It’s Not Who, It’s You.

We’re just over halfway through Peter Capaldi’s first series as the incumbent Doctor, and the online community has, as always, shared a wide range of opinions on the episodes presented so far. Doctor Who wouldn’t be Doctor Who if it didn’t split opinion, and attract a wide range of praise and criticism . I have agreed with some, and disagreed with others. I would happily exclaim my delight at an episode I loved, and would be equally vociferous about an episode I didn’t. I have however found myself of late stepping back into the shadows (to paraphrase the Eleventh Doctor), not because I became too big or noisy, but because I found I had been spending more time finding things to criticise than I did actually just sitting down with a drink watching the bloody thing. I’m not a critic. There are plenty of other people paid to do that. I’m a fan.

Some criticisms I’m seeing this time round though have started to infuriate me. I have no problem whatsoever if you don’t like the storylines. I have no problem if the Twelfth Doctor isn’t for you. I don’t even have a problem if you’re not happy with the writing or the acting. These are always going to be debated, and everyone’s opinion is always valid. What I would suggest is that if you don’t like ANY of the storylines, the Doctor, the writing, acting or directing (and some commenters are even criticising the theme tune and the opening credits), then perhaps this show isn’t for you.

I was 14 years old when I first heard Radiohead’s music. It was March 1995 – their second album ‘The Bends’ had just been released, and I was at a friend’s house listening to it in silent rapture after he’d bought it from the local Our Price. I remember being taken aback by it; I had been brought up on Roxette, Phil Collins and Simply Red at home, and even when I discovered music of my own it tended to be relatively easy listening, melodic pop gubbins. My CD collection was full of Oasis, Blur, Pulp, the usual Britpop stuff. That was my ‘jam’. So to hear an album like The Bends, with Thom Yorke’s astonishing falsetto over Jonny Greenwood’s furious lead guitar, chord changes that utterly take you by surprise and a rhythm section so tight you’d swear the players were mentally connected, was more than just a breath of fresh air. It changed entirely the way I heard music.

After a few weeks of barely doing anything else but listening to The Bends, I sought out Radiohead’s earlier album, ‘Pablo Honey’. I recall being surprised at the feel of the songs immediately. They were much lighter in tone, more predictable perhaps, certainly more accessible than The Bends. It wasn’t one of the best albums I ever heard, nor did I dislike it (some of the tracks on there are among my favourite Radiohead songs), but it was instantly clear how the band had changed the direction of their music for the second album.

Two years later I, like a great many of my peers, rushed out and bought OK Computer on the day of release. I remember at the time there was much talk of people hoping for The Bends 2, as was I if I’m honest. I rushed home clutching a copy of the CD, locked myself in my room and stuck it on. It was…different. On first listen, I thoroughly enjoyed parts of it. Other parts just sounded cold, and sparse. It sounded nothing like The Bends, and I was ultimately a little disappointed. I listened again. And again. The more I listened, the more I enjoyed, with the result that to this day, OK Computer remains my all-time favourite album. I found it difficult even to write this paragraph, simply because I can’t believe there was ever a time I wasn’t utterly in love with that record.

Radiohead’s music changed again with the release of Kid A. I bought it on the same day I was going to see them play live in Warrington (in a big top, no less). I listened for the first time at the same friend’s house where I’d heard The Bends that first time. I hated it. I wasn’t just disappointed by it on first listen. I just couldn’t stand it, from the first track to the last. It had nothing of the Radiohead I’d grown to love, and if I’d thought OK Computer had been sparse in places, this just seemed to be an electronic mess. Programmed drum beats, very little in the way of thrashing, gnarled guitars, and I was searching in vain for a melody. That’s it, I thought. Radiohead’s sound had changed so much that I no longer liked them. I was gutted. I went to the gig that night thoroughly despondent, expecting to be holding my hands over my ears most of the time. It turned out to be one of the most fantastic concerts I have ever been lucky enough to attend. I don’t remember a whole lot of it, but I recall having a dance and a sing-along, moshing one minute and wiping a tear from my eye the next. These were the same songs I’d been listening to with such despair earlier that same day.

On waking the next day I listened to Kid A again. I won’t say I had instantly warmed to it, but my god did I get it. Over the next few weeks I found more and more to enjoy in the album, and similar to my experience with OK Computer, it’s now one of my favourite albums. It’s actually an astonishing record, one I would recommend to anyone who hasn’t heard it.

I should start heading to some semblance of a point.

Following Kid A, Radiohead released Amnesiac the following year, then Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows. With each release came with a new style, a new direction; they were experimental, trying to push the accepted norms when it came to rock music. Each album resulted in them gaining fans and losing fans, as the rock guitars and heavy choruses gave way to dense, trippy electronica. Although from past experiences I knew that every new album would be a challenge, I found myself after a while feeling less connected to the band and their music, and despite occasional returns to the style I had grown to love, they inevitably headed in a direction I no longer found entertaining. This came to a head with King of Limbs, an album I have tried to enjoy so many times, but to no avail. It’s very much Radiohead, it got favourable reviews, it’s a popular album with many of my fellow Radiohead fans, but it’s simply not for me. It’s not a bad album. The band haven’t lost their ability – it simply caters for an audience other than my own. This is no issue to Radiohead. They will make many, many more fans from King of Limbs than they will lose. I certainly won’t be calling for Thom Yorke’s head.

Which brings me to Doctor Who. Since the show’s first regeneration from William Hartnell into Patrick Troughton, each Doctor’s era has ushered in a new style, a new feel. There’s the young, friendly one; the old, grumpy one; the action one; the egomaniacal one, and so on. There’s the Pertwee era with a huge proportion of it based entirely on Earth. There’s the whole Colin Baker series based around the ‘Trial’. There are certain mainstays, such as the TARDIS, the companion and the Daleks et al which makes this programme what it is, but we have a different kind of Doctor and a different kind of show every time, possibly never more so than with series eight.

At the time of writing the BBC have transmitted 7 episodes of series eight. That’s 6 different writers, with their stories directed by 3 different directors. We’ve had settings in space, Victorian London, a present day school, 15th/16t Century Sherwood Forest, and inside a Dalek. We’ve seen Gallifrey (or have we?) and we’ve had pre-existing and brand new enemies for the Doctor to face. The writers have even addressed the issue I had with the last series, and they’ve made Clara a much more layered personality. If you can’t find anything you like in any of that, then there’s only a certain amount of times you can blame Steven Moffat. I’m afraid you have to consider the possibility that the common denominator here is you. Perhaps you just don’t like Doctor Who anymore. You used to, of course you did. But it changes, it evolves. It’ll change again when Capaldi eventually regenerates, or the production team is replaced. I don’t get that benefit with Radiohead. The band are the band, they’re not going to change.

I’ve recently learned a phrase which accurately describes the nature of the Twitter commenters I’ve referred to in this post. It’s known as ‘confirmation bias’. I think it’s very well summarised by this cartoon:

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I would also throw in those folk who scour Twitter for posts they think matches their own in order to retweet them, and in doing so, try to prove a point. Confirmation bias is the act of ignoring anything which contradicts their own first impressions. It seems to me that there are some who have not enjoyed Doctor Who since Matt Smith left, or since David Tennant left (or, in one case I heard about, since Patrick Troughton left…) or indeed since Steven Moffat succeeded Russell T Davies as showrunner.

I’m not going to say that series eight has been perfect. Of course it hasn’t. One particular episode (Robot of Sherwood) irritated me no end. But then again I don’t recall the last series of Doctor Who that didn’t have one or two duff episodes as part of the run, and yes, I’m including series five in that. The problem is that some people are heading into the show already knowing that they want to hate it. Not everyone, obviously, but some. In doing that they’ll be looking out for anything negative, any line that doesn’t quite make sense, any plot hole which to anyone else would be barely recognisable. I saw one commenter this morning complaining that Kill The Moon didn’t accurately follow science, and therefore the episode lost credibility. This is a time-travel show, about an alien in a Police Box which is bigger on the inside who travels through time and space. There’s not a lot that follows actual science here. We can allow them a bit of creative licence.

I hate to say it, folks, but with this nihilistic outlook (regardless of who the showrunner is), you’ll never enjoy another episode again. But then, to quote that band I really used to like, ‘you do it to yourself, you do…and that’s what really hurts’.

Latersville.

Collectormania MK

I am in pain. A ridiculous amount of pain, all over my body. My shoulders, calves, hamstrings and arms all feel like I imagine it would feel if the muscles had been replaced with ball bearings and shards of broken glass. But as I sit here typing this, I am using the few working muscles I have left to maintain a contented smile on my face, following this weekend’s trip to Milton Keynes for Collectormania 19.

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I awoke at silly o’clock on Saturday morning, utilising the iPhone’s “silly o’clock” alarm setting, but still found myself 30 minutes behind schedule. It was 6am, and my train from Manchester Piccadilly was at 7.15. Jumping out of bed, swearing relentlessly a la Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral, I sorted myself out, showered, dressed, collected my bags, poster tubes and 8x10s and swiftly buggered off to the station. I was there with time to spare in the end, and took my seat on the train. One relatively uneventful trip along the tracks later, and I found myself at Milton Keynes Central just after 8.45.

There was no time to visit my hotel prior to heading to the MK Dons stadium, as the show opened at 9am and I needed to grab myself a virtual queue ticket for Jenna-Louise Coleman. I pegged it over to the bus stop and, for the second year running, found myself as the last passenger to fit onto the free bus which was seconds from setting off. Fifteen minutes or so later I was at the venue, which was worryingly queueless, and I was clueless as to where I needed to head to pick up my Jenna VQ. Two swift wrong turns later I finally entered the stadium and was promptly handed VQ ticket number 473,319 (alright, 636). I wasn’t overly concerned as I knew I’d be able to stay until the very end of the day if need be as I was staying overnight.

It wasn’t very long before I bumped into Emily, who I’d spoken to for ages through Twitter, but aside from the occasional distant wave across the hall at previous events, I’d not been able to chat to properly before. She’d made a TARDIS skirt for herself (it looked fantastic, Emily!) and she’d got in a little earlier so managed to get her VQ in the 400s. Luckily for me, she had spares, and was lovely enough to hand me one. So, my stress alleviated slightly, I spent the next few minutes generally walking around getting my bearings. Although the event was set in the circular concourse overlooking the pitch it’s actually quite tricky to work out exactly where you are. You get used to it after a while, but at first you’re just meandering, taking it all in. I had a couple of hours to spare, as my photoshoot with Jenna wasn’t until 11am, so meander I did.

After a couple of circuits around the stadium I came across Jenny, who again I’ve been chatting to for a while on Twitter, having realised I share a freakishly similar opinion on Doctor Who to her through her YouTube review channel (Lippmannette – check it out). We’d arranged earlier for me to join her crew, which included Laura, Andrew, Carolyn, Paul and Terry – all lovely, welcoming and friendly. As it was early in the day though I thought it would be best for me to wander around myself and get a few things done, as I am an utter irritant when it comes to things like this – I go one way, then turn around and go back on myself, then go back on myself again, pick things up, put them down etc – so I didn’t want to start putting new friends through that……

On my way around I bumped into Leanne who I’d spoken to a few times through Twitter, and who was sitting around waiting for her friend Matt (a tenth Doctor cosplayer, and a very good one at that) as he went for a photoshoot. Again, I’d never met Leanne in person before so it was great to put a voice to the name and face. We had a nice chat for a few minutes – she was carrying some amazing portraits her friend had done of the stars such as Jenna. They were incredible.

In what seemed hardly any time at all it was time for the photo with Jenna. As I entered the photoshoot room, I got my first glimpse of her, and good lord, she’s even smaller and prettier in real life than you’d think from the telly. I’d say more, but I don’t want this blog to get all pervy, so I’ll leave it there, and just show you this: –

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There’s always a little bit of worry after you’ve had your shoot (at least, there is for me) as you wait for your picture to be instantly printed out – just in case you’ve moved your eyes at the wrong time or you’ve got a huge green stringy snot hanging out of your nose – but I was pretty chuffed with that image. Jenna looks happier to see me than I do for her, but then again, I’m not surprised. I mean, check me out, seriously. Not a bit of snot anywhere.

The next hour or two is a little bit of a blur, if I’m honest. I didn’t have too much to do as the guests I was intendng to meet were spread over the two days, so it gave me the chance to have a look around the stalls. I wasn’t really planning on spending much on merchandise and memorabilia, as I had a stretched budget as it was, and this event came up just before payday, so I was being intentionally frugal. Still, it didn’t stop me heading back for repeated views of the Doctor Who figures on sale, and following trips to the bar for cheeky pints my wallet was getting slightly easier to open. I did resist though. For a while…..

After a not particularly pleasant cheeseburger, sold to me by a lad who bore more than a passing resemblance to Professor Brian Cox, I headed over to Jenna’s booth to get in line for my autograph. This didn’t take long at all, as she was flying through her queue, and while I barely got a chance to say more than “Hi Jenna” and “Cheers Jenna” I wasn’t bothered – like I’ve said before I never have much to say to the guests when I meet them, so the rapid in-out style of guest encounter is actually more comfortable for me. I did notice Jenna’s mum sat next to her however, who seemed to have a massive smile on her face, and from what I understand from Robert Llewellyn’s Twitter page (he was sat next to her) she was incredibly proud of her daughter. And fair play to her, her daughter’s not done half bad for herself. Here’s the lovely scribble Jenna shoved on my 8×10: –

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So the main auto and photo were obtained for the day, leaving me to decide whether to meet anyone else. I decided to limit myself to one extra autograph, and went to meet John Leeson, who was the voice of K9 throughout the history of Doctor Who, AND, as I learned later from Andrew, also played Bungle in the first series of Rainbow. And that’s enough of a dosage of legend I need to meet the fella. He was a very nice bloke, and signed my metallic TARDIS poster to go along with the Matt Smith and Frazer Hines autographs already on it. I’m building it with Doctors signing in silver, classic companions in black, and Nu-Who companions in gold. As I counted K9 as a ‘modern’ companion, having featured in some Tennant episodes, John signed in gold. It’s too big to scan in though, and I don’t like photos of posters, so I’ll leave it to your imagination.

After this, I rejoined Jenny, Laura et al and we nipped over to McDonalds for a drink. After a hard day’s autograph collecting, there’s nothing quite like a strawberry milkshake and a chat in the sun to sort you right back out again. Was one of my favourite parts of the day, this. Was great to be so easily welcomed into a group of people who essentially didn’t know me at all. But I guess this is the nature of conventions. Like-minded people from all walks of life getting together and sharing a common interest, often something you can’t really talk about with your mates at home. I intended to socialise at this convention, and I’m over the moon that I did.

By this time, a lot of the attendees had started to clear out, so we took the opportunity to bob back inside for a better look at the stalls. Again, I was good, and didn’t give in to temptation, despite my money starting to burn a hole in my pocket. All the things…..all the shiny things…….

So, as we’d come to the end of the day, we decided to head our separate ways. Andrew, Carolyn, Paul and Terry headed for the car (I think!) while Jenny, Laura and I got the free bus back to MK Central station, where they caught the…….

…..I’m sorry, I’m watching Ted as I write this, and I’m being distracted by the scene where Flash Gordon fights with Ming while Ted spars with a boxing duck.

…train, and I made my way over to the hotel. If you can call it that. Take a bow, Travelodge Milton Keynes Central. It reminded me of Richie and Eddie’s apartment in Bottom, except for the fact that they would have made better housemates than the clutch of utter buffoons who were seemingly surrounding me there. Bathroom light knackered, people running around in the room above, some twat outside revving his motorbike engine for half an hour, at midnight – basically the place was a dump. But then, I paid £25 for the night. What did I expect? Anyway, you don’t care about this.

So Sunday morning I’d set the silly o’clock alarm for silly o’clock again, and again I woke up at silly o’clock. Got all my shizzle together, showered in the dark and legged it down to the train station to get on the first free bus of the day at 7.30am. Amazingly I made it down there to find a very small group of like-minded folk waiting for the bus driver. Not so amazingly, it transpired that the first bus wasn’t leaving until 8.30, which miffed me slightly. Most of the folk on the bus, myself included, were intending to get to the stadium stupidly early to get into the queue for Billie Piper’s VQ ticket, and we were starting to worry a little. After a loooooong old wait we set off, and got to the stadium just before 9. The Billie queue was longer than my face was when I first saw it. With a sigh I joined the queue anyway and slowly followed it down toward the entrance. When I got there I was extremely surprised to be handed VQ number 306, as there looked to be a hell of a lot more people than that in front of me. Better still, within a matter of minutes they were calling for VQ numbers up to 350, so I got in line, met Billie and got my autograph by 9.50am. Amazeballs. Here it is:-

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I had no company at all on the Sunday, so I had nothing to do really except for wander round the same stalls as yesterday, watch a bit of football, occasionally charge my ridiculously short-living iPhone battery at one of the handy plug sockets located around the concourse, and do a bit of people watching. The cosplayers at these conventions amaze me every time – the effort they put into what they do is astonishing. The kids of course love it, but so do the adults. I saw numerous cosplayers who were more popular than some of the actors on show.

The time then came for me to queue up for my photoshoot with Billie Piper. I was right near the front of the queue, so I didn’t have to wait long. Just as I was approaching my turn, a fella I sort of recognised jumped in right in front of me. He introduced himself as Jason Joiner, the head honcho of Showmasters, and as such I thought sod it, he can do what he wants. I shook his hand and introduced myself, seemed like a nice bloke. After he’d been through I stood next to Billie, who was all smiles (again, no stringy snot anywhere) and they took this: –

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As I was walking away, the photographer did say that if there was too much flash in the lenses of my glasses I could bob back through for a reshoot – but on reflection (no pun intended) I wasn’t that fussed. It looked alright to me, and Billie looks great in the shot, so I was happy with it as it was. That’s the problem with having specs – I can never find the right way to pose in these things without getting a bit of flash in the lens. Still, nothing a bit of Photoshop can’t fix. And besides, like I said, I like it as it is.

After the Billie shoot, that was it. I had nothing else to do and nobody else to meet, so I just found myself wandering around all day. I had picked up a VQ for Bernard Cribbins, but it wasn’t the end of the world if I didn’t meet him before I had to leave. Good job too, as he was a little slow in signing, which is understandable, and I don’t think he’d reached my number before I had to leave at 3pm.

All in all then, the weekend was great. Really enjoyed meeting everyone for the first time, and I hope very much that it won’t be the last. I’m sure it won’t. I’m keeping a close eye on announcements for the second Collectormania of the year in October as if it’s anywhere near as good as this one then I’ll definitely be coming back. Sadly, though, Travelodge, you won’t be seeing me again. I’ll go for the Hilton Doubletree next time.

If you made it this far, well done – you win nothing but my thanks.

Latersville.

Con Season

Over the last few years I have discovered the wonder of being able to spend my hard-earned cash on travelling across the country attending conventions. It’s something I was only introduced to in 2011, and I have been hooked on them ever since. It feels like an eternity since the last event I attended, which was the Entertainment Media Show at London Olympia on a glorious October weekend in 2012.

I should clarify that although I tend to refer to these events as ‘conventions’, purists would tend to argue that what I have attended thus far are actually ‘signing events’, which is probably a more accurate name – however I sway toward referring to them as cons myself. The signing events I have attended have thus far been limited to those organised by Showmasters, however I am now beginning to spread my wings further afield. Strictly speaking, a ‘convention’ normally refers to a weekend event devoted to one (or maybe two or three) specific fandoms, such as Starfury events in Birmingham.

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Con season is nearly upon me again, starting with the Mercury Promotions show ‘Wales Comic Con’ at Glyndŵr University, Wrexham, which is next Sunday (28 April 2013). I’ve never attended this particular event before, so I’m going into it blind, but generally speaking there is a certain format to these events which I’m sure will apply to WCC. Usually the build up to a con starts months in advance, with regular visits to the event’s forum online. Here, the organisers announce new guests on a drip-feed basis, tantalising us occasionally with “BIG GUEST ANNOUNCEMENT NEXT WEEK” posts, which both excite and frustrate in equal measures. Sometimes these guests will disappoint, when it’s a star you have either never heard of, or have little to no interest in, but it’s the times when a big guest is annnounced that really gets the excitement going months ahead of the event itself.

When buying tickets in advance (which is highly recommended, regardless of the event) you get a choice of either a standard entry ticket or an ‘early bird’. I typically go for the latter, simply due to the fact that you get to enter the venue generally about an hour before the standard entry crowds. This is worth the slightly higher price for said entry tickets, certainly if you want to ensure you meet one of the more popular guests. It’s rare that you wouldn’t get a chance to meet your guest, but the later you enter the venue, the longer you would have to wait.

I am attending Wales Comic Con for a few reasons. The entire Red Dwarf cast will be there – Chris Barrie, Craig Charles, Danny John-Jules, Robert Llewellyn, Hattie Hayridge and Norman Lovett – and although I’ve previously had a photo taken with Chris, Craig and Robert, I feel that a photo with all six of the main cast will be something I will be able to treasure for years to come. Also in attendance will be Warwick Davis, who I want to meet not only for his recent comedic exploits in Life’s Too Short, but also to be the first signature on my ongoing, long-lasting project, a poster for the original Star Wars trilogy (in which he played Wicket the Ewok). I understand that Paul Blake, who played Greedo (Han shot first!) will also be there.

In addition to the actors I want to meet, WCC boasts guests from various fandoms, including Game of Thrones – a show I have thus far managed to totally miss but is extremely popular with con attendees at the moment – and Primeval, from which the lovely Hannah Spearitt is attending. I would probably be minded to say however that the headline guest of the show is Billy Boyd, who of course played Peregrin “Pippin” Took in the Lord of the Rings films. Apparently there’s an aftershow party being held where his band, Beecake, will be performing.

These signing events work by charging attendees a sum for each autograph from a guest. This sum normally ranges from around £10 as a minimum, and depending on the event and the guest can rise up to anywhere from £50 and beyond. The higher prices are normally reserved for the big-name guests, such as Matt Smith (the current Doctor, at the time of writing) or Gillian Anderson from the X-Files, who I understand was until recently loathe to sign anything X-Files related.

The system of charging for autographs tends to divide opinion with a lot of people I’ve spoken to about conventions. Many non-con-goers consider the idea of paying an actor for an autograph is wrong, however I see it differently. The actor has been paid a fee by the organisers to attend the event – and that organiser then has to either simply make their money back through autograph or photoshoot sales, or indeed make a profit so they can book bigger and better guests at future events. I have no issue with paying for autographs, as anything is better than waiting outside theatre stage doors, something I have done myself once or twice.

Generally speaking, the actual act of meeting the guests, be it for an autograph or during the photoshoot, lasts a matter of seconds. Often (certainly with the more popular guests) you barely get an opportunity to interact with them at all, sometimes just handing a photo to their assistant, and telling them your name before it is passed to the guest for their signature in an assembly line style. This is understandable though. Although I’ve seen many complainants on social media whinge about having very little time with the guest, they have to realise that often said guest has to get through over a thousand guests in one day. I heard somewhere that Karen Gillan (Doctor Who’s Amy Pond) and Patrick Stewart did around 1500 autographs in one day at a particular event. Imagine having to sign your own name that many times in a day AND having to chat to each fan. I’m not too concerned with having a long chat to the guests. I very rarely know what to say to them, apart from the usual gushing praise, and I’m not really one for exclaiming “I loved you in Doctor Who” to Paul McGann or Derek Jacobi for example, who both have long and hugely varied careers away from Who to be proud of.

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At the end of May I am travelling to Milton Keynes for Collectormania, a show run by Showmasters, who apart from the Entertainment Media Show (mentioned earlier) also organise the London Film and Comic Con, which was my first event back in 2011. I have always enjoyed Showmasters shows. The standard of guests is always consistently high and more often than not the range of fandoms catered for is so varied, there is generally something for everyone. Through Showmasters I have been lucky enough to meet Christopher Lloyd (Back to the Future), Karen Gillan, a number of previous incarnations of the Doctor, John Barrowman, Alex Kingston, and indeed, Matt Smith himself:

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The forthcoming event in Milton Keynes is going to be a busy one for me. It’s the first time I’ve been alone to an event where I’ve decided to stay overnight and attend both the Saturday and Sunday, mainly because there are enough guests over both days who I want to meet, but also because I want to enjoy the social side of these cons too. I’ve spoken on Twitter and Facebook to many brilliant people who share an interest in the same shows as me, and also attend these events. Some are cosplayers (they come in full outfits based on costumes from shows, books, films etc and they’re fantastic) and some are just fans who go for autographs. Everyone I’ve chatted to so far has been really friendly and I’m hoping to meet up with some of them while I’m there.

The main guest for me at Collectormania is Jenna-Louise Coleman, who of course is the current companion to the Doctor (at the time of writing). I’m very much hoping she doesn’t have to cancel (cancellations are thankfully rare, but incredibly frustrating if it’s one of the main guests you’re intending to meet). Even if she isn’t able to attend I still have a long list of guests I want to meet over the weekend, including Bernard Cribbins, who is a living legend.

Besides, at £35 an autograph for Jenna, it’ll certainly free up a few quid for other expenses!