An excerpt from Doctor Huh?!, a book in progress.

3 September, 2004: The Making of a Logo

“Right,” said Russell T Davies, pouring himself another mug of tea before turning back to his art team. “Now, on to the next issue; the logo. Suggestions?”

“Let’s reuse the Diamond Logo,” said junior graphic designer Gavin Kay, as he spread butter onto a fresh bagel from the heaping breakfast platter in the middle of the table. “Everyone loves it, don’t they? Americans love it.”

“Oh, please,” said Jeff Filby, an argumentative designer with red hair. “We’re not about retro, are we? We’re trying to bring Doctor Who into the here and now, and we’re not going to do that by using Tom Bloody Baker’s insignia.

“The Pertwee one from the McGann film?” asked Gavin. “We could make the ‘R’ more different.”

“Naff off,” replied Jeff, flipping a soggy toast soldier at Gavin in what he’d hoped was a dismissive manner.

“I’m inclined to agree with Jeff,” replied Russell while slicing an apple from the tray.

“You want me to naff off, too?” pouted Gavin.

“No, no! Well, yes, a bit if I’m being honest. Sorry,” replied the producer around an apple slice. “But I was mostly referring to the 'here and now’ business, we need something new.”

“Diamonds are retro, new shape time,” pitched Dianna Grey, a seasoned graphic artist, around a mouthful of clotted cream. “What shape is modern? New shape time. Hot shapes, trendsetting shapes. Remember when the BBC made their moldy old rhombus letters square? That excited people.”

Russell raised an eyebrow. “Who, precisely, did that excite?”

“It excited the lucky git who got paid for that redesign,” mumbled Jeff. “One squish 17.5 degrees to the left, job done, deposit the check.”

“New shape,” intoned Russell while stirring sugar into his third mug of tea. “Newwwwww shaaaaaape.”

“Triangle?” offered Gavin.

“You want to bring us into the here and now with half a bloody diamond?” growled Jeff.

“I just-”

“Naff off some more, Gavin.”

“New shape!” barked Russell.

“New shape,” agreed Dianna.

“New shape,” reiterated Russell.

“New shape,” added Jeff.

All eyes turned toward Gavin, whose eyes widened like a deer in headlights as the pressure in the room seemed to steadily increase.

“Erm..” Gavin’s brow furrowed and his eyes shifted from side to side. “…new shape?”

The room’s atmosphere quickly relaxed, with even Jeff seeming to acknowledge Gavin’s apparently successful addition to the proceedings for once.

Invigorated by the unexpected acceptance, an idea sparked and Gavin grabbed an orange from the platter. “Right, look at this…” Grabbing a felt pen from the table, he wrote “DOCTOR WHO” in crisp letters across the fruit’s skin. He held it up proudly. “Spheres are a good shape! Everyone likes a sphere.”

“A circle logo?” Dianna frowned, unsure.

“Ugh,” groaned Jeff. “Are you not as sick of those BBC balloon idents as everyone else?”

Gavin sighed, his burst of newfound confidence beginning to slip away. “You’re right, I suppose.” He sadly rolled the orange away from himself. The scrawled-upon citrus fruit rolled across the table toward Russell who, having polished off the last of his apple, grabbed the orange and idly quartered it. It was getting depressing around here, thought Russell; there ought to be a way to cheer his art team up.

Remembering a favorite breakfast joke from his childhood, he shoved an orange quarter entirely into his mouth and bit down. “Look, everyone,” he attempted to say around the wedge of fruit blocking his mouth, “I’m Mr. Orange Teeth!” It came out more like “miftuh uhngch teef.“ Undaunted and determined to lighten up the proceedings, he began to sing the name in something vaguely resembling the Button Moon theme tune. “It’s Mr. Orange Teeth, yes Mr. Orange Teeth…”

Dodging the sprays of orange juice diluted with producer saliva, Dianna noticed that the slice in her esteemed producer’s mouth happened to contain the text Gavin had written on the fruit. Russell’s mouth precisely framed the handwritten words “DOCTOR WHO” on the orange skin in a stretched parted-lips-shape, framed in a cloud of droplets. Her eyes widened, and before she realized what she was doing she had already leapt across the table at Russell and began to arrange her suddenly-frightened employer into an elaborate headlock, wrenching his terrified citrus-encumbered face toward her colleagues. “Take a photo,” she shouted to the team, “someone take a photo now! Quickly, before he coughs!”

Russell, from his view, was beginning to worry about the sanity of his art staff more then usual as his art director wrestled him to the floor. The other designers, unsure of this was a helpful part of proceedings but unwilling to disobey the orders of someone who displayed such an aptitude for executing a life-endangering flying tackle during breakfast, brought out their camera phones and began snapping photos of the unexpected melee.

After about half a minute, during which spots formed at the edges of Russell’s vision and a multitude of interesting ways to say “you’re fired, Dianna” formed in his mind, the artist released her grip and clutched at the nearest camera phone, furiously examining its screen. Russell spat the orange slice out toward the nearest blurry figure and took a couple of deep breaths; one to dispel the slight dizziness, and the next to fuel the first real profanity of the day before he noticed the mobile phone Dianna was thrusting toward his face.

The significance of the photographic image on the phone’s tiny screen depicting the “DOCTOR WHO” orange slice, shaped into a perfect crescent by Russell’s terrified grimace and surrounded by a mist of pulp and droplets, struck him immediately. He turned, wide-eyed, back to Dianna, an unspoken question on his sticky lips.

“New shape,” Dianna confirmed, calmly peeling the remains of the chewed orange slice from her hair.

Russell smiled slowly, procuring a napkin from the table to clean the syrupy orange mess from his face. “Hooray!”

Scant days later the orange, textured Crescent Logo, surrounded with a liberal sprinkling of dribbly sparkles, pulpy stripes, and glistening lens flare, was returned to the fledgling Doctor Who production office with a stamp of approval from the BBC. The production was well on its way.

This has been a brief sample of the unique and untrue look at Doctor Who history to be found in the book Doctor Huh?!, live now on Kickstarter. Go to Book.DoctorWhoFacts.net to preorder your copy of the full-length book right now, while there is still time!