As you know, we’ve been spending a great deal of time together lately, me helping you memorize your lines for Sherlock and The Hobbit and Star Trek, you distracting me from my writing by making me download your sultry voice reading audio book mysteries and watching Sherlock. I’ve greatly enjoyed every bit of it.
Perhaps a little too much.
You see, as much as it pains me to say this, I think we need to make a few adjustments to our relationship. When I can’t get the words down on the page and into the manuscript I’m working on because I hear your voice in my head telling me to write salacious dialogue in my YA novel, then I know things have gone a little off track.
It’s not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed getting to know you, I really have. The time I’ve spent watching you on Sherlock has been nothing less than divine. Coming up with practical jokes to play on Martin Freeman has been a blast. And don’t even get me started on that voice. You know I am a sucker for a guy with a British accent. Pair that with your deep, baritone voice and I begin to swoon and… well… let’s just leave it at that, shall we?
So, what was I talking about? Oh right, redefining our relationship.
Here’s the deal: I really do have to resume work on my manuscript. I simply have to. It’s what I do. I’m a writer. Or at least I was before meeting you. I was on a roll and now that you’ve been feeding me dialogue and plot points that have nothing to do my original story, I’m all of out of sorts. My writing mojo has been highjacked and I’m a bit off course. O.K., a lot off course. Seeds of doubt have taken root. And while I could listen to you talk all day, if you continue to linger around, I won’t… be… able… to…
Sorry, now what was I saying?
Oh yes, redefining things. So, like I was saying, I need to get back on track with my writing. And then there’s this blog, you see, and I’ve even had to preempt my regularly scheduled Weekend Road Trip post to write you this letter and…
Wait a minute.
I have an idea.
A potentially brilliant idea.
Could it work?
I think it might.
What is it, you ask?
It’s obvious, isn’t it?
I think I’ve found a way for us to remain good friends without me getting so sidetracked.
I mean, I know you can’t help it. You’ve got loads of talent, a sharp intellect, good looks… Oh, now don’t go on again about how you aren’t “classically” gorgeous or how certain movie parts might have been given to other actors based solely on their looks. Whatever. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: Your time has come. You’re on fire. Before you know it, you’ll have your own line of underwear like Mario Lopez. And speaking of undergarments, there are thousands and thousands of women with their panties in a twist over you. The Huffington Post has even declared that there’s a “Benedict Cumberbatch Situation” going on. And I know you’ve seen what’s being said about you on twitter. The fact that you haven’t let it go to your head makes you even more irresistable to everyone.
Oh yeah, and then there’s that voice. Don’t get me started again… on… um…
O.K., you really need to stop doing that.
As you no doubt read in a previous post about brownies, I really don’t need more ways to be distracted.
Now, where were we?
Oh, right, I was about to say that I’ve been doing a bit of research on the internet in hopes of finding an article that says you’ve done something dreadful or said something insulting so that I am less inclined to hang out with you. (I know, not a very friendly thing to do, but there it is.) I’m not talking about something as bad as clubbing baby seals or a drug problem or being seen with prostitutes or a serious personality disorder. And no, I’m not talking about having a “bad boy” side, either. Overrated and overdone and frankly, that’s pandering and beneath you. There’s got to be something that shows you’re a bit flawed like the rest of us. But all I can find is interview after interview where you’re confident yet humble, well-spoken, and intelligent. A trifecta of goodness.
Maybe you could do me a solid and give me something to take you off your pedestal in my mind for a bit? Please? It’s not going to be easy to redefine this relationship if you continue being your delightful self all the freakin’ time.
Hey now, don’t go giving me that look. I’m seriously considering changing my password so you stop sending me these photos and interrupting my letter.
Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get back to my idea.
I think we need to only communicate by email for a while. That way we can limit the woozy, light-headedness I get when you talk to me directly. You can tell me about all of the goings-on in your life and I can share them with my readers here. Without you distracting me, I will then be able to stay focused on all of the important things I need to do. Important things like writing. Or finding things other than Sherlock to talk about with my friends and family. Or practicing my British accent when I am at home alone. IMPORTANT THINGS, Benedict. IMPORTANT.
I know, I know, it means we’ll be hanging out less frequently. But I’m sure you’ll understand. It’s all for art’s sake, right? You know that better than I how important the craft is and why we need to regularly feed it and exercise it.
And you’ll be brilliant as a contributing author here. Obviously. I think my readers will appreciate the fresh perspective you’ll bring seeing as I’m not a classy actor like yourself.
If you are not in agreement with this proposal, then send word to meet me at the cafe. You know the one. If I don’t hear from you, then I’ll take that as implicit agreement and look forward to your emails.
So, until we meet again, I’ll be anxiously awaiting the release of your new movies as well as the upcoming second series of Sherlock. Until then, I’ll just have to get by on listening to you read to me on the book you made me download and watching Sherlock 843 more times.
Yours truly and bit salaciously,
*Editor’s note: The views, ideas, and opinions expressed in the Letters from Benedict series are works of fiction and obviously did not come from the actor himself. This series is just my way of expressing adoration for Mr. Cumberbatch and his work and is not intended to be taken at face value or seen as a true collaborative writing endeavor with him.