. She watched in only minor satisfaction as what was his neck connected firmly with her blade, followed by the thud of his head unit hitting the cold floor. No true emotion surfaced at the act, but then it never did.


She sighed as she turned to survey her work. The Chancellor lay in two neat pieces with not a single drop of blood flowing. She hadn’t expected any really. Everything organic was discarded in the Cleansing. Still, she moved to crush the head. If left to it another Bot could come along and reassemble the pieces making the Chancellor whole once again.


It was a strange sort of immortality that Ana loathed. For some reason, the central personality core was stored in the head unit, so the best way to ultimately kill them was to crush the head.


Job done, she turned to leave. The constant death and conflict seemed to be weighing on her more of late. She sighed and made her way back to her entry point. She was used to jump ships, transportation, hell – even an old fashioned aeroplane drop off. This time was different.


This time she had been bundled into a cargo box with one air hole and had ended up on this Bot Hell. She was then told that after she was successful; she almost liked her superiors confidence; then she would have to jump from the platform, blessedly still in Earth’s atmosphere, with only a parachute as support. Suffice to say she wasn’t optimistic about her chances of surviving. Then again, she never was…


Do You See Me?

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I wudn't be able doin' anythin' if I'll not take a sip of a bitter cup of pep.




dentists in Vietnam

Sanoj Jose

Helping You Find Answers to Your Thoughts


Finding ways to educate young minds


confessions are self-serving

Thoughts of the Fallen

A collection of nonsensical words thrown together

Elan Mudrow


Subdued Flamboyance

Poetry by Dr. Abhinav Majumder



Eric Weiskott

writer, teacher, literary historian


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