Happy Anniversary!

While the actual date of inception is lost to that dark backward and abysm of time, this month marks the tenth anniversary of Kate Anderson.  And I thought it appropriate to mark the day on the anniversary of Doctor Who's first transmission for without Doctor Who there would be no Kate.

Kate was created for a sketch called Doctor Who and the Spork of Death.  Mo Pease played Kate and I played the Doctor, naturally.  There was an ancient rivalry between alien races (the Sporks and the Foons), strange jokes, and very silly costumes.  Basically everything you'd expect from late 70s Doctor Who.  And there was Kate.  A wry woman in the midst of insanity.  I actually managed to find a copy of the script.  I know for a fact this wasn't the version performed, as there are a couple of jokes missing.  But it's pretty close.  It's also...very rough shall we say.  This is the first time I had really written anything.  It's very clear that I didn't know what I was doing.  But it got better.  At least, I hope it got better!

Doctor Who and the Spork of Death

(We hear the TARDIS land offstage.  Enter the DOCTOR and KATE)

DOCTOR:  Well, here we are, Pismo Beach and all the clams we can eat.

KATE:  Doctor, I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t Pismo Beach.

DOCTOR:  It isn’t?  (KATE shakes her head as he looks around)  Oh.  (pulls out a map)  I knew we should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

KATE:  It looks as though we’re in some sort of timeless void.

DOCTOR:  Don’t say such things.

KATE:  Why not?

DOCTOR:  I usually have trouble in timeless voids.  (he puts the map away)  My watch stops and someone always tries to kill me.

(Enter SPORK WIELDING MANIAC)

SPORK WIELDING MANIAC:  Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

DOCTOR:  (consulting his watch) Right on schedule.

SPORK WIELDING MANIAC:  (con’t) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

DOCTOR: (finds that his watch has stopped)  Oh really.  Stupid piece of junk.

SPORK WIELDING MANIAC:  (con’t) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

DOCTOR:  (puts his watch away, notices that there is a SPORK WIELDING MANIAC)  Are you quite done now?

SPORK WIELDING MANIAC:  (takes a breath) aaaaaaaaaah!  (He rushes the DOCTOR and KATE.  KATE flips him over her shoulder.)

DOCTOR:  (applauding) Oh, very nicely done.

KATE:  Thank you.

DOCTOR:  Now, what about our spork wielding friend here?

KATE:  I dunno.  He looks a bit maniacal to me.

DOCTOR:  Well, anyone who wields a spork would have to be.

KATE:  Stands to reason, doesn’t it?

DOCTOR:  I suppose.  (he pulls the SPORK WIELDING MANIAC up)  Now there’s a good chap.  Tell us why you attacked us, hm?

SPORK WIELDING MANIAC:  Never!  (He stabs himself with the spork and dies)

KATE:  There’s something you don’t see every day.

DOCTOR:  What?

KATE:  Someone who attacks you with a spork and then commits suicide with it.

DOCTOR:  You haven’t traveled with me very long have you?

KATE:  No.

DOCTOR:  Well, you get used to such things after awhile, you know.  Daleks, mad scientists, spork wielding maniacs…The list goes on for miles.

KATE:  I’ll take your word for it.

DOCTOR:  Let’s go see what else is about, shall we?

(They exit.  Enter PHIPS and ZORBIDIN.)

PHIPS:  Did you see that?

ZORBIDIN:  Yes.  They materialized from nowhere in that big blue box.

PHIPS:  No, that’s run of the mill.  I meant the spork guy.

ZORBIDIN:  Oh yes.  So what?

PHIPS:  SO what, you numbskull, is that means the Sporks are gaining power again.

ZORBIDIN:  By the Great Plastic Mold in the Sky, you’re right.

PHIPS:  I always am.  Let’s go tell the Big F.

ZORBIDIN:  Right!

(They exit.  Reenter the DOCTOR and KATE.)

KATE:  An entire culture based on plastic cutlery?

DOCTOR:  That’s nothing.  On Earth, in California, three high school students started the First Church of the Order of Shaft.

KATE:  Shaft?  As in Richard Roundtree?

DOCTOR:  They say that cat Shaft’s one bad motha-

KATE:  Shut yo’ mouth.

DOCTOR:  Hey, I’m just talkin’ ‘bout Shaft.

KATE:  Are you done?

DOCTOR:  Erm, yeah.

KATE:  But seriously, the situation here seems very unstable.  The power struggled between the Sporks and the Foons are growing.  The Foons are in control and the Sporks want in.

DOCTOR:  Same as a thousand different planets in a thousand different times.

KATE:  But we’re here, now.  Can we leave?

DOCTOR:  Oh, but it was just getting interesting.

KATE:  But it’s dangerous.

DOCTOR:  You really haven’t been traveling with me long.

(enter PHIPS and ZORBIDIN)

PHIPS:  You will come with us.

ZORBIDIN:  Yeah!

DOCTOR:  If you don’t mind me asking, why?  (PHIPS sticks a foon under his nose)  Um, is this supposed to be threatening?

ZORBIDIN:  You mean it isn’t?

KATE:  Not really, no.

PHIPS:  That’s rather disappointing.

DOCTOR:  Yes, I can see that.  You’ve spent a lot of time and effort in an attempt to be threatening and make us come with you, and it failed.  Miserably.

PHIPS:  It’s not our fault, you see.  We’re just civil servants.  It’s not our job to threaten.  All we can do is account.  We can’t even account for ourselves.

DOCTOR:  Oh, there, there.

ZORBIDIN:  I’m Phips and he’s Zorbidin.  (PHIPS hits him on the head)  I mean, he’s Zorbidin and I’m Phips.  (PHIPS hits him again)  I mean, I’m Zorbidin and he’s Phips.

KATE:  I almost fell sorry for them.  Doctor, can we go with them?

DOCTOR:  Oh, why not?  We might even teach them to be threatening.

PHIPS:  Would you?

ZORBIDIN:  It’d be a great help.

BIG FOON:  (off) There is no need.

KATE:  And why is that?

BIG FOON:  (off) Because I am here.

(The BIG FOON enters.  He is dressed like a giant foon with a long blue cape.)

KATE:  Does anyone else find that the least bit disturbing?

PHIPS:  It grows on you.

DOCTOR:  It’d have to.

BIG FOON:  Silence!  I am the Big Foon, leader of the Foons.

KATE:  Oh, that’s inventive.

BIG FOON:  Who might you be?

DOCTOR:  We might be any number of things.

KATE:  A giant foon, for example.

DOCTOR:  As it happens, I’m the Doctor and this is my friend Kate, I believe you know Phips and Zorbidin and you said your name was the Big Foon if I recall correctly and I always do.  Except when I don’t.

KATE:  Charmed, I’m sure.

BIG FOON:  What brings you to my timeless void?

(Enter LAWYER)

LAWYER:  Excuse me a moment, sir.  (He and the BIG FOON confer in whispers and large gestures for a moment.  Exit LAWYER.)

BIG FOON:  I’ve just been informed by my lawyer that if I say another cliché, I’ll get sued.

DOCTOR:  We came here quire by accident.  Our ship doesn’t have the best navigation systems.

KATE:  That’s the understatement of the year.

DOCTOR:  Shh.

BIG FOON:  You are spies of the Sporks!

DOCTOR:  You leapt to that conclusion rather quickly, didn’t you?

BIG FOON:  It was a command decision.

DOCTOR:  Ah.

KATE:  Well, I assume you’re going to shoot us now?

ZORBIDIN:  No.

DOCTOR and KATE:  No?

PHIPS:  We’re going to foon you!

KATE:  That sounds a bit rude.

DOCTOR:  Not as rude as sporking.

KATE:  That’s true.

BIG FOON:  Silence!  Zorbidin, Phips, get them!

DOCTOR:  Erm. One moment please.  Just one question and you can go back to fooning us.

BIG FOON:  Sigh, what is it?

DOCTOR:  Why do you keep saying ‘Silence!’?

BIG FOON:  I’ve never really thought about it much before.  I suppose it came from my father, the Medium Foon.

ZORBIDIN:  Oh yeah, I remember him.  Great leader he was.

BIG FOON:  But who’s the greatest leader ever?

ZORBIDIN:  You are, sir.  Without a doubt.

BIG FOON:  And don’t you forget it!

KATE:  The Medium Foon?

BIG FOON: Yes.  I am the Big Foon, my father was the Medium Foon, his father was the Small Foon…

DOCTOR:  On second thought, I don’t want to know why you keep saying ‘Silence!’.  If it’s going to be as boring as this, you might as well foon us.  It’d be more humane.

KATE:  Foone.

DOCTOR:  Hm?

KATE:  Foone.  Like humane.  You just add the silent ‘e’.

DOCTOR:  Ah.

PHIPS:  May we continue now?

(The DOCTOR nods.  They advance on the DOCTOR and KATE.)

DOCTOR:  Now, let’s not be too hasty guys.

KATE:  Yeah, we were going to help you.

PHIPS:  But he’s the Big Foon.  Whatever he says goes.

ZORBIDIN:  If we don’t follow his orders, we’ll get fooned.

(Enter three more SPORK WIELDING MANIACS.)

DOCTOR:  Look, behind you, three spork wielding maniacs!

ZORBIDIN:  D’you think we’re going to fall for that old one?  (A SPORK WIELDING MANIAC stabs ZORBIDIN in the back.)  Arrrrg!

PHIPS:  Doctor, what are we going to do?

DOCTOR:  What a lovely change of heart.

(Another SPORK WIELDING MANIAC stabs the BIG FOON.)

BIG FOON:  I am slain.  {Enter LAWYER.  He whispers something in the BIG FOON’S ear and runs off.)  Oh bugger, I can’t afford that.

KATE:  Doctor, think of something!

DOCTOR:  Yes, yes, yes.  Ah, I know.  (He pulls a small cylindrical object from his pocket.)

PHIPS:  What’s that?

DOCTOR:  What?

PHIPS:  I said, what’s that.

DOCTOR:  Sonic screwdriver.  (He holds it aloft and aims it at the SPORK WIELDING MANIACS.  They yelp, drop their sporks, and run off.)

PHIPS:  I don’t understand.

KATE:  That’s hardly surprising.

DOCTOR:  Oh, quite simple, really.  The sonic screwdriver excited the atoms in the sporks, causing them to go faster, which had the side effects of heating the plastic.

PHIPS:  And they dropped them accordingly.

DOCTOR:  Precisely.

PHIPS:  There’s just one problem.

KATE:  What’s that?

PHIPS:  The Big Foon died.  There’s no one to take his place.

DOCTOR:  Well, I can think of no one more suited to the job than you.

PHIPS:  But I have no political experience.

KATE:  Which is why you’d make a great leader.

DOCTOR:  People who want to rule should by no means be the ones with power.

PHIPS:  And what of you , Doctor?  Will you help me get rid of the Sporks?

DOCTOR:  No!  Absolutely not!  That’s not the way I do things.  Anymore.  Some of my previously selves, on the other hand, would be happy to help.  Try the small Scottish one with the question mark fetish.

KATE:  Besides, have you ever looked closely at a spork and a foon?

PHIPS:  No, not really.

KATE:  They’re identical.  Just different names for the same thing.

PHIPS:  Never though of it like that before.

KATE:  Thought not.

DOCTOR:  We really should be going.

PHIPS:  Yes, of course.  Goodbye, Doctor.  Goodbye, Kate.  (he exits)

KATE:  That was so real, it was surreal.

DOCTOR: Quite.

KATE:  Can we go now?

DOCTOR:  Every time we get someplace, you always want to leave.

KATE:  That’s because weird things like this keep happening.

DOCTOR:  This?  This is nothing.  Have I ever told you about the time a group of intelligent carrots demanding unlimited rice pudding abducted my companion and nearly blew up the Fifth Galaxy?

KATE:  No.

DOCTOR:  (as they exit) Well, I was in my sixth incarnation at the time and my companion Mel was trying to get me to lose some weight…

APE!

Enjoy a couple of photos from APE. And if you're just joining us, welcome!

Kate Anderson and the Dark Backward and Abysm of Time-Part Four

After Book of the Dead was well received, I immediately threw myself into doing more Kate. There are more than a few notebooks with abandoned Kate stories in them, mostly written in-between class notes for subjects I could care less about. We were going to do a sequel and then Lexi decided she wasn't going to do Chautauqua. I toyed with the idea of writing one anyway, but convinced myself that it would be a very bad idea. And it would have been. And then we were going to do a short film or two for the Chautauqua film festival and that didn't happen for various reasons. Although I don't remember precisely why, I think we probably just ran out of time.

Meanwhile, the play I *did* write for Chautauqua was being performed. The Magnificent Adventures of Mothman and Chrysalis featured Drake Anderson as the title character. Drake Anderson is Kate's cousin, but this was not made particularly clear in the script. Drake and his youthful ward Julie Adams will be showing up at some point in one of the backup stories once I can come up with a story that isn't obvious. Ha!

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Now playing: Dave Matthews Band - Stay (Wasting Time)
via FoxyTunes

Kate Anderson and the Dark Backward and Abysm of Time-Part Three

Just a quick note before diving in, we are currently #2 on Google if you type in Kate Anderson Adventures behind some travel agency. That's pretty cool, but I think we can do better. I mean, we're not even on the first couple of pages for Kate Anderson. Spread the word!

Back to the Book of the Dead.

KAatBotD was written, as the little story said, out of despair. After having the play I wrote taken out of my hands and utterly utterly mangled into unrecognizably, I needed to do something for me. In parts it's a little clunky, I'll not deny it. There are a few things that I never quite figured out out to make them work, like the sword fighting zombies. But it is absolute joy bursting out onto every page. And to this day, I am surprised it was performed. It was rejected the year before, but that was before I started having friends on the selection committee. Thanks Shay!

The name Timothy Eccles is slightly strange. In KAatBotD he is introduced as 'Timothy, never Tim' mostly because I hate it when people call me Steve. My name isn't Steve, it's Steven. Yes, it's one letter, but it's my name! And sure enough, he's never been called Tim. Eccles came from The Goon Show, many episodes of which I was listening to while writing. KAatBotD isn't really informed by The Goon Show, but some of the other things I wrote at the time were. I don't know why Eccles got the nod, he's not my favourite character, I guess it just worked.

And of course, Opal Forrester was introduced. She's probably going to come into the comic at some point. Must give her a proper story...


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Now playing: Keller Williams - Vabeeotchay
via FoxyTunes

Kate Anderson and the Dark Backward and Abysm of Time-Part Two

It was in the May of 2001 that I began the endeavor which I relate to you now. Feeling unfulfilled with my current theatrical work, which was being slaughtered on the stage like an unsuspecting bovine, I turned my attention once again to that solitary vice of writing. Many was the sleepless hour I spent hunched over my keyboard, the cerulean illumination from the monitor the only source of radiance in my darkened quarters. Neither food nor drink compelled me to turn away from what I had begun. Neither too did my studies, and a monograph on Wagner’s Bayreuth festival went by the wayside, not returned to until the last possible juncture. I tried drowning my thoughts with music composed by a sovereign of the crimson nation, but to no avail. My head was filled instead by the inhuman ululations of the muse that had attached itself to my brain, unwilling or perhaps unable to release its hold until my narrative had been completed.

When I had at long last finished my magnum opus, I discovered that three weeks had passed. The passing of time had completely circumvented me! I had had not witnessed its flight and had I not been assured by several acquaintances that this was the case, I could have scarcely believed it. My faculties recovered, I began to study the manuscript I had produced. O, what a foul creation it was! Had I not been there to witness its inception, I would not have thought it to be crafted by myself. Creatures being summoned forth by a hideous tome in an attempt to cause the premature extinction of our great hominid derived race? Who could accredit such a chronicle? I sealed the beast to a derelict folder in a desolate section of my hard drive.

In the days and weeks that followed the banishment of my creation, I did my best to try and continue on with my life. And for a time I succeeded, but the anathema of my handiwork haunted the recesses of my mind in the same manner as the laughing dogs of the Negav Desert track their quarry. In order to silence the baying of these ghastly hounds, I submitted my abomination to the Chautauqua Festival, the very place where my work had been dismembered two years previously. The irony was almost too much for me to bear, could my salvation be in the very locality that had driven me to write in the first place? For my sake, I hoped that this would be the case.

And it was, the Chautauqua Festival accepted my hideous creation and quelled the growing din in my mind. But, in my moment of salvation I did not consider the consequences. Previously, my work had been contained within the confines of my skull, but now it was unleashed upon the community like a plague. I tried distracting myself through the manipulation of innumerable sonances for other shows in the Festival, all for naught because Kate Anderson and the Book of the Dead was performed. I can only hope that any cases of dementia coming after its exhibition are hereditary and any connections to my creation are pallitated. As for me, I write this final note as an explanation before sealing myself in an iron lined crypt, its whereabouts remaining hidden against those who would try to rescue me. Leave me be, it is safer for the world if I am ensconced where I can do no further harm. Beware The Book of the Dead, for surely it shall drive you mad as it did me.

Kate Anderson and the Dark Backward and Abysm of Time-Part One

It's been ten years since I created Kate Anderson. The road to the comic has been, without hyperbole, a long one. So, where did she come from?

Kate was created for a sketch I wrote called The Spork of Death. It was the first thing I wrote for the stage and it was pretty silly. On the page, Kate wasn't really formulated as a character. She was made entirely by her performer, Monica (Mo) Pease. Mo gave her some flair, some sarcasm, and wackiness. These are all things that can be seen on the page today. Thanks, Mo!

The name Kate came from The Taming of the Shrew, I don't know why. I hadn't been reading it at the time or anything, but it was a conscious decision. Anderson stems from Jon Anderson, as I was listening to a lot of Yes at the time. Also, Anderson is a nicely generic name. It has a very familiar quality to it. This was to pay off later in a big way.

Next time, we'll open The Book of the Dead and peruse its secrets!