Although it may have appeared I haven’t written much since June, that’s not quite true. Yes, my morning writing routine was sidetracked for the past few months—but not completely. As I’ve said before on these digital pages, beyond the blog posts are what appears under that “Books & Other Stories” menu on this site. And since June … pecking away whenever I got the chance … I’ve been writing what eventually became a short story* called Bit Player.
* I’ve recently learned that my short stories are too long to be short stories. Apparently, “Novelette” is my current storytelling sweet spot. It falls between “Short Story” (under 7500 words) and “Novella” (18,000 to 40,000 words). I know, it sounds made up, but apparently it’s a real thing.
Bit Player grew out of a blog post I wrote back in March (2020), at the start of the lockdown. In the post I told of my fascination with a bizarre video that was passed to me by a friend: a twenty-minute compilation of clips from the opening title sequence of the old TV show, Cannon, in which the narrator in the video lists every freaking guest star that ever appeared in the show. It’s nuts. Part of what makes it nuts is that it is a Quinn Martin Production. All of Quinn Martin’s shows of the 60s, 70s, and 80s were distinctive.
In the post I wrote:
For me, “A Quinn Martin Production” wasn’t about the writing, or the actors, or the performances. Oh no. My memory is VERY SPECIFIC. Look at those quotation marks around “A Quinn Martin Production.” They are there because Quinn Martin shows were all about the narration. Every single one of this guy’s TV shows had the same narrator announcing practically every facet of the program—even if it could be accomplished using a simple on-screen graphic or title.
The post became a remembrance of those hundreds of names … guest stars … B- and C-list actors who would never hit the big time. Their bread and butter was an “Also Starring” credit on Cannon, Barnaby Jones, or Dan August. As I wrote the post, I left the video on, listening to the audio playing softly in the background. And as it sometimes happens, a germ of an idea popped into my brain and traveled through my nervous system and commanded my fingers to type:
… this could be a Twilight Zone episode, in which the “Special Guest Star,” in an effort to achieve super-stardom, makes a foolish deal with the—
Hey, stop David. Don’t give away the farm.
Well, I don’t write TV shows, but I do love to lose myself at my keyboard and write stories. And the result this time is called Bit Player.
So, if every now and then, you like to hunker down with a Novelette (I know, it still sounds made up) of forty or so pages, you might consider the cautionary tale of one Mr. Jake Keltner:
Jake Keltner’s rise to fame would be spectacular. Too handsome to ignore, too talented to pass over. A brash, bright light in the firmament of Hollywood’s young leading men. Oscar’s golden light would shine upon him. Agents would kneel before him. Women would unashamedly throw themselves at him.
At least that’s the way Jake pictured it.
Now, after two years of bit parts and bad choices by an inept agent, Jake has had enough, and is taking control of his destiny.
But what Jake Keltner is about to learn is that the only starring role he’ll ever attain is the one he plays in real life: the handsome, young hotshot doomed to sabotage a sure thing by taking an ill-advised shortcut to the top.
Bit Player
Part of the book
Punk Party and Other Accounts of Mischief
by David Beedle