A Foreword - by Janine Rivers
I wrote this story before I stepped down as editor of the site, last Christmas. As you would naturally expect from such a process, there's always one or two stories that don't get posted in time - so I'm also waiting eagerly for my Sarah Jane Adventures story, which I believe is set to be posted on the NEU page next year.
So it's worth making the chronology clear. 101 Reasons to Live was the last piece of Doctor Who fiction I wrote, and to say it was written from the heart is an understatement. I wrote this at the close of the worst year of my life, and I suppose, at the beginning of the best (not to mention the numerous amendments I've made over the last year). I wrote this in the space of about 24 hours, which isn't unusual for me; I started in the morning, and stayed up all night.
Some acknowledgements, then. Thank you Steven Moffat, for creating these wonderful, vivid, and wonderfully, vividly flawed characters. Thank you Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman, for bringing them to life. Thank you Paul Cornell, for the idea of structuring a story using seasons as chapters. And thank you Ed Goundrey-Smith, for supporting me throughout this process, for giving me the platform, and for giving me a legacy I really don't deserve. Oh, and to anyone reading this, thank you - it means a lot. I wanted this story to be read.
This is, without doubt, the best piece of fiction I have ever written, in any form. And I cried. Are those facts surprising? I don't think so. We all thrive when we're writing about what we love, and this story is an unashamed love letter to an era of Doctor Who which has been truly, truly special to me. When Ed first read this story, he loved it - and he said he loved it because he could see how much I loved the Twelfth Doctor. Which is true, I do. You'll be reading this foreword, I realise, a day before we lose him. In a couple of days time, 101 Reasons to Live will be a historical artefact. I'll be gutted to lose him, but at least I got the chance to write something meaningful, something which might, might just convey what the Doctor and Clara Oswald meant to me.
This is a story in four chapters. It's a story about loss, a story about healing, about trust, friendship, romance, adventure, history, eternity, regret, acceptance, dreams, wishes, words unsaid, about the things that happen to us and the different ways we cope... and it's a story about poetry.
This is the last Doctor Who story I wrote. I wrote it at the lowest point of my life. Almost everything in the first chapter was, in some sense, what I went through last year. And it got better. So to everyone reading this story this year, everyone who feels the way I felt before, I want you to get one simple message out of this tale. Things will get better again. I promise.
Read Part I >
So it's worth making the chronology clear. 101 Reasons to Live was the last piece of Doctor Who fiction I wrote, and to say it was written from the heart is an understatement. I wrote this at the close of the worst year of my life, and I suppose, at the beginning of the best (not to mention the numerous amendments I've made over the last year). I wrote this in the space of about 24 hours, which isn't unusual for me; I started in the morning, and stayed up all night.
Some acknowledgements, then. Thank you Steven Moffat, for creating these wonderful, vivid, and wonderfully, vividly flawed characters. Thank you Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman, for bringing them to life. Thank you Paul Cornell, for the idea of structuring a story using seasons as chapters. And thank you Ed Goundrey-Smith, for supporting me throughout this process, for giving me the platform, and for giving me a legacy I really don't deserve. Oh, and to anyone reading this, thank you - it means a lot. I wanted this story to be read.
This is, without doubt, the best piece of fiction I have ever written, in any form. And I cried. Are those facts surprising? I don't think so. We all thrive when we're writing about what we love, and this story is an unashamed love letter to an era of Doctor Who which has been truly, truly special to me. When Ed first read this story, he loved it - and he said he loved it because he could see how much I loved the Twelfth Doctor. Which is true, I do. You'll be reading this foreword, I realise, a day before we lose him. In a couple of days time, 101 Reasons to Live will be a historical artefact. I'll be gutted to lose him, but at least I got the chance to write something meaningful, something which might, might just convey what the Doctor and Clara Oswald meant to me.
This is a story in four chapters. It's a story about loss, a story about healing, about trust, friendship, romance, adventure, history, eternity, regret, acceptance, dreams, wishes, words unsaid, about the things that happen to us and the different ways we cope... and it's a story about poetry.
This is the last Doctor Who story I wrote. I wrote it at the lowest point of my life. Almost everything in the first chapter was, in some sense, what I went through last year. And it got better. So to everyone reading this story this year, everyone who feels the way I felt before, I want you to get one simple message out of this tale. Things will get better again. I promise.
Read Part I >