In May 2012, a freak wormhole in the space-time continuum briefly
opened a gateway to 1980 and Hidden Tiger Books decided to take advantage
of the opportunities it presented. The initial intent, which was to pick
up loads of cheap tat to auction off at inflated prices on ebay, was
quickly sidetracked when they were cornered by a spotty 14¾ year-old oik
called Alan Hayes, who demanded to be interviewed. Reluctantly, we agreed.
HIDDEN TIGER: Alan, it may surprise you to know that we are in
contact with your future self in 2012 and are publishing a collection of
your fanzine, Fury From The Deep. What have you got to say about
ALAN HAYES: 2012? Wow! That's terrific! Can't say I'm surprised,
though. Fury From The Deep is one heck of a fanzine, if I do say so myself. Even David Hamilton likes
it. I think he's the man from Top of the Pops, but I've met him and he looks
different to the man from Top of the Pops, so obviously the BBC
have got something wrong there. I think I will write and complain.
HT: Hasn't it occurred to you that there might be more
than one person called David Hamilton? Strewth! Oh well, better let the
cat out of the bag... We really don't want to hurt your feelings, but
Hidden Tiger are issuing
Fury From The Deep for a laugh, really.
AH: A laugh? You're pulling my leg!
HT: Absolutely not. It's pant-wettingly hilarious. You mean you can't see
that? The naive art, the fabricated news stories, the articles that dissected
the series with all the insight of a concussed badger, the glib and dumb opinion... and then there's the general design and
layout which appears to have been pulled together by a blind Albanian drunk
with no arms. You really don't expect us to take all that seriously, do
AH: Well, it's your loss, future boy. I've always said that a life is incomplete
without having a map to the Doctor Who story, The Stones of Blood,
an exhaustive half-page feature about the name Theta Sigma, or a giant
drawing of a Cybermat. I only drew that one because it was easier to draw
than Patrick Troughton. So far I've only mastered drawing his arms.
Right... What issue are you working on right now?
AH: The Summer Special. I finished Issue 3 last week and it's
brilliant. It's even got a report about going to the BBC Radiophonic
Workshop with Marc Sinclair and Uncle David Saunders. I never thought I would live to see the day when Dick Mills
squelched his hands in Swarfega just for me. Breathtaking stuff! I am
As for the Summer Special, it'll be double length and will be the
best one yet. That'll change your minds.
HT: We've seen it. It didn't. However, we must admit that there are
some nice bits in your magazines, but they're all written or drawn by people
who are not you. There's some decent stuff from Colin P. Jenkins, Richard
Hawley, Anthony Goodman and Jim Mortimore (he's a published author now,
AH: Oh, I'll go and tell Jamie that. That's his real name, you
know, and he lives two doors down the road from here at number 66 with his
Mum and his Dad and his brother and sister and two vicious dogs that keep
attacking me. He'll
be delighted to know that he'll be on a level with the likes of Barbara
Cartland in the future. He's very clever and, as far as I know, Barbara
Cartland isn't as good as him at making spaceships out of bits of old Airfix kits, so really, that probably means he's much better than she is, doesn't
it? I would go and tell him, but I've got him slaving away for me, writing
a story about the Key to Time, called The Enemy Within.
HT: It's very good.
AH: How do you know? He's only just started writing it!
HT: We've seen it. Tell you what, we'll just drop a copy around to
him before we pop off home. It'll save him spending too much time writing
it. So what are your future plans after the Summer Special?
AH: Well, there's Issue 4, which is due out in July, and then I'll
be doing a Winter Special, which is planned for September or October.
HT: You really shouldn't bother. Go out. Meet some girls.
AH: I would, but my mum keeps perming my hair and I'm too afraid to
go out of the house. It's not easy being fourteen and having a hairstyle
that makes me look like a Boney M groupie!
HT: Well, if you've got to stay indoors, read something decent, then. You know, perhaps some Ray
Bradbury, Asimov, maybe even some Dickens, Wells or Conan Doyle.
AH: Hmmmph! And what, pray tell, can possibly beat Doctor Who
and the Underworld by Terrance Dicks? You people from the future are
so dopey. You know what, I don't much like your attitude. I've half a mind
to destroy all my copies of Fury From The Deep, just so that you
can't publish your jokey book.
HT: Do it. Burn the lot of them. Cut them into little bits and feed them to
the dog. It won't make one jot of difference as we got our copies
from some idiot who purchased all the issues and kept them for 32 years.
And we said you were a bit dim!
AH: You didn't say that at all.
HT: Well, take it as read that we have now. Quite startlingly dim,
AH: Um, thanks.
HT: One last thing. Soon you'll be getting heavily into Ultravox.
Try to grow a Midge Ure moustache as you'll soon be appearing in the local
independent press and we like a laugh. By the way, you don't need that
TARDIS Tuner, do you? Or that Chad Valley Give-A-Show Projector? Mind if
we snaffle 'em?
Alan Hayes (aged 47½), 2012