The Fan Letter by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

the Zenith picture “Mutiny of Love at Sea.” He hated the title. He hated his role as the captain. He hated his perfunctory lines. He hated…. No, he retracted, he hated Martin for his involvement.
    Phillip stretched out on his eight-foot sofa to go over his lines once more. He had already memorized them by the second reading, but felt he should review both the words and the action. He was still a professional and would still do the best he could with the material—such as it was.
    “Have you invited the Duchess to dine with me tonight? Good.”
    “Here, here! Stop this fight! You're officers. Now shake hands and remember you're also gentlemen.”
    “You dance well, Madam.”
    “What do you mean we are out of caviar?! That's impossible. Get me….”
    The script dropped onto his chest. Drivel. Silly drivel. Where were the interesting roles? Where was that Western he had read…when? Ten months ago? A year? Oh, yes, now he remembered. A riverboat gambler, a saloon girl, an archrival named…Jack. “The Time Police.” That was it. Now, what had happened to that script? It was different than anything they had done yet.
    He turned his head toward his desk. Bunny. He hadn't heard from her in months and wondered how her writing was coming along.
    He thought back to when his agent Bill had handed him her first letter and a very small script that was only about sixty pages long. This had now been Bunny's third attempt and it, too, centered on his Professor character. Bill had read both the letter and the story before passing them along to Phillip as was the policy for handling celebrity mail. Bill was, at first, a little concerned when he learned Phillip had personally contacted this writer, but, he too liked her short story. He could see the possible potential in a well-written, longer version. Bill had thought, as had Sarah, that a script would be more advantageous to Phillip's career than a book.
    Phillip shook his head and sighed. Didn't anyone trust his professional judgment? Bunny wasn't ready to write a script. She needed more experience. Extending her short stories into novel length and working with an agent to get them published was an excellent way for her to gain that experience. Was he the only one who realized this?
    Bunny had offered to send him a copy of her first novel to familiarize him with her new character and show how Jane arrived in “The Time Police” squad. It was then he recalled how he had dissuaded her. He told her he was overwhelmed with his own books and scripts.
    He picked up the script of “Mutiny of Love at Sea” from off his chest and dropped it to the floor. He knew over on the bookcase next to his desk were the scripts for “Senator Steve Goes to War,” “The Slasher's Guide to Love,” “The Nile—River That Time Forgot,” “Moonshine Madness,” and the ever-popular serial, “DMV—Part VI—The Senior's Revenge.” There were also a few costume dramas, two silly slapsticks that he didn't quite understand, and a science-fiction thriller. A three-hour Revolutionary War epic had been interesting, but Bill had only offered him the role of the officer who takes the first bullet.
    At least his sea captain film began rehearsal in a few days and would be over—for him—within two weeks. Then he would play the Professor again. That would take two and a half weeks. Then…nothing. Unless he agreed to take one of the repugnant offerings waiting on his bookcase.
    “Sorry, Bunny,” he muttered as his eyes closed. “I'm just too overwhelmed.”
    T he phone rang in Sarah Beck's suite at the Tokyo Imperial Hotel.
    “Miss Beck's room. This is Mr. Thomas. Can I help you?”
    A static-filled voice replied, “This is Phillip. Can I talk to my wife, please?”
    “Who is this?” Marty demanded with a smug grin. “I can hardly hear you. Bad connection.”
    “Phillip here,” he shouted. “Let me talk to Sarah.”
    “Phillip? She can't come to the phone,” Martin yelled back,