A new collection of short stories that investigates the causes and effects of the universe’s ebbs and flows.
1 Comment
Styre
on May 9, 2016 at 3:10 AM
SHORT TRIPS: DEFINING PATTERNS
It’s interesting to take a step back every so often to appreciate the scale of what Big Finish accomplished: what started as an avenue to produce short stories in the vein of the Decalog and BBC Short Trips collections eventually transformed into the only regularly available source of Doctor Who prose aimed at the same audience as the previous novels. “Defining Patterns” was the twenty-third volume in the series, and the first released in 2008 — and it’s another successful entry with a number of worthwhile stories.
Machine Time — George Ivanoff — Very well-written, and intriguingly forboding, but it seems like it’s laying the groundwork for a story that will never be told. It fits in well with the themes of the anthology, of course, but provoked little more than a confused shrug from me.
The Time and Tide — Neil Corry — Not sure I like the choice of narrator here. It’s certainly believable from that perspective, but the narrator’s confusion passes too easily to the reader, giving the story a disjointed feel. However, the almost-mythical presence of the seventh Doctor ties everything together, and that’s my favorite way to portray my favorite Doctor, so I’m biased in the story’s favor.
Losing the Audience — Mat Coward — Great stuff. It’s fun to watch the pre-“Unearthly Child” first Doctor, with little hints of his future “humanity” poking through his intractable exterior, and Susan serving as his energetic arm into society. The ending is a particular delight, especially after the Doctor’s emphatic denial of the significance of coincidence.
One Card for the Curious — Xanna Eve Chown — Fascinating, and well-structured: we see the Tarot reading through Ace’s eyes, fall under its spell, then learn from the Doctor in rapid succession that a) it shouldn’t work and b) it does, because the reader is truly a psychic. The conclusion strikes the anthology’s uneasy balance between fate and free will, and this is the ideal Doctor-companion pairing for this story.
Seance, or Smoking is Highly Addictive, Don’t Start — John Davies — Another seventh Doctor story, but not as successful, this story feels twee and forced. The narrator spells everything out up until the end, and the Doctor having access to a list of everyone’s deaths is too obvious a plot device. Ultimately, it doesn’t work.
The Celestial Harmony Engine — Ian Briggs — Yet another seventh Doctor story, this one written by the author of the sublime “The Curse of Fenric” — and it’s quite good. The relationship between Ramiro and Isabel is tied into the story in expert fashion, with only the ending (the engine was a woman all along!) jarring with the rest.
Mutiny — Robert Dick — Why can’t we have more first-person Harry Sullivan stories? Fantastic work — Dick perfectly captures Harry’s perspective and outlook — and my only complaint is that it’s far too short and I wanted to spend more time in its world.
Numb — Dave Owen — I probably shouldn’t have liked this as much as I did, given the incredibly obvious resolution, but Owen captures the third Doctor/Sarah relationship so well, and so expertly describes the weight hanging from her shoulders, that it succeeds in spite of itself.
Closing the Account — Stephen Hatcher — Another seventh Doctor story, which I suppose shouldn’t be surprising in an anthology about fate. Forgive me if I’m misreading the story, though, but this is absolutely appalling: it reads as an apology for Josef Stalin, a statement that his innumerable crimes will one day be viewed in context as a regrettable but necessary step towards glorious revolution. Please tell me I’m misreading this, and that the Doctor was just lying to comfort a dying old man — if I’m not, Hatcher should be ashamed of himself.
The Great Escapes — Simon Guerrier — I like this: a brief snapshot of the life of Lucie Miller, struggling gamely against her captors to escape despite inevitable recapture. We know, by definition, that she lives, and thus the story isn’t about her survival but rather about her relationship with and faith in the Doctor, and his inevitable last-minute rescues. Its placement in this anthology also implies that these last-minute rescues are themselves functions of fate, something that warrants further exploration.
Loose Change — Steven Savile — Apart from the question of cleanliness, just imagine the journey an average coin must have taken to reach your pocket. Probably not as exciting as this, no, but I enjoy tales like this, which present a sort of chaos theory in practical terms.
Lepidoptery for Beginners — John Dorney — The tone seems to draw inspiration from Douglas Adams, given the cross between the mundane and the fantastic and the absurd names like Predicticon. Not a complaint, of course: the story is an easy, enjoyable read, with more than one laugh-out-loud moment and fantastic characterization of the Troughton-era regulars.
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back — Chris Thomas — I don’t find the story nearly as interesting as the implications: that the Doctor’s future selves can actually change history in such a manner that he experiences the changes as they occur. The story works, but I’m not sure this style could function regularly in Doctor Who — certainly that’s not how it’s approached on television.
Homework — Michael Coen — I love the style here, presenting the story as a child’s school paper on his summer vacation, including corrections and comments from the teacher. It’s also surprisingly heartfelt, despite the early comedic overtones — certainly Big Finish’s new writers competition can be deemed a success for producing a story like this.
The Devil Like a Bear — Brian Willis — Very odd. We see a glimpse into the Doctor’s past, involving him working as a Time Lord diplomat, wrapped around a fairly straightforward story involving an alien trapped by witch hunters. Not bad by any means, but it felt too forced to be truly successful.
Stanley — Lizzie Hopley — Absolutely fantastic. One of those concepts you’ll only see in Doctor Who: an ancient, terrible war criminal that looks like a big purple fish and is living in semi-captivity in an Earth aquarium. I also like the decision to frame fate as a function of genetics and race memory.
Twilight’s End — Cavan Scott and Mark Wright — I never read Project: Valhalla, so I don’t have the full backstory, but this story, essentially a long conversation between the Doctor and Nimrod, is a fine new chapter in the Forge series. After all, what driving forces have been more significant in the Doctor’s life than the villains his faces?
The Book of My Life — Ian Mond — Much like the story that opens the anthology, it ends on an unsure, foreboding note, but I am again forced to question the purpose: we’ve had several stories in this anthology which demonstrate that you can’t script anyone’s life, and there’s no hint of metafiction here to perhaps provide an outside explanation. Still, the image of the sixth Doctor being stripped of his distinctive garb and left with gray overalls matches well with the atmosphere and sense of threat.
Linking material — Ian Farrington — Entertaining material that maintains and reminds of the anthology’s linking theme. There are also a surprising number of references to earlier stories and anthologies, but none are intrusive or bothersome.
Overall, “Defining Patterns” is a successful entry in the Short Trips range. The stories struggle at times with the theme, probably because Doctor Who as a series has always kicked against the concept of predestination, but many address it in expert fashion. The average quality is quite high, and thus this anthology is recommended reading.
SHORT TRIPS: DEFINING PATTERNS
It’s interesting to take a step back every so often to appreciate the scale of what Big Finish accomplished: what started as an avenue to produce short stories in the vein of the Decalog and BBC Short Trips collections eventually transformed into the only regularly available source of Doctor Who prose aimed at the same audience as the previous novels. “Defining Patterns” was the twenty-third volume in the series, and the first released in 2008 — and it’s another successful entry with a number of worthwhile stories.
Machine Time — George Ivanoff — Very well-written, and intriguingly forboding, but it seems like it’s laying the groundwork for a story that will never be told. It fits in well with the themes of the anthology, of course, but provoked little more than a confused shrug from me.
The Time and Tide — Neil Corry — Not sure I like the choice of narrator here. It’s certainly believable from that perspective, but the narrator’s confusion passes too easily to the reader, giving the story a disjointed feel. However, the almost-mythical presence of the seventh Doctor ties everything together, and that’s my favorite way to portray my favorite Doctor, so I’m biased in the story’s favor.
Losing the Audience — Mat Coward — Great stuff. It’s fun to watch the pre-“Unearthly Child” first Doctor, with little hints of his future “humanity” poking through his intractable exterior, and Susan serving as his energetic arm into society. The ending is a particular delight, especially after the Doctor’s emphatic denial of the significance of coincidence.
One Card for the Curious — Xanna Eve Chown — Fascinating, and well-structured: we see the Tarot reading through Ace’s eyes, fall under its spell, then learn from the Doctor in rapid succession that a) it shouldn’t work and b) it does, because the reader is truly a psychic. The conclusion strikes the anthology’s uneasy balance between fate and free will, and this is the ideal Doctor-companion pairing for this story.
Seance, or Smoking is Highly Addictive, Don’t Start — John Davies — Another seventh Doctor story, but not as successful, this story feels twee and forced. The narrator spells everything out up until the end, and the Doctor having access to a list of everyone’s deaths is too obvious a plot device. Ultimately, it doesn’t work.
The Celestial Harmony Engine — Ian Briggs — Yet another seventh Doctor story, this one written by the author of the sublime “The Curse of Fenric” — and it’s quite good. The relationship between Ramiro and Isabel is tied into the story in expert fashion, with only the ending (the engine was a woman all along!) jarring with the rest.
Mutiny — Robert Dick — Why can’t we have more first-person Harry Sullivan stories? Fantastic work — Dick perfectly captures Harry’s perspective and outlook — and my only complaint is that it’s far too short and I wanted to spend more time in its world.
Numb — Dave Owen — I probably shouldn’t have liked this as much as I did, given the incredibly obvious resolution, but Owen captures the third Doctor/Sarah relationship so well, and so expertly describes the weight hanging from her shoulders, that it succeeds in spite of itself.
Closing the Account — Stephen Hatcher — Another seventh Doctor story, which I suppose shouldn’t be surprising in an anthology about fate. Forgive me if I’m misreading the story, though, but this is absolutely appalling: it reads as an apology for Josef Stalin, a statement that his innumerable crimes will one day be viewed in context as a regrettable but necessary step towards glorious revolution. Please tell me I’m misreading this, and that the Doctor was just lying to comfort a dying old man — if I’m not, Hatcher should be ashamed of himself.
The Great Escapes — Simon Guerrier — I like this: a brief snapshot of the life of Lucie Miller, struggling gamely against her captors to escape despite inevitable recapture. We know, by definition, that she lives, and thus the story isn’t about her survival but rather about her relationship with and faith in the Doctor, and his inevitable last-minute rescues. Its placement in this anthology also implies that these last-minute rescues are themselves functions of fate, something that warrants further exploration.
Loose Change — Steven Savile — Apart from the question of cleanliness, just imagine the journey an average coin must have taken to reach your pocket. Probably not as exciting as this, no, but I enjoy tales like this, which present a sort of chaos theory in practical terms.
Lepidoptery for Beginners — John Dorney — The tone seems to draw inspiration from Douglas Adams, given the cross between the mundane and the fantastic and the absurd names like Predicticon. Not a complaint, of course: the story is an easy, enjoyable read, with more than one laugh-out-loud moment and fantastic characterization of the Troughton-era regulars.
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back — Chris Thomas — I don’t find the story nearly as interesting as the implications: that the Doctor’s future selves can actually change history in such a manner that he experiences the changes as they occur. The story works, but I’m not sure this style could function regularly in Doctor Who — certainly that’s not how it’s approached on television.
Homework — Michael Coen — I love the style here, presenting the story as a child’s school paper on his summer vacation, including corrections and comments from the teacher. It’s also surprisingly heartfelt, despite the early comedic overtones — certainly Big Finish’s new writers competition can be deemed a success for producing a story like this.
The Devil Like a Bear — Brian Willis — Very odd. We see a glimpse into the Doctor’s past, involving him working as a Time Lord diplomat, wrapped around a fairly straightforward story involving an alien trapped by witch hunters. Not bad by any means, but it felt too forced to be truly successful.
Stanley — Lizzie Hopley — Absolutely fantastic. One of those concepts you’ll only see in Doctor Who: an ancient, terrible war criminal that looks like a big purple fish and is living in semi-captivity in an Earth aquarium. I also like the decision to frame fate as a function of genetics and race memory.
Twilight’s End — Cavan Scott and Mark Wright — I never read Project: Valhalla, so I don’t have the full backstory, but this story, essentially a long conversation between the Doctor and Nimrod, is a fine new chapter in the Forge series. After all, what driving forces have been more significant in the Doctor’s life than the villains his faces?
The Book of My Life — Ian Mond — Much like the story that opens the anthology, it ends on an unsure, foreboding note, but I am again forced to question the purpose: we’ve had several stories in this anthology which demonstrate that you can’t script anyone’s life, and there’s no hint of metafiction here to perhaps provide an outside explanation. Still, the image of the sixth Doctor being stripped of his distinctive garb and left with gray overalls matches well with the atmosphere and sense of threat.
Linking material — Ian Farrington — Entertaining material that maintains and reminds of the anthology’s linking theme. There are also a surprising number of references to earlier stories and anthologies, but none are intrusive or bothersome.
Overall, “Defining Patterns” is a successful entry in the Short Trips range. The stories struggle at times with the theme, probably because Doctor Who as a series has always kicked against the concept of predestination, but many address it in expert fashion. The average quality is quite high, and thus this anthology is recommended reading.