I think I may be only making fiddles until I get to the end, which needs some serious expansion. But man, I am so BORED WITH THIS B@#K.
I don't want to read this b%$k any more, mommy. I'm bored bloody stiff with it, and horrified by the idea that even if the editor likes my changes, there is still the CEM and the galleys to go. If I never see it again, it will be too soon.
In other news, the underground railroad delivered a copy of The Christmas Invasion to our doorstep today. There were bits of it I really loved, but the ending annoyed me beyond words, in part because I like Harriet a hell of a lot more than I like Doctor #10, who I ran exceedingly hot and cold on.
Not sure Tennant can pull off the manic-depressive Doctor very well. Alas. I loved his Eccleston impersonation; dead on. And he was great when he was being funny or snide or snarky... but he doesn't do the darker or the manic sides of the mercurial as well. Also, the "what sort of a man am I?" thing was clever at first, but got overplayed. Although I did like the bit about "I'm lucky."
And I'm still a Mickey Apologist, dammit. I like him.
...man, the Doctor has got to be an incredibly challenging role, now that I stop to think of it.
Tennant's very pretty, though. He may have the category of The Prettiest Doctor sewn up nicely.