Buy the DFC

There, that’s the subliminal advertising done.

I couldn’t possibly say what DFC stands for, but if I mention that it’s published by my publisher David Fickling and it’s a comic, you may be able to work it out. Issue 1 is out at the end of month and it was launched yesterday at a do at the BFI.

Comics were big in my day. The newsagents were packed with them. My character was permanently shaped by Countdown, which became TV Action and then folded when I was 8. There were (and still are) the obviously comical comics – Beano, Dandy. There were (far too many) war-based ones – Warlord, Battle, Victor. There were the more generic ones, which I think were my favourites: Valiant, Hotspur, Tornado, Bullet, each of which covered a variety of genres. Oh yes, obviously, 2000AD, launched in 1977 when 2000AD was still in the far future. And Starlord, which had a brief fling in the late 70s before merging with 2000AD but which I frankly think was better. I’d probably not have written Time’s Chariot if not for their ‘Timequake’ series.

Mergers were a common thing, which was unfortunate if you had a subscription to two comics which became one. For a while they would present themselves as X & Y – Battle & Hotspur, 2000AD & Tornado – before assimilation would complete and the name of the Y partner would mysteriously vanish from the masthead. The exception to this was Whizzer & Chips which actually was one comic pretending to be two.

And for the gels, bless them, there was (I believe) Misty and – heaven help us – Bunty. Bunty?? I still can’t quite believe my life encompasses a time period when girls were expected to identify with names like Bunty. Why not just call it ‘Frumpy Bluestocking’ and be done?

But what they all had in common was good ol’ straightforward story telling, a maximum of plot and a minimum of words, week after week after week without fail. Blimey. As a kid you just took it all for granted but the creative effort must have been stupendous.

And now the DFC. If you’re a regular blog reader with a really long memory you might remember me coyly announcing two great pieces of news, 15 months ago, that I couldn’t then expand on. Time’s Chariot was one and the DFC is the other. David is launching a new comic, bringing the standards of the golden age that he (and I) grew up in to today’s online media-savvy interactivity-drenched younger generation. It’s a proper paper product but only available by subscription, thus avoiding the ruinous discounts and terms required to get any magazine into a newsagents. He’s pushing it heavily at schools. The stories run the whole gamut of all the comics mentioned above, with drawing styles and plot lines that should cover most of secondary education. It’s a lovely thing just to hold. I showed it to my designer colleague this morning and it appealed to four of his five senses (he didn’t, as far as I could see, taste it). And Philip Pullman has contributed a strip which is good boy’s own adventure and doesn’t seem to push atheism. In short, nothing to hate, everything to love.

The launch do was held at the BFI, tucked away beneath Waterloo Bridge. In fact as far as I can tell it’s part of the bridge’s integral structure. Having walked three sides round a large square to get in at the BFI’s front door, I found that the party was in the Film Café, which opens right out onto the south bank.


So, 400 people crammed into quite a small space for wine and nibbles then, mercifully, we were released out onto the riverside where David (left, dark jacket) and Mr P (right, light jacket) released 100 balloons with complimentary subscriptions attached to them for any finders.



Can it work? I’ve no idea. But if David (and the full resources of Random House behind him) can’t do it then I’ll concede no one can.

In other news my favourite bookshop, Abingdon’s Mostly Books, has won the Booksellers Association New Bookshop of the Year Award, And quite right too. Nice things, excellent things are happening to people that I like. They are not necessarily happening to me. I may feel a little on the periphery, but I’m big enough to share their joy.

Long before Carol Vorderman ...

Countdown was my reading of choice as a child and it quite possibily influenced me more than any other reading matter before or since. I think I picked up my first copy simply because it had Jon Pertwee on the front – or rather an artist's rendition of the man in his most famous role. Countdown published cartoon adventures based on TV shows, mostly science fiction. Some were original, like Dr Who; most were reprinted Gerry Anderson adventures from TV21, whose existence overlapped with my lifespan but entirely passed me by. Either way, with the unlimited effects budget of pictures they easily surpassed their TV counterparts for sheer excitement.

And there was the titular comic strip, "Countdown" itself. This was brand new, unique to the comic, and even I could tell it was edgier and darker than the ever-optimistic, technophile Anderson strips. All the spaceships were modelled on designs taken from 2001 (the Countdown itself was essentially the Discovery) which automatically gave it an ’arder feel and the artist, John Burns, used much more modern comic techniques (images bursting out of their frames, use of light and shadow to hide or reveal) than the hand-drawn photoframes of the others. The Countdown is a deep space exploration ship which returns to Earth after many years to find the planet in the grip of an evil dictatorship, with resistance led by the lunar colony. Our heroes are helped by the fact that on their voyage they picked up a friendly alien (called Bill) who helps them out with his advanced technology, not least a teleport and nifty little devices called whisperwheels which enable telepathic communication between wearers.

Thus, seven years before Blake's 7, we have the crew of an alien-enhanced starship fighting an evil dictatorship. Hmm.

A few years ago I started gathering old editions of Countdown off eBay. I now even have the very first issue. Wow. The first "Countdown" strip has hardly any dialogue – just a series of pictures that take the reader through the dark, cold corridors of the ship, closing in on the crew in suspended animation. Seven years before Blake's 7 and eight years before Alien.

I was also struck by the way the evil dictator strongly resembled the late Robin Cook, but I'm prepared to put it down to coincidence.

As well as all the above, Countdown also ran factual stuff full of a sense of wonder: a lot on the then current Apollo landings; what I would now call an unhealthy obsession with UFOs and matters related; full page, full colour photos of giant hydroelectric turbines, nuclear reactors, anything big and techie. It made me what I am.

Countdown metamorphosed into TV Action, expanding its remit beyond science fiction to TV adventures generally. It wasn't as good and it folded in summer 1973.

It was in TV Action that I first learnt the name of the Time Lords' home world – Gallifrey! And therein lies a puzzle that bothered me for years. It is part of Dr Who lore – of which, okay, I know a little – that Gallifrey was first named in the Pertwee-era adventure The Time Warrior, broadcast December 73-January 74. But hang on, I hear you cry, you said TV Action folded in summer 73? Well, quite.

But now the puzzle is solved, thanks to getting The Time Warrior on DVD for Christmas. (DVD! A marvellous invention! Was there really a time when it took four whole weeks to watch a four-episode adventure? When you simply had to remember what had happened up to a month previously? When if parents or fate decreed you would be out at Saturday teatime, you missed the episode with no hope of ever seeing it again? Answer to all of the above: yes.)

The Time Warrior was indeed first broadcast in December 73 – but it was filmed in May of that year, and producer Barry Letts had a guest slot in TV Action to answer readers' questions about the show. And that was when Gallifrey was first named publicly. A world exclusive, breaking news. Nothing would ever be the same again. I had no idea.

Pay attention, children. You never know when the world will change.