Breaking sequence here because this past weekend, we learned of the loss of Terrance Dicks, long-time Doctor Who writer and editor. He had some bad spots. That sort of unabashed Britishness that leans into things like pro-colonialist readings and gender politics that mostly consisted of, “feminists are bitchy”. But he was prolific and he was a serviceable writer with a gift for effectively condensing two to six hours of television into about a hundred and twenty-seven pages, and there’s multiple generations of geeky people (mostly men, admittedly) for whom his prose, just through the sheer volume of it, was a gateway to reading speculative fiction. I was one of them. He’s not my favorite author. In fact, his writing left very little specific impression on me at all, but it’s entirely possible that he’s the single author I have read the most total books by. So rest in peace, you young-old man with an open face. You will be missed.
My missus is Childrens’ Librarian in our local town and sadly when informed of his death replied, ” We don’t have any of his books on our shelves any more”
That’s a shame. Like many, he’s the writer whom I own the most books by. Elisabeth Sandifer once listed some of his great opening or closing lines and he could write some cracking stuff. Mac Hulke got me into the Dr Who line with “The Dinosaur Invasion” but Terry kept me there. So raise a glass to a man who entertained us for years, not always wisely, but well