Writing a story about the Time Lord alongside a novel for grownups was a refreshing reminder of the joys of imagination
As some of you may know, a few weeks ago a Doctor Who novel of mine saw the light of day. If you’re not a Whovian, or were unaware that the characters have a fictional life away from your telly in all manner of books – well, now you know. Back in the days when I was a kid, there were novelisations of the series that one could save up for or ask one’s parenets to buy and which one could then search for moments of genuine contact with alien minds, or use to replay adventures that had seemed especially adventurous, or who knows … perhaps young readers enjoyed the available evocations of wearing velvet and/or plastic tabards and wading across moorland, or running in quarries. Doctor Who always featured those activities extensively in my youth.
Then the show was cancelled. But those who loved it wanted it to stay around and therefore kept it alive in book form.
Related: Doctor Who 'should never be played by a woman', says novelist AL Kennedy
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