Yesterday I pulled up my gumption and picked up the third and fourth Eighth Doctor trade paperbacks from Comic Relief, in Berkeley. They only had the two; still, I take what I can get. Having read through the third book, I’m… kind of floored by the quality of writing. My expectations were pretty low, yet this is some of the best Who I’ve encountered. Certainly better than most of the new series outside of the Davies/Moffat/Cornell trifecta. Certainly better than almost anything Big Finish has ever done. (Scherzo is still their crowning achievement.) It’s better than most of the classic series. And it’s a better use of its form than the few BBC novels I’ve read. (Granted, I’m becoming too much of a snob for novels in general; a crude form, that I’m convinced encourages all the worst creative impulses.)

I notice every story in these two books, save one, is written by a certain Scott Gray. (That remaining story is by Gareth Roberts.) He doesn’t seem to have done much else. Heck, Wikipedia suggests he wasn’t even so involved with the first two volumes, having picked up full-time about halfway through book two. And since then, all he seems to have done is one Ninth Doctor story. So this is kind of a bottle opus, looks like. He must’ve been saving up for a while.

I guess I can understand now why Davies initially gave the strip the option to regenerate the Eighth Doctor. This is excellent stuff.

Speaking of comics, an interesting step in the right direction (that is probably due to be overturned any minute now). Though frankly, Superman as a character should be public domain by now. It’s obscene that anyone, even the creators or their families, retain legal control over such an important (and old!) piece of national and world culture. We’re working on the best part of a century, now. We need a certain rational statute of limitations here. If cellophane can be a generic word, then “Happy Birthday” should be exempt from performance limitations.

Anyway, I can hear Thomas Jefferson’s toes slowly uncurling.