The Fear & Midnight

So here it is, the last day of my seven-month period of being Acting Reviews Editor at heat magazine. Recently, I also completed what will be my last Doctor Who Magazine articles for a while, which will be published in next month's issue 397. The idea is now to script like nobody's business, having been given so much more free time.

Free time which now, of course, seems quite frightening...

I'm gutted to have ended my part-time work at heat, and to be taking a break from Doctor Who Magazine: I 100% love writing for those magazines. But this screenwriting lark takes time. Not to mention sacrifices. And while I'm mindful of Phill Barron's annoyingly sensible ruminations on The Starving Artist - damn that man, and his common sense - sometimes you've just got to bite the bullet.

Hmmm, yes.

As long as that bullet doesn't explode, I'll be fine. And of course, it's very exciting, to have given myself an open road.

But talking of frightening, I today watched Midnight, episode 10 of this Doctor Who season. I'm telling you nothing about it, apart from these adjectives: scary, unnerving, brave, bizarre and brilliant. Doctor Who has never seen anything like it. Neither has the world, come to think of it. If anyone's still thinking that nonsense about Russell T Davies being unable to 'do' dark, then this should change their mind.

And before Midnight, we've got this magnificent Moffat two-parter, starting tomorrow night, which is also all of those adjectives. Happy days.