David Whitaker wrote 35 episodes of Crossroads

I’ve just received my copy of Doctor Who Chronicles — 1970, from the makers of Doctor Who Magazine. It features, on pp. 28-31 “Cross purposes”, my article on the back and forth of personnel between the production teams of Doctor Who and the ATV soap opera Crossroads, me arguing that the 1970 reboot of Doctor Who owes as much to the soap as it does to the oft-cited Quatermass. 

Several writers worked on both Doctor Who and Crossroads at different times, including Barbara Clegg, Terrance Dicks, David Ellis, Paul Erickson, Brian Hayles, Don Houghton, Malcolm Hulke, Peter Ling, Derrick Sherwin and my bae David Whitaker. I trace who did what when, and the direction of travel back and forth between the two series.

But this new article originates in me being wrong. Here is the full story, with a wealth of new information about David Whitaker.

On page 332 of my biography David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television, I quote a Sunday Times story by ‘Atticus’ (Michael Bateman) from 8 March 1970, criticising actions by David Whitaker ‘who used to write for Crossroads.’ I respond to this: ‘David had written episodes of the soap opera Compact, not Crossroads.’ In fact, I now know David wrote for both.

A number of things led me to the wrong conclusion in my book. First, I had access to various CVs and potted biographies of David from over the years, which tend to emphasise the great variety of film and TV he worked on. None of them mention Crossroads yet they include many things that didn’t make it to the screen or for which he didn't receive on-screen credit. 

For example, a report in the Australian TV Week from 18 May 1974, which interviewed David, claimed he’d written ‘a number of episodes of The Saint, The Avengers and Danger Man’. He’d had a meeting about potential work on The Saint and may have pitched an episode of Danger Man… But he doesn't have a credit on any of these shows and there's no evidence that he was ever commissioned to write full scripts for them. It seems that David, not uniquely in the industry, exaggerated a little to bulk out his CV. I thought if he had worked on Crossroads, or even gone for a meeting with the production team, he would have included it on a CV. 

I was able to verify that David is not credited as writer on any surviving episodes of Crossroads. When researching at Birmingham Central Library, I leafed through old copies of listings magazine TV Times but the random selection of Crossroads episodes I found did not credit the writer (or director or producer). This was, as we'll see, an oversight on my part.

IMDB, as yet, does not credit David for any episodes of Crossroads but I already knew it was missing many screen credits I could trace from other sources. I ran David's name through The Kaleidoscope British Independent Television Drama Research Guide 1955-2010 edited by Simon Coward, Richard Down and Christopher Perry (2010) and various online archives but his name didn’t come up in relation to Crossroads. 

In addition, one of the people I interviewed for my book told me that they didn’t think David wrote for Crossroads as it was a programme they watched and they would have spotted his name. In all, it seemed fair to surmise that ‘Atticus’ in the Sunday Times had muddled things up: David Whitaker worked with writers Hazel Adair and Peter Ling on developing their BBC soap opera Compact and is credited as writer on seven episodes of that; but he didn’t then work on their ATV soap Crossroads.

Then, late last year, Doctor Who Magazine #610 boasted an extended interview with former producer Philip Hinchcliffe, in which writer Benjamin Cook noted that Hinchcliffe had written for Crossroads. In a footnote on page 26, Ben said that “David Whittaker” — two Ts — had also written for the soap. 

I ran some online searches to see if I could corroborate this and ended up finding a photograph of the cast and crew of Crossroads (image 12588028vh) that has been added to Shutterstock since I wrote my book. Second from the left in the bottom row is David Whitaker. Which, flipping heck, is pretty conclusive evidence that he worked on the series.

The caption with the photograph tells us who some of the other people are: 

“Crossroads: Behind the scenes cast and crew picture circa early 1970s - featuring, including Rollo Gamble (TV Director, 1st R, back row), Jack Barton (TV Director and Producer, 3rd L back row), Tish Hope, as played by Joy Andrews (5th L, middle row), Noele Gordon as Meg Richardson, Ann George, as Amy Turtle, Susan Hanson, as Diane (2nd R middle row), David Whitaker (TV Script Writer - former BBC TV series Doctor Who writer, 2nd L btm row), Reg Watson (Producer, seated centre on chair), and others”

I think Hazel Adair and Peter Ling are in the front row, Ling in glasses and moustache at Reg Watson’s knee. Second left on the back row, stood between Rollo Gamble and Jack Barton, may be fellow director Alan Coleman. (Three of the people in this photograph figured in Russell T Davies' 2023 drama Nolly, namely Noele Gordon played by Helena Bonham Carter, Susan Hanson played by Chloe Harris and director Jack Barton played by Con O'Neill.)

I was especially taken by the sight of Rollo Gamble in the top-right corner, as he played Squire Winstanley in 1971 Doctor Who story The Daemons. It was this that inspired my new article for DWM.

The photograph seems to show cast and crew on the roof of Bradford House, on Bradford Street in Digbeth, which ATV rented for rehearsals. As my friend David Jennings astutely notes, the skyline matches the view in pictures taken in 2007, and the view would have been very different from the original ATV Centre in Aston or the new complex on Broad Street, which opened in 1970. Since Cleo Sylvestre, who joined the cast in an episode first broadcast on 27 January 1970,  doesn’t feature among the cast in this photograph, I think it must have been taken in 1969.

Having found this photograph, I got in touch with Benjamin Cook to ask what sources he’d drawn from. He pointed me back towards the Kaleidoscope guide, which lists 24 episodes of Crossroads written by David Whittaker — two Ts — between 22 July 1969 and 27 February 1970. But there were also numerous gaps where no writer was credited at all, leaving the tantalising prospect that Whitaker had written more.

The Kaleidoscope guide lists episodes of Crossroads on the basis of their first transmission on the ATV network (as some other ITV regions showed Crossroads days or even months behind). I double-checked against copies of TV Times for the Midlands region (the one served by ATV) at Birmingham Central Library and found David credited for eight episodes covering that same period, 22 July 1969 to 27 February 1970.

But the reason for the discrepancy swiftly became clear. At the time, Crossroads was broadcast four times a week, Tuesday to Friday, and the listings in TV Times usually credits writer, director and producer only on the Tuesday. The implication is that the same writer and director were assigned blocks of four episodes at a time — a week’s worth. David was therefore credited on eight blocks of four episodes, or 32 in total. It was consistent work, one block per calendar month between July and February. And nothing either side.

The TV Times listings usually include a line of dialogue from the episode in question, instead of precis or recap (which might spoil the plot). This gives some flavour of the drama. What's more, the lines of dialogue seem to be from the opening moments of each episode. That meant I could relatively easily match the listings printed in TV Times with the soundtrack of an otherwise missing episode - part of a cache of 1960s episodes of Crossroads on the Internet Archive - and show it was one written by David.

* UPDATE 12 March 2025. David Jennings has been in touch to add to the total. The TV Times for the week of 27 September 1969 lists Peter Ling as writer of Crossroads on Tuesday, 30 September. But then David is credited for Wednesday, 1 October. There's no writer credit for Thursday or Friday, but the assumption is he oversaw that whole block of episodes bar the first one. 

David Whitaker's 32 episodes of Crossroads are as follows, with quotations, cast and crew details as per the ATV region TV Times:

1. 
   Episode 1116, 6.35 pm, Tuesday, 22 July 1969 (the day after Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin left the surface of the Moon)


   
   “Amy: Any more surprises and I’ll jump out of my skin.”

   
   Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Michael McStay (Steve Mitchell); Pamela Duncan (Mrs Cordelia Fitts); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); William Avenall (Mr Lovejoy); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); Susan Travers (Elena Brandt); Eva Wishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Ralph Lawton (Sgt Yorke); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs).
   
   WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ROLLO GAMBLE PRODUCER REG WATSON
   
   Full listing for this episode in the Anglia-region version of TV Times (because I couldn't get a very legible picture from the bound edition of the Midlands version!):
   

   
   
   
2. Episode 1117, 6.35 pm, Wednesday 23 July 1969
   
   Jill: “I know. You’re so innocent and misunderstood. But can’t you see how much trouble you’re causing?”
   
   Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Eva Wishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Susan Travers (Elena Brandt); Pamela Duncan (Mrs Cordelia Fitts); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Michael McStay (Steve Mitchell); Bay White (Mrs Arden); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); John Bradbury (Musician).
   
   DIRECTOR JACK BARTON

   
   
3. Episode 1118, 6.35 pm, Thursday, 24 July 1969
   
   Malcolm: “Burn the dinner! Chuck it in the dustbin!”
   
   Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Michael McStay (Steve Mitchell); Eva Wishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Pamela Duncan (Mrs Cordelia Fitts); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Ralph Lawton (Sgt Yorke).
   
   
4. Episode 1119, 6.35 pm, Friday 25 July 1969
   
   Same quotation and listing given as for Thursday.

   
   
5. 
   Episode 1132, 6.35 pm Tuesday 19 August 1969
   
   Diane: “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
   
   Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Doris Wellings (Mrs Grimble); Ted Morris (Willie Mayne); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Colin Spaull (Jacko Gregg); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Philip Garston-Jones (Commercial traveller); Ann George (Amy Turtle).
   
   SCRIPT BY DAVID WHITAKER: SCRIPT EDITOR MALCOLM HULKE: DIRECTOR JACK BARTON: PRODUCER REG WATON

   
   
6. Episode 1133, 6.35 pm, Wednesday 20 August 1969
   
   Mr Lovejoy: “Am I such a tyrant?”
   
   Cast: Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Susan Hanson (Diana [sic] Lawton); Doris Wellings (Mrs Grimble); Ted Morris (Willie Mayne); Ralph Lawton (Sgt Yorke); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Philip Garston-Jones (Commercial traveller); Eve Whishaw (Tessa Wyvern).
NB no credit for Noele Gordon.

   
   
7. Episode 1134, 6.35pm, Thursday 21 August 1969
   
   Joesfina: “Now, now, Mrs Hope—you’re match-making.”
   
   No cast given.

   
   
8. Episode 1135, 6.35 pm, Friday 22 August 1969
   
   Diane: “Wouldn’t it be better to tell Mrs Richardson about the gambling?”

   
   No cast given.

   
   
9. Episode 1148, 6.35 pm, Tuesday 16 September 1969
   
   Booth: “I have strict rules.”
   
   Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg); Hilary Wontner (Sir Geoffrey); Ann George (Amy Turtle); David Lawton (Mr Booth); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); Jon Kelly (Frank Adam); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Paul Large (Paul Tatum); Jane Rossington (Jill).
   
   WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ALAN COLEMAN: PRODUCER REG WATSON.

   
   
10. Episode 1149, 6.35 pm, Wednesday 17 September 1969
    
    Amy: “It gives you confidence to have a revolver in the palm of your hand.”
    
    No cast given.

    
    
11. Episode 1150, 6.35 pm, Thursday, 18 September 1969
    
    Meg: “Why didn’t Malcolm confide in me?”

    Sir Geoffrey: “I’m offering you a lifeline. You must take it.”
    
    No cast given.

    
    
12. Episode 1151, 6.35pm, Friday 19 September 1969
    
    Meg: “Are you certain he doesn’t need any stitches?”
    
    No cast given.
The audio of this episode survives.
    
    (Episode 1156, 6.35 pm, Tuesday 30 September 1969 credited in TV Times to writer Peter Ling)
    
    
13. 
    Episode 1157, 6.35 pm, Wednesday 1 October 1969
    
    Nick: “I hope you’re wrong about Mrs Grey.”
    
    Cast: Roger Squires (Harold Brackett); Isabella Rye (Mary-Lou Patterson); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Brian Kent (Dick Jarvis); Gaby Vargas (Vivienne Miller); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Eva Whishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey)
    
    WRITER DAVID WHITAKER : DIRECTOR JACK BARTON : PRODUCER REG WATSON
    
    
    
    
    
14. Episode 1158, 6.35 pm, Thursday 2 October 1969
    
    No cast or details given.
    
    
15. Episode 1159, 6.35 pm, Friday 3 October 1969
    
     “He’s dead... He’s dead!”
    
    Cast: Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Elisabeth Croft (Miss Tatum); Brian Kent (Dick Jarvis); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Eva Wishaw (Tessa Wyvern); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Isabelle Rye (Mary Lou Patterson); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Gaby Vargas (Vivienne Miller); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey)
    
    
16. Episode 1172, 6.35 pm, Tuesday 28 October 1969
    
    Mrs Grey: “That’s why I’m here.”
    Malcolm: “Because of me.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Michael Anthony (Col. St Clair); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Denis Gilmore (Terry Lawton).

    
    SCRIPT DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ALAN COLEMAN: PRODUCER REG WATSON
    
    
    
    
    
17. Episode 1173, 6.35pm, Wednesday 29 October 1969
    
    Jill: “Thick quickly, Uncle Dick, because I mean what I say.”

    
    No cast given.

    
    
18. Episode 1174, 6.35pm, Thursday 30 October 1969
    
    Diane: “Why don’t you order champagne?”
    Terry: “A beer’s not going to break us is it?”
    
    Cast: Elisabeth Croft (Miss Tatum); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); John Henderson (Mr Meddows); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Beatrice Shaw (Mrs Seymour); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Brian Kent (Dick Jarvis); Denis Gilmore (Terry Lawton); Brian Hankins (Derek Maynard); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder).
    
    
19. Episode 1175, 6.35pm, Friday 31 October 1969
    
    Gypsy: “Shall I read what the cards say for you, Lady?”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Brian Hankins (Derek Maynard); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey); Malja Woolf (Gypsy); Beatrice Shaw (Mrs Seymour); Denis Gilmore (Terry Lawton); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); John Henderson (Mr Meddows); Elisabeth Croft (Miss Tatum).
    
    
20. Episode 1188, 6.35 pm Tuesday 25 November 1969
(Crossroads now in colour)
    
    No quotation
    
    Cast: Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); John Gatrell (Commander Boone); Denis Gilmore (Terry Lawton); Sally-Jane Spencer (Caroline Boone); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Elisabeth Croft (Miss Tatum); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Eva Wishaw (Tessa Wyvern); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson).
    
    SCRIPT BY DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ROLLO GAMBLE: PRODUCER REG WATSON.

    
    
21. Episode 1189, 6.35 pm, Wednesday, 26 November 1969
    
    Terry: “The Commander? He didn’t land me this one?”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Eva Whishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Denis Gilmore (Terry Lawton); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs).
    
    WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ROLLO GAMBLE: PRODUCER REG WATSON
    

22. Episode 1190, 6.35 pm, Thursday, 27 November 1969
    
    Archie: “Do you want to make £100?”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Eva Whishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Brian Hankins (Derek Maynard); Jean Aubrey (Kathy Knight); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey).

    
    
23. Episode 1191, 6.35 pm, Friday, 28 November 1969
    
    Amy: “Oh yes… here, he’s not leading you astray is he?”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Jack Haig (Archie Gibbs); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Gillian Betts (Josefina Rafael); David Davenport (Malcolm Ryder); Elisabeth Croft (Miss Tatum); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Brian Hankins (Derek Maynard); Jean Aubrey (Kathy Knight); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Eva Whishaw (Tessa Wyvern); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey).

    
    
24. Episode 1209, 6.35 pm, Tuesday, 30 December 1969
    
    Mr Lovejoy: “Your way is not the only way.”
    Mr Booth: “Your way is certainly not the right way.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Jacqueline Stanbury (Joanne Peterson); Roger Tonge (Sandy Richardson); David Lawton (Mr Booth); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Nicola Davies (Angela Davy); Beatrice Kane (Miss Davey).


    
    WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ALAN COLEMAN: PRODUCER REG WATSON

    
    
25. Episode 1210, 6.35 pm, Wednesday, 31 December 1969
    
    Eve: “Do you remember I told you Michael was out of the country?”

    Mrs Hope: “Yes.”

    Eve: “Diane met him at the El Dorado.”
    
    Cast: Roger Tonge (Sandy Richardson); Jacqueline Stanbury (Joanne Peterson); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Jane Rossington (Jill Richardson); Nicola Davies (Angela Davy).

    
    
26. Episode 1211, 6.35 pm, Thursday, 1 January 1970
    
    Mr Booth: “Mr Lovejoy’s quite an elderly gentleman, isn’t he?”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Claire Davenport (Miss Worbeck); Jacqueline Stanbury (Joanne Peterson); David Lawton (Mr Booth); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Roger Tonge (Sandy Richardson); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Nicola Davies (Angela Davy); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker).

    
    
27. Episode 1212, 6.35 pm, Friday 2 January 1970
    
    Michael: “Take a look in the mirror sweetheart, and give yourself a shock.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Paul Greaves (Michael Phillips); Roger Tonge (Sandy Richardson); Jacqueline Stanbury (Joanne Peterson); Claire Davenport (Miss Worbeck); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope).

    
    
28. Episode 1225, 6.35 pm, Tuesday 27 January 1970
    
    Eve: “How much will you pay me to tell my story to your paper?”
    
    Cast: Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Michael Mundell (Marcus Allison); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Doreen Keogh (Mrs Candour); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper).
    
    WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR ROLLO GAMBLE: PRODUCER REG WATSON.

    
    This was a notable episode, featuring the introduction of new regular character Melanie Harper, played by Cleo Sylvestre (who had also had a role in David’s 1965 Doctor Who story The Crusade). Sylvestre later recalled:
    
    “Enoch Powell had been making those terrible ‘Rivers of Blood’ speeches, which resulted in a lot of racial tension up and down the country, especially in cities like Birmingham. Reg [Watson, producer of Crossroads] must have picked up on this, and decided to create one of the first regular black characters in a British soap… Melanie Harper was Meg’s adopted daughter who, until then, had never been mentioned. Melanie arrived from France, where she had been studying, and viewers just accepted her. It was great. It was wonderful.
    
     “At the very end of an episode, I walked into the motel with a suitcase and rung the reception desk bell. The receptionist came out and I said 'Can I speak to Mrs Richardson, please?’ and she said ‘Yes. Who shall I say is asking for her?’ I replied, ‘Tell her it’s her daughter.’ And then the music came up. What a cliffhanger! This was the first time Meg’s other daughter had been mentioned.” - Cleo Sylvestre, interviewed by Stephen Bourne as part of ‘Soap Queens’ at the NFT, 2001
     

29. Episode 1226, 6.35 pm, Wednesday, 28 January 1970
    
    Peter: “The Bishop wants to see me as soon as possible.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Doreen Keogh (Mrs Candour); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Michael Mundell (Marcus Allison); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope).
    

30. Episode 1227, 6.35 pm Thursday, 29 January 1970
    
    Meg: “I’ve had some news about Malcolm, Mrs Grey—you’re the only one I can talk to.”

    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Doreen Keogh (Mrs Candour); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Ann George (Amy Turtle); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); William Sherwood (The Bishop); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey).
    
    
31. Episode 1228, 6.35 pm, Friday, 30 January 1970
    
    Mrs Hope: “Angela, either you do come, or I’ll say what I have to say to your aunt… and to the police.”

    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); ; Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Michael Mundell (Marcus Allison); Nicola Davies (Angela Davy); Patricia Greene (Mrs Grey); Doreen Keogh (Mrs Candour); Neville Hughes (Peter Hope); Nadine Hanwell (Marilyn Hope); Beatrice Kane (Miss Davy).

    
    
32. Episode 1241, 6.35 pm Tuesday, 24 February 1970
    
    Eve: “He’s still critically ill. I could have helped him you know. He begged me—and I refused.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Kevin Frazer (Rex Drayton); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Jon Kelley (Frank Adam); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker).
    
    WRITER DAVID WHITAKER: DIRECTOR JACK BARTON: PRODUCER REG WATSON

    
    
33. Episode 1242, 6.35 pm, Wednesday, 25 February 1970
    
    Meg: “There’s only one way to get some sanity into this motel and that is to set fire to everyone and start all over again.”
    
    Cast: Noele Gordon (Meg Richardson); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); Jon Kelley (Frank Adam); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); David Lawton (Mr Booth); Kevin Frazer (Rex Drayton).

    
    
34. Episode 1243, 6.35 pm, Thursday 26 February 1970
    
    Nurse: “You really shouldn’t have come back, Miss Baker. I did say we’d get in touch with you if there was any change.”
    
    Cast: Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren); William Avenell (Mr Lovejoy); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Ann George (Amy Turtle); Lee Clark (Delivery boy);  Kevin Frazer (Rex Drayton); Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Sarah Child (Nurse).
    

35. Episode 1244, 6.35 pm, Friday 27 February 1970
    
    Melanie: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Diane: “When I woke up in the middle of the night you were missing.”


    
    Cast: Cleo Sylvestre (Melanie Harper); Susan Hanson (Diane Lawton); Peter Brookes (Vince Parker); David Sherwood (Danny Conroy); Jon Kelley (Frank Adam); Toni Sinclair (Eve Baker); Joy Andrews (Mrs Hope); Ann George (Amy Turtle); David Lawton (Mr Booth); Deidre Costello (Rita Mayne); Peter Boyes (Nick Van Doren).

When Atticus wrote the Sunday Times piece published on 8 March, David Whitaker had stopped working for Crossroads only very recently. We don't know the circumstances under which he left the programme but around this time other people who employed David received poison-pen letters about him. Did such letters reach ATV and hasten his departure? If so, is there something knowing, even crowing, about the Sunday Times saying that he “used to write for Crossroads”? 

Whatever the case, David Whitaker left just before the arrival of a new writer on Crossroads. Philip Hinchcliffe's first episode aired on ATV on 21 April 1970.

A Doctor Who pitch: Perfect Worlds

Yesterday, while searching for something else I came across five one-paragraph ideas for Doctor Who audiobooks that I submitted on Sunday, 15 November 2009, a few hours before settling down to watch The Waters of Mars. 

One of the five ideas is striking. I had no idea at the time that Amy’s Choice had been commissioned for the 2010 TV series and this was all a long time before the Dream Crabs featured in Last Christmas (2014). But, by total coincidence, I came up with something a bit similar:

Perfect Worlds


A sort of ghost story. Amy and the Doctor rescue each other from their dreams. After finally leaving the Doctor behind, Amy is back home with her friends – human ones and those she’s met on her adventures with the Doctor. It’s a nice day and there’s a big party. But some of the friends she knows are really dead. And then the Doctor comes to see her. He explains she’s asleep, she’s been bitten by something that’s feeding off her dreams – and is slowly killing her. He’s using a machine to speak to her: and by willing to wake up she can. The Doctor shows her the small, scaly creature feeding on their desires. And it bites him. Amy now has to go rescue him… He dreams of his own home and the thousands of people who he couldn’t save, all living happily together. Amy talks him out of staying.

This happens quite a lot: more than once I’ve been told I can’t do X or Y in a Doctor Who story because someone else is already doing it or something like it in another story I didn’t know about. As an editor and producer, I’ve sometimes had to tell people the same thing. There is a lot of Doctor Who being dreamt up all the time, so it’s not really surprising.

But on this particular occasion I don’t think I was made aware that I’d chanced upon the wheeze of a forthcoming TV episode. And by the time Amy’s Choice was broadcast on 15 May 2010, I’d forgotten having a similar idea. 

That’s probably because I was a bit caught up in other things at the time. But it’s also how pitching works: if the people you’re pitching aren’t enthused by what you send in, you send in something else. Ideas are the easy bit. If there’s interest in an idea you then move on to the trickier thing of developing it into a storyline.

I sent in some more ideas and one of those eventually became The Empty House, released in September 2012. 

But I realise (having had it pointed out) that I then worked some of this Perfect Worlds idea into The Anachronauts, released in January 2012. In fact, another of the pitches sent in with Perfect Worlds was called The Deluge and reworked an outline for a Doctor Who novel I’d submitted in the early 2000s. That idea eventually ended up as The Flood, an episode of my science-fiction series Graceless, released in December 2011. 

The three other ideas — Snip! Snip!, 77 Aliens and The Brain Drain — might still find homes somewhere… Never throw anything away, Harry.

This morning, out for a walk, I puzzled over where the wheeze for Perfect Worlds came from in the first place. At the time, one trick I used for sparking ideas was to scan over my shelves of books and DVDs. It wasn’t always to come up with, “A Doctor Who version of X…” Often just being reminded of a scene, a character, a line of dialogue would ignite something.

With that in mind, I think Perfect Worlds was probably inspired by the 1986 movie Labyrinth, especially the “As The World Falls Down” sequence at the ball — hence Amy being at a party — and the bit when Sarah thinks she is back in her room but it’s yet another trick. She has to puzzle out, for herself, the difference between the comforting and the real… 

Maybe I’d been told, or picked up somewhere, that the 2010 series of Doctor Who would have something of a fairy-tale feel. If so, I was trying to get myself in the right kind of head space to match that — and that’s why this idea came so close to what they were already doing. 

Someone from the Past, by Margot Bennett

Nancy Graham, 26 year-old magazine writer and the narrator of this novel, is out for dinner with her fiancee Donald when they bump into Susan Lampson. Nancy used to share a flat and work with Susan but they’ve not seen each other in a while. To complicate matters, Donald used to go out with Susan and when she left him tried to shoot himself.

Now Susan is marrying someone else — but, she tells Nancy, she’s received a threatening note from an ex. Susan wants Nancy, who kept notes in shorthand on Susan’s love-life when they lived together, to seek out her exes and find out who is making trouble. It might be the convicted thief Peter or the poet Laurence or the vain actor Mike… Nancy is sure it can’t be Donald.

When Susan is murdered, Nancy’s first thought is to ensure that the police don’t suspect her fiancee. But in tidying up the crime scene to protect Donald, she incriminates herself…

This is a fantastic return to form by Margot Bennett after the disappointment of Farewell Crown and Good-bye King. It’s at least as good as The Widow of Bath and probably better, my favourite of her books that I have read so far. I can see why it won the Crime Writers’ Association ‘Crossed Red Herrings’ award — since renamed the Gold Dagger (and presented to Bennett by JB Priestley) — and why Bennett was, in 1959, elected to the Detection Club. Fast-moving, twisty and suspenseful, this keeps us guessing to the end. Even the very last paragraph takes an unexpected turn.

In his introduction, Martin Edwards quotes Bennett herself on what made this and The Man Who Didn’t Fly “my best books”. The latter,

“had an unusual plot and a set of people I believed in. In the same way, Someone from the Past had five characters I might have met anywhere. The best of all my people was the girl Nancy. She was kind and cruel, and loyal and bitchy. She was a ready liar, with a sharp tongue, but she was brave and real. All through my books, the best I have done is to make the people real.” (pp. 9-10, citing John M Reilly (ed.), Twentieth Century Crime and Mystery Writers)

Nancy is a compelling protagonist. We never know what she might do next. She is observant and reckless, intelligent and yet capable of extraordinary folly. Sometimes she tries to fix things in ways we can see (and want to shout) will only make things worse. But we are with her all the way as she faces multiple dangers.

As so often with Margot Bennett, characters attracted to one another bicker and fight, but here the stakes are raised because any one of these men Nancy is winding up could be the murderer. Whether or not they did for Susan, they can be violent with Nancy, or treat her appallingly in other ways. In fact, she is not the only woman here who puts up with variously crap men.

This British Library Crime Classic edition, first published in 2023, is subtitled “a London mystery” and it boasts a few good descriptions of places such as Soho. More than that, it offers an extraordinary snapshot of the mores of 1958, the year the novel was originally published. As well as a lot of smoking and drinking, there’s a surprising nonchalance about drugs. Tired and wound-up after a row with Donald, Nancy tells us:

“I knew I should take a couple of strong sleeping-pills. They would give me four hours’ sleep, and a heavily-doped morning that would make work impossible, unless I took a stimulant. After that, a couple of tranquilizing tablets would level me up for the day.” (p. 37)

She has all of these to hand as, a few pages later, she offers them and “a confidence drug” to her fiancee, who tells her he’s already taken “knockout pills” (p. 45). These, we learn, are “blue things, sodium amytal” (p. 47). Elsewhere, Nancy seems familiar with benzedrine. The drug-taking is part of the plot (one suspect was apparently doped and unconscious at the time of the murder) but also part of everyday life. 

I’m intrigued by elements of the novel that Bennett may have drawn from her own (fascinating) life, such as her years as a writer for the magazine Lilliput (while her husband Richard Bennett was editor).

“From the moment that I got the job on the Diagonal Press and scrawled out my first paid illiteracies I saw myself as a great writer, one who kept notebooks and would soon be guest of honour at literary luncheons.” (p. 27)

Again, the notebooks are part of the plot but I wonder how much this attitude — to her earlier work and to her career — matched Bennett’s own. When the murder case bears down on Nancy, the publisher she works for offers her a chance to get away with a job in Spain (p. 248). Is that a nod to Bennett’s own history, as she served as a nurse (and publicist) in Spain during the civil war?

Then there is what the novel says about Television, which in those days still had a capital T. Bennett had already made her debut as a TV writer: her one-off drama The Sun Divorce (dir. Philip Savile) was shown as part of London Playhouse on the ITV network Associated-Redifussion on Thursday 26 January 1956, just four months after the launch of ITV. Writing of Someone from the Past must have overlapped with the agreement of rights for a TV adaptation one of her earlier novels: The Man Who Didn’t Fly, starring William Shatner and Jonathan Harris, was adapted by Jerome Coopersmith and broadcast by NBC in Canada on 16 July 1958.

Since it was made and broadcast in Canada, Bennett probably had little involvement in this and she may never have seen it. But, excitingly, we can watch that production of The Man Who Didn’t Fly on YouTube. It even enjoys a bit of a following because it stars both William Shatner and Jonathan Harris, later stars of Star Trek and Lost in Space respectively. 

Margot Bennett was soon writing for TV herself, with work on ATV soap opera Emergency-Ward 10, perhaps making use of her own nursing experience. IMDB credits her on 15 episodes of the soap, broadcast between Tuesday 23 September 1958 and Friday 22 May 1959. The implication is that she moved into soap opera soon after completing work on this novel.

By the time she finished on Emergency-ward 10, Bennett had made the switch to BBC — and more prestigious drama — with her six-part adaption of her novel The Widow of Bath, which began transmission on 1 June 1959. But Someone from the Past suggests she was already familiar with the mechanics of BBC television more than a year before that.

In the novel, actor Mike Fenby, presumably used to late nights on stage followed by late mornings (as described in Exit Through the Fireplace), complains of the “brutal creatures” of “Terrivision” who have him up at “ten o’clock” in the morning for rehearsals in Shepherds Bush — which is where the BBC was based. 

“And you should see, I really wish you could see, the producer. Temperament! He thinks out the sets with a kind of telescope, and when he wants to concentrate, he blows bubbles. … He has a tin. He shakes the bubbles off with a bit of wire. They help him to relax. When they burst, they cover the floor with slime, like invisible banana skins. There’s practically no one in the cast who hasn’t a sprained ankle or a broken neck. You ought to see us, skidding about the place.” (pp. 39-40). 

That “telescope” was a director’s viewfinder, enabling the director to see how much of the actors and set would be visible through different diameter lenses, and to plan and block their shots ahead of studio recording. Viewfinders had been in use since at least 1938: the Tech Ops site boasts a clipping from Radio Times that year, a photo of one in use and some other details. But this is not the sort of thing people outside the world of TV were likely to know about,.

Actor Mike can escape from rehearsals for lunch with Nancy at one o’clock, suggesting “a pub called the Blue Unicorn”, which is surely a play on the real-life White Horse at 31 Uxbridge Road, where I’ve also sometimes met up with actors. (For those with an interest in the drinking habits of old TV people, the late Alvin Rakoff says in his memoir of working for the BBC in the 1950s that after recording at Lime Grove he’d take the crew for a pint at the end of the road, in the British Prince at 77 Goldhawk Road.)

Later, Mike can’t believe Nancy didn’t see his TV performance go out.

“‘I thought you might have been interested enough to watch me on the new medium.’

‘It’s a fairly old medium by now, isn’t it?’

‘But Nancy, this was terrific. I’m a brain surgeon, you see, who takes to drink, and just when I’m having a terrible fit of the stagers, my former loved one is wheeled in with her brains dashed out. I’m supposed to shake so much, the forceps clash together like a steel band as I approach the operating table. The trouble was that I really was shaking so much I dropped the whole kit of instruments on her face. It was Sylvia, you know, she’s got a shocking temper, I cracked the porcelain jacket on one of her front teeth, she’s going to sue me. If I hadn’t got between her and the cameras and ad-libbed, the viewers would have heard every word she said. You certainly missed something. It will be in all the papers tomorrow.” (p. 95)

There’s a lot of interest here (to me): Television no longer a novelty, favouring melodramatic productions in which the viewer might enjoy the emotional crisis of characters in close-up, all within the lively, stressy chaos of live broadcast. The depiction is a bit pointed, even satirical — as is Mike buying up all the papers to bask in the contradictory reviews — but the details are all right, and so surely based on direct observation.

Did Margot Bennett have first-hand experience of BBC drama production when she wrote Someone from the Past, more than a year before her first writing credits at the BBC? Her husband had worked in BBC radio since the war and also sometimes wrote for listings magazine Radio Times, such as his interview with Jimmy Wheeler ahead of a TV comedy show in May 1956. Yet it seems unlikely that Margot tours of TV rehearsals through that connection. 

More probable, I think, is this came through her own efforts. Was she meeting with BBC people about writing for TV, and getting tours of production, long before her first screen credit there? Or perhaps, like Nancy, Margot Bennett simply met an actor friend for lunch while they were in rehearsals…

Whatever the case, and for all Bennett might have mocked TV drama, something extraordinary happened after the publication of Someone from the Past. Despite the accolades it won, she never published another crime novel. According to her family (and detailed in the introduction to the British Library edition of The Man Who Didn’t Fly), she didn’t earn enough from novels to continue; crime didn’t pay. Instead, she spent the next decade writing prolifically for TV.

More investigation to follow...

Novels by Margot Bennett:

• Time to Change Hats (1945); Away Went the Little Fish (1946); The Golden Pebble (1948); The Widow of Bath (1952); Farewell Crown and Good-bye King (1953); The Long Way Back (1954); The Man Who Didn’t Fly (1955); Someone from the Past (1958); That Summer’s Earthquake (1964); The Furious Masters (1968)

Non-fiction by Margot Bennett:

• The Intelligent Woman’s Guide to Atomic Radiation (1964) 

Doctor Who Magazine Yearbook 2025

The 2025 yearbook from Doctor Who Magazine is now out, featuring a couple of things typed by me.

Pages 28 and 29 relive the experience, in May, of watching season opener Space Babies for the first time, my son the then 12 year-old Lord of Chaos keen to see it at midnight - especially if we had crisps. Then, on page 68 and 69, we mark the 40th anniversary of The Who Shop on 2 December, with an interview with owners Alex and Kevan.

Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

LXXI

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,

Nor all they Tears wash out a Word of it. (p. 92)

Or, to put it another way, you can’t rewrite history — not one line.

In 1859, a reclusive, privately wealthy scholar called Edward Fitzgerald anonymously published 250 copies of a pamphlet containing his translation in English of 75 four-line rhyming poems, a form known as “rubāʿī”, attributed to a Persian poet, Omar Khayyám, in the 11th century. No one paid much attention to this pamphlet until, in 1861, the lawyer and literary scholar Whitley Stokes happened across a stack of copies at a bookstall near Leicester Square, where the original price of five shillings had been reduced to a penny. 

Having bought one, Stokes showed it to his friends, including the poets Algernon Charles Swinburne and Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who duly bought their own copies. Swinburne’s account of what then happened (apparently from p. 188, vol 6, of The Swinburne Letters) is quoted in my copy of the Rubáiyát:

“Next day we thought we might get some more for presents among our friends, but the man at the stall asked twopence! Rossetti expostulated with him in terms of such humorously indignant remonstrance as none but he could ever have commanded. We took a few, and left him. In a week or two, if I am not much mistaken, the remaining copies were sold at a guinea.” (p. x)

Word gradually caught on. Fitzgerald produced an expanded, second edition containing 110 of the four-line poems in 1868, and further revised editions, each of 101 of these quatrains, in 1872, 1879 and 1889 — the latter published after Fitzgerald’s death.

By the end of the 19th century, “more than two millions copies have been sold [of the Rubaiyat] in over two hundred editions” (according to a facsimile of the first edition published c. 1900). It became “one of the most admired works of Victorian literature” and “in the first half of the 20th century was arguably the most influential [long poem] in the English language”, according to Melvyn Bragg, introducing a 2014 episode of In Our Time on The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. 

Hector Hugh Munro adopted the pen-name “Saki” after the cup-bearer in the Rubaiyat. Various dining clubs were established in honour of Khayyam: writers JM Barrie, Arthur Conan-Doyle, Thomas Hardy and AE Housman were all members of one. Housman’s friend, the mathematician John Edensor Littlewood bought a slim, pocket-sized volume containing both the first and forth editions as a present for my great aunt on her 11th birthday in 1938, which is the copy I’ve just read.

In 1961, David Whitaker drew from this book when he wrote the BBC children’s serial Garry Halliday and the Secret of Omar Khayyam, broadcast at Saturday teatimes over seven weeks in early 1962. I’ll dig into that more when I write up my notes for the corresponding entry in my Garry Halliday episode guide. But for now, it’s enough to recognise that this little book was still resonant a hundred years after Whitley Stokes first discovered it on that bookstall. 

But why was this slim book of poems such a massive hit in the late 19th and early 20th century? 

It’s effectively a day in the life; the opening rubāʿī describes the start of new day in the early part of the year, the dawn sun touching the Sultan’s Turret in an unnamed Persian town, a cock crowing and — in subsequent quatrains — a group of people waiting eagerly for the tavern to open. The poet wanders this town, enjoying a cup of wine and musing on the nature of existence. 

XLVII

And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,

End in the Nothing all Things end in—Yes—

Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what

Thou shalt be—Nothing—Thou shalt not be less.

(First edition, p. 56)

XXIV

Ah, make the most of what ye may spend,

Before we too into the Dust descend;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie

Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!

(Fourth edition, p, 76)

There was, at the time Fitzgerald published his first edition, a long-standing interest in Persian culture and the wider Orient, not least because of British imperial interests across the east and into India. The Persian language was used by the East India Company in provincial governments and courts until the 1830s. Sir William Jones’s various translations and his A grammar of the Persian language (1771) influenced the generations that followed. For example, the Jones translation of the 8th century Mu’allaqat inspired Alfred Tennyson to write his Locksley Hall (1835). Tennyson was, in turn, a friend of Edward Fitzgerald.

That context is useful but doesn’t explain the particular appeal of the Rubaiyat. What made this text stand out?

Note that in the two quatrains quoted above there’s no mention of an afterlife. The In Our Time episode on the Rubaiyat and Sadeq Saba in his 2010 documentary The Genius of Omar Khayyam explore this issue of godlessness. Fitzgerald published his first edition in 1859, the same year that Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species, at a time when there was already much interest in “long time” — ancient, geological history stretching back millions and billions of years, far further than accounted for by a literal reading of the Bible. These ideas were controversial. On In Our Time, the suggestion is made that Fitzgerald couldn’t have published a work of his own (supposed) agnostic, perhaps even atheistic, musings without inviting scandal; Khayyam enabled him to do so at a safe remove. Readers could also engage in such ideas without breaking from the Church.

I can see, too, that there’s an appeal in the world conjured here: a rich culture different from that of the late Victorians, and seemingly more free. The In Our Time episode talks about the wider allure of Orientalism to the late Victorians, notably in the sensuous hedonism of the harem. I don’t think there’s much licentiousness in the Rubaiyat, beyond the idea that the poet says to drink and enjoy wine while we can. But there’s an allure in any different, rich culture in which we can escape and be immersed — like the appeal of Middle Earth or sci-fi or Regency novels. Once entranced, there’s always more to steep yourself in: the history and rules, the minutiae, the power politics in wrangling among other true believers. (The same might be true of the football terrace, too.)

There are often good reasons why someone actively seeks such escape. In Our Time cites Fitzgerald’s close friendship with Professor Edward Byles Cowell; the first edition is in part a translation of the Persian quatrains Cowell found while in Calcutta and sent to Fitzgerald, their correspondence apparently suggestive of how keenly the two men felt their separation. We can read something into this, just as readers of the Rubaiyat could read their own hopes and desires into the tantalising world it conjured. It’s a frame in which things are possible that would not be dared outside.

But maybe the appeal isn’t nearly so immersive. This kind of “enjoy life while you can” stuff is not a world away from “live, laugh love”. That such aphorisms here derive from some ancient, eastern scholar confers authenticity and value to what a cynic might otherwise see as greetings-card wisdom. And there’s also something haunting in this voice from what’s now almost a thousand years ago exhorting us to enjoy our existence and to live while we can.

In fact, we’re not sure Omar Khayyam really said the things attributed to him. It’s not just that many of the surviving quatrains in Persian give no indication of author, but Fitzgerald took a very free hand in translating the texts he had to hand, reordering and rewording them, grafting in bits that sound like the Book of Common Prayer (compare the last quatrain I quoted to the famous “dust to dust...”) and Shakespeare. That might not resonate so much with us now as it did with late Victorian readers. Moulded in their own language, no wonder they felt that this text out of the long past spoke to them so directly.

The real Omar Khayyam — full name Ghiyāth al-Dīn Abū al-Fatḥ ʿUmar ibn Ibrāhīm Nīsābūrī — is no less fascinating than this mythic version. 

“Better known for his poetry, it often surprises many to learn that Omar Khayyam (1048-1131) was one of the greatest of all medieval mathematicians,” says Jim Al-Khalili in his book Pathfinders — The Golden Age of Arabic Science (2010). He cites Khayyam’s work on cubic equations in Treatise on Demonstration of Problems of Algebra, including “both algebraic and geometric methods for solving them systematically and elegantly, using the method of conical sections (which involves slicing through a cone at different angles to produce different types of curves such as circles, ellipses, parabolas and hyperbolas)” (p. 122).

I’m familiar with conic sections being used to make sense or orbits, whether those of celestial bodies or the rockets and craft trying to reach them, and wonder how much of Khayyam survives in the mechanics of the space age.

Khayyam was also part of a team that, with cutting-edge technology such as the astrolabe, calculated the length of the year with much greater accuracy than the contemporary Gregorian model; indeed, the Jalali calendar devised by Khayyam and his colleagues was still in use into the 20th century. In addition, Al-Khalili quotes a long passage from one of Khayyam’s other surviving works, more reliably attributed to him than his poetry, extolling the virtues of seeking the truth — and acknowledging that people will mock you for doing so. It’s quoted at length because it expresses a sentiment that Al-Khalili recognises now, the voice of the exasperated scientist ringing down to us through the ages.

I can see why this little book of poetry, written by an influential mathematician, would have appealed to JE Littlewood, and why he chose it as a gift for an 11 year-old. It bears a simple, four-word inscription, “Ann, from Uncle John”, and the date. But what he was giving her was a guide to life, and a frame in which unconventional ideas and conversations are possible. And that was important because, as the inscription shows, he’d not yet admitted what was known within the family: that Ann was his daughter.

But perhaps I’m just the latest in a long line to read into this little book what I want to see. 

Doctor Who and the Left-Handed Hummingbird, by Kate Orman

Someone is meddling with time. That means that when an Aztec warrior ventures into a long abandoned Exxilon spaceship, he isn't instantly killed by the radiation bleeding from its systems. Instead, Huitzilin - his name meaning "southern warrior" and also "left-handed hummingbird" - becomes something like a god. Some 500 years later, the Doctor and his friends arrive in Mexico City in 1994 to find they're late for an adventure and must head back to multiple points in time to catch up...

I've not read The Left-Handed Hummingbird since it was first published in November 1993 - the official publication date was December, but there's a moment in this that I suddenly, madly remembered first reading the night before my driving test so it must have been out the month before. Yet this odd, extraordinary book scored its way into my brain. Reading it again after more than 30 years, it was immediately, vividly familiar, like catching up with an old friend.

Two things surprised me. First, for what I remember as Kate Orman's radical debut, the plot is quite straightforward, even slight. The Doctor and his pals Ace and Bernice are on the trail of "the Blue", ie Huitzilin, which has the power to take people over and make them violent. That includes the Doctor and his friends - all providing Huitzilin with fuel so that he can become corporeal once more. But the more the Doctor is taken over, the more he can see what Huitzilin thinks and feels. And the more Huitzilin becomes corporeal, the more he can be tackled head on...

What makes this so different is the way that it's told, beginning in 1994 - the future, when the book was published - and then dancing back to multiple points in time to piece together the story. Telling a story out of order was a big innovation, perhaps oddly for a long-running series about gadding back and forth in time. And then the novel makes us realise that the pieces don't quite fit because time is in flux and changing. I'm conscious now, as I wasn't at the time, how big an influence this was on my debut novel.

The way it's told includes things we'd never do today. The violence is horrific and vivid, rather than PG or 12A. The Doctor takes magic mushrooms and LSD to communicate with his enemy. One of his companions is a gun-totting solder who kills people with little qualm and reneges on her agreement with the Doctor not to use violence; the other companion kills a man by bashing him with a cooking implement. This book is all set on Earth and yet reading it is a journey to another world.

Secondly, the book is chock-full of references to other Doctor Who, on TV and in print. That's not a criticism - these were books squarely aimed at fans, and I ate up this continuity with greed at the time but was grateful to the entry on this novel in the Cloister Library when trying to remember other books I've not read in more than 30 years. For the most part, you don't need to be able to place these references to enjoy or be caught up in the story. But then there are the exceptions. 

I think the assumed/required knowledge of the reader is 1964 story The Aztecs, which was  readily available to fans at the time of publication having been released on BBC Video on 2 November 1992, and 1974 story Death to the Daleks, released on video July 1987. These  TV stories also inspired two of the best novelisations, too. This kind of thing occupies my head a lot in what I write day to day - how much we can assume fixed points of Doctor Who, the nodes by which we all navigate, as opposed to the obscure stuff that is manna for the dork hardcore (my people). See, for example, what I said about authority as it relates to The Unfolding Text.

But also, amazingly, there are several references to other Doctor Who stories here that the Cloister Library doesn't cover. Perhaps fittingly for a story that plays with chronology and the unfixedness of time, there are the references in this novel to multiple Doctor Who stories from after it was published. When the Doctor is gravely wounded, his friends are asked why they don't rush him to hospital.

"'Because he's from outer crukking space,' spat Bernice. 'A crukking twentieth-century hospital would probably do a crukking brilliant job of killing him.'" (p. 177)

Which, of course, is exactly what happens to kill off this incarnation of the Doctor in the TV movie Doctor Who (1996). Later in the novel, Ace pulls out her gun only to find that the Doctor has swapped it for a potato, years ahead of him pulling the same trick (with a banana) on Captain Jack in The Doctor Dances (2005). Then the TARDIS lands on Abbey Road (p. 201), as it does in The Devil's Chord (2024).

A few other small things occur. Bernice Summerfield, a 26th-century archaeologist of the 20th century, doesn't know what pizza is (p. 71) or how to open tins (p. 73), and doesn't have much to do. When she reveals, at the end, that she doesn't get to do much archaeology while travelling in time and is thinking of leaving the TARDIS, I could well understand why. I doubt I was conscious of all this when I first read the novel; now I'm all too aware of the note from my editors to ensure the regular characters are always well served.

Something very of its time is the frequency with which the author refers to the Doctor as "the Time Lord". Yes, she also refers to Bernice as "the archaeologist" (p. 238) and Cristian as "the Mexican" (p. 259), but there are far more second mentions of the Doctor as Time Lord, which I don't think a Doctor Who novelist would do now. If nothing else, this incarnation of the Doctor, in the crumpled linen suit of the novels, is one of the least assuming Doctors visually, a man we'd fail to notice in a crowd who is yet a near god-like alien in our midst. Referring to him, a lot, as "the Time Lord" is a convention, a fashion, of the time when this novel was written but I think it'a also the wrong cue for what we "see" - as if this unassuming fellow were wearing a big robe and collar.

And then there's the other strong visual elicited by this reread: of me, aged 17, utterly absorbed by this book, this series, this gang of authors I so much wanted to be part of. There's a bit towards the end of the novel where the Doctor handles a powerful book that glows with light. It's been fun to return to this book that shone so brightly in my formative years and has stayed with me so long after. Thank you, Kate.

See also:

• My own, awful first idea for a Doctor Who novel which I submitted in 1994
• Me on the 1992 Doctor Who novel Nightshade by Mark Gatiss

Interview with Sefi Atta for Macfest

My interview last month with Sefi Atta, author of A Bit of Difference, is now available in full on YouTube.

The interview was part of Macfest; last year, for the same festival, I interviewed Fatima Manji about her book Hidden Heritage.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin

Various people recommended this captivating novel in which I’ve been completely immersed. That’s fitting, because it’s all about the solace of losing ourselves in something — computer games chiefly but also fiction, imagination and friendship.

Sadie Green meets Sam Masur (later Mazur) in hospital when they’re both children. They’re each going through some horrible, serious stuff at the time but bond while playing computer games. Sadie has also not been entirely honest with Sam. Despite a falling out, they reconnect during college and collaborate on a game of their own… 

We follow them for two decades through the highs and lows of their lives, the loves and losses and games.

It’s beautifully written and wryly observed, noting changes to games and the surrounding culture over the period. It’s also full of nuance: we can see Sadie’s tutor is a manipulative predator; she learns to see that, too, but remains his friend. For all he’s a monster, he’s a person, too.

At the heart of the novel is Sam and Sadie’s sparky relationship. At best, they are funny and supportive; at worst, they are jealous or brood on perceived slights. There are several recurring jokes, such as one — based on an old computer game — that Sadie has died of dysentery, which is part of their childhood banter and then gets dropped to blinding effect again on page 440.

In fact, it is constantly smart and funny, the wit all from the perspective of particular characters so also revealing about them and their understanding of the world. For example, there’s Sam in a particular crisis wishing he could reprogram his brain in the way he might fix a game.

“Unfortunately, the human brain is every bit as closed a system as a Mac.” (p. 228)

There’s lots of telling details, too, on the games these characters play — real and imaginary — and on their respective, mixed heritage: Sam’s Korean grandparents run a pizza place in K-Town, a district Sadie has never heard of when she first meets him, though she lives in a nearby part of LA. Later, they make a game out of separate but intersecting worlds.

The novel isn’t quite in chronological order, which allows it to tease the reader with key revelations to come. We jump ahead to interviews with Sam and Sadie looking back on their life and work. Or there’s the moment on page 190 when, in a scene set in the pizza place run by Sam’s grandparents, there’s the briefest mention of a poster on the wall: a 1980s advert showing a woman drinking a Korean beer. Twelve pages later, we learn the significance of this photograph — a gut punch of a revelation.

For a book about something as apparently unserious as playing games — a viewpoint it addresses several times — it is richly profound. More than once, we see the way games help people in real-life crisis. Sometimes, games have other impacts on real life, which I won’t spoil here. But it’s all utterly compelling; I read the last 100 pages on a plane yesterday, my heart in my mouth.

On that point, I can understand why the blurb and publicity don’t make a thing about this all being about games. That might put off readers who aren’t into games (I’m not, especially) — but can still be enthralled by the story being told.

One last idle thought. In her notes and acknowledgements at the end, author Gabrielle Zevin says that in referencing life-life computer games throughout the novel,

“I chose the games that made the most sense for the story, even when the dates were slightly wrong.” (p. 481)

That may illuminate an early reference that caught my eye. We’re told that Sam’s possessions in 1995 include, 

“an aging desktop computer with a Doctor Who sticker on one side and a Dungeons and Dragons sticker on the other” (p. 67)

I wonder when Sam, aged 21 at this point, got into Doctor Who — a year before the TV movie kindled a new fandom and brought many lapsed fans back from the fray. I assume he was watching late-night on PBS. Did he find other like-minded fans, in real life or online, in the way he played Dungeons and Dragons with others? And when did his interest wane? Doctor Who never gets mentioned again.

Whotopia #43

Issue 43

The new issue of free online Doctor Who fanzine Whotopia* is now available, and includes a tribute to the late actor William Russell plus "Exciting Adventures" - an interview with me by Reecy Pontiff.

• Download Whotopia #43 (PDF)
• Whotopia website
• Reecy Pontiff's website

* Not to be confused with the book Whotopia for which I did some of the writing.

Follow Your Curiosity podcast #241

I'm interviewed by Nancy Norbeck on the latest episode of the Follow Your Curiosity podcast, which you can find on YouTube and all these podcasty places.

Nancy says:

The Evolving Landscape of AI in the Arts 

My guest this week is Simon Guerrier, a writer and producer who has written numerous books related to Doctor Who, produced five documentaries for BBC radio, and more than 70 audio plays for Big Finish Productions, as well as comics and short stories. He also chairs the Books Committee for the Writers' Guild of Great Britain. Simon talks with me about how he got his start in writing and producing—including just what a producer does—the value of negotiating arrangements that work in everyone’s best interest, the impact of new tools like ChatGPT on creative careers and the creative process, his new book about television pioneer David Whitaker, and more. 

Yellowface, by RF Kuang

Bestselling author Athena Liu asks her friend June Hayward to look over a manuscript she has written using an old, manual typewriter - the only version of Liu's new novel. When Liu suddenly dies, Hayward must decide what to do with a book that no one else knows even exists. The draft isn't good enough in its current state, Hayward decides, so begins to revise it. Soon she has claimed the work as her own and things begin to snowball...

This fast-moving satire of the issues of racial diversity in publishing and on social media kept me entertained as I drove to and from a work thing this week. It reminded me a bit of Patricia Highsmith, though here the narrator not so much unreliable as unobservant, failing to pick up on things that made me gasp or cringe, often because she's too eager to defend her actions and motives. She details her own anxiety, triggered by hostile behaviour experienced in person or online, but often misses the impact of her actions, such as in complaining about a junior member of publishing staff or harshly critiquing the work of a high school student.

Our narrator isn't the only character to behave badly; it's a world of self-interested, prickly people with fixed smiles (in that sense, the other thing it reminded me of was the recent Doctor Who episode, Dot and Bubble). I've seen a few reviews claim Yellowface is too on-the-nose or that June Hayward's character lacks depth - and then miss some elements that are not spelled out. Hayward's relationship with Liu is complex; Liu is herself a complex and sometimes disquieting figure. It's continually, compellingly not straightforward.

Novel Experiences

Out now, two new documentaries tell the story of the original Doctor Who novels published 1991-2005. A load of editors and authors (including me) are interviewed, most of us while at the Novel Experiences convention run by WHOOVERS in Derby on 13 May last year.

• Novel Experiences: The Virgin Books Adventures
• Novel Experiences: The BBC Books Adventures

I loved those books which, more than anything else, made me a writer today. I was one of the last first-time writers to be commissioned for one, right at the end of the BBC line. What a thrill to be included in the line-up, to count such brilliant people as peers.

Standing: John Peel, Jeremy Hoad, Colin Brake, Nick Walters, Daniel Blythe, Peter Anghelides, Steve Cole, Simon Guerrier, Paul Magrs, Martin Day, Mark Morris, Andrew Hunt, Simon Messingham, Paul Ebbs. Seated: Mags L Halliday, Robert Dick, Steve Lyons, Nigel Robinson

If this is your sort of thing, alas my book covering some of this history, Bernice Summerfield - The Inside Story, is now long out of print but David J Howe's The Who Adventures: The Art and History of Virgin Publishing’s Doctor Who Fiction is still available - and gorgeous.

BSFA Award longlist

My book David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television is one of 24 titles longlisted for best non-fiction (long) in this year's British Science Fiction Association's awards. It's a thrill to be noticed, and to be included in such auspicious company - including several mates.

Voting is open to members of the BSFA, who can select up to four works per category. There will then be a shortlist, and winners announced at the Levitation Eastercon event over the weekend of 29 March - 1 April. Details and voting form at the BSFA site.

What with life and lockdown, I've been a bit out of the loop with all things BSFA, though I used to regularly review books for its magazine Vector and attend its events in London. In September 2015, I was the subject of one of those events, interviewed by Professor Edward James, who'd overseen the Masters degree in science-fiction I did 1997-98. 

Here's an on-its-side recording, from that ancient bygone age.

The Power of 3 podcast #172

I chatted to Kenny Smith for the latest episode of the Power of 3 podcast. As well as asking me about my new book David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television, Kenny and his co-hosts Dave, John and Steevie discuss their favourite Doctor Who stories written by David.

• Power of 3 podcast #172: David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television

The Daleks in Colour and Kennedy's "Survivors"

Watching the glorious The Daleks in Colour last night, I was especially struck by the bleakness of the story and world, a tale of nuclear holocaust made in an age when that was a stark possibility. As my chum Toby Hadoke pointed out to me a while ago, the second episode of the original serial, “The Survivors” (in which we first see the Daleks), was recorded on the evening of 22 November 1963, just hours after the cast and crew learned of the assassination of President John F Kennedy and the whole world seemed poised on a knife-edge.

This week, a post by Letters of Note started off a chain of thoughts. Following Kennedy's death, his widow Jacqueline wrote to Nikita Khrushchev, Premier of the Soviet Union:

“I know how much my husband cared about peace, and how the relation between you and him was central to this care in his mind. He used to quote your words in some of his speeches - 'In the next war the survivors will envy the dead.'”

Khrushchev seems to have been credited for this evocative phrase in the 20 July 1963 issue of Pravda (I've not been able to check this but it says so here). Whatever the case, President Kennedy quickly picked up on the phrase, quoting it on 26 July in his radio and television address to the US people on the nuclear test ban treaty - a transcript and recording can be found on the website of the John F Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum. 

“A war today or tomorrow, if it led to nuclear war, would not be like any war in history. A full-scale nuclear exchange, lasting less than 60 minutes, with the weapons now in existence, could wipe out more than 300 million Americans, Europeans and Russians, as well as untold numbers elsewhere. And the survivors, as Chairman Khrushchev warned the Communist Chinese, 'the survivors would envy the dead.' For they would inherit a world so devastated by explosions and poison and fire that today we cannot even conceive of its horrors.”

These words were very widely reported, such as in the Daily Telegraph the following day (it's a front-page story, but the line about survivors is on p. 16 where the news story continues). That was on Saturday, 27 July 1963 and, despite what Kennedy said, I think people could very well imagine the horrors. Surely it can't be a coincidence that this was probably also the weekend over which Terry Nation wrote his 26-page storyline for a Doctor Who serial at that point entitled "The Survivors".

The storyline does not include a date but we can deduce when Nation wrote it from two surviving documents in the BBC's Written Archives Centre. On 30 July, BBC Head of Serials Donald Wilson produced notes for a preliminary meeting about the promotion of Doctor Who and listed the first three serials then currently planned: the caveman adventure The Tribe of Gum aka An Unearthly Child, the ultimately unmade The Robots and the story that became Marco Polo. 

The following day, story editor David Whitaker produced one-paragraph synopses of these three stories - plus a newly commissioned fourth one: Nation's serial was now under the title “The Mutants.” So: Nation wrote the storyline over the weekend, surely influenced by the leading news story and Kennedy's evocative phrase, then met with Whitaker on the Monday or Tuesday and was commissioned for the story.

One more thing, which I mentioned yesterday in my interview with BBC News (and tweeted back in July). Nation’s thrilling, 26-page storyline, on the basis on which scripts were commissioned, used the words “execution”, “elimination” and “extinction”. Whitaker summarised the plot in one paragraph for his colleagues, and used a word Nation had not: “exterminated”. 

Source: Asa Briggs, Competition, p. 418. My book David Whitaker in an Exciting Adventure with Television is out now.