A LETTER FROM . . .
If there's one thing I've learned, You can't please everybody, no matter how hard you try. I mean, I try my best to include everyone in these stories, but sometimes it isn't possible. Not that that stops people from writing in.
The other day I had a letter arrive. A letter of complaint, to be exact. It reads as follows . . .
Dear Sir,
I write to you in the vain hope that you will be prepared to right a grievous wrong.
I've been reading some of your stories recently - very good, I thought. Especially the way you tackle the Brigadier. But I have noticed a trend developing which I feel must be nipped in the bud. Of all the characters included in these stories, there appears to be no mention of me. All my other selves, yes. But apart from the odd mention I don't seem to get much of a look in. I must confess I didn't notice this at first - it was only when a friend started reading them that she pointed out the omission.
It isn't as if other fan writers have shied away from me. Am I that difficult to write for? Surely not. If only the chap who played me on television hadn't been so young and appeared so wet, then perhaps I might have been portrayed a bit better. Only towards the end of his run was I seen as heroic, and then only in the last few minutes. Still, one mustn't complain too much. At least I'm written well by other writers, whether it be on the net or in novels.
Anyway, must dash. Someone is pursuing me, and for once it isn't Daleks or Cybermen. No, this threat is of the Earthbound variety. Apparently, a solicitor is trying to serve a paternity suit on me, on the absurd notion that I've fathered a child.
Well, obviously it isn't true. I mean, how could it be? I haven't indulged in that sort of thing for all my lives. Well, apart from that one time with Te . . . ah.
Time to go, I think!
The Doctor.
P.S. If you do get around to including me in your work, don't mention . . . well, you know.
If there's one thing I've learned, You can't please everybody, no matter how hard you try. I mean, I try my best to include everyone in these stories, but sometimes it isn't possible. Not that that stops people from writing in.
The other day I had a letter arrive. A letter of complaint, to be exact. It reads as follows . . .
Dear Sir,
I write to you in the vain hope that you will be prepared to right a grievous wrong.
I've been reading some of your stories recently - very good, I thought. Especially the way you tackle the Brigadier. But I have noticed a trend developing which I feel must be nipped in the bud. Of all the characters included in these stories, there appears to be no mention of me. All my other selves, yes. But apart from the odd mention I don't seem to get much of a look in. I must confess I didn't notice this at first - it was only when a friend started reading them that she pointed out the omission.
It isn't as if other fan writers have shied away from me. Am I that difficult to write for? Surely not. If only the chap who played me on television hadn't been so young and appeared so wet, then perhaps I might have been portrayed a bit better. Only towards the end of his run was I seen as heroic, and then only in the last few minutes. Still, one mustn't complain too much. At least I'm written well by other writers, whether it be on the net or in novels.
Anyway, must dash. Someone is pursuing me, and for once it isn't Daleks or Cybermen. No, this threat is of the Earthbound variety. Apparently, a solicitor is trying to serve a paternity suit on me, on the absurd notion that I've fathered a child.
Well, obviously it isn't true. I mean, how could it be? I haven't indulged in that sort of thing for all my lives. Well, apart from that one time with Te . . . ah.
Time to go, I think!
The Doctor.
P.S. If you do get around to including me in your work, don't mention . . . well, you know.