Original subtitles

We've talked a lot so far about the nature of good storytelling.

But judging from your stories, it seems like a lot of you are just flapping in

the wind.

Without a voice, an instrument.

So how do we change that?

I know I respond to something more real.

Maybe something like a spontaneous overflow of emotion.

Spoken like a true romantic?

Give me too much credit.

No, if you're writing emotionally, you're writing selfishly.

You're not connecting with your audience.

So readers don't connect to a story with soul.

Is it a well-outlined plot you most respond to or emotion that reflects your

own human experience?

What matters is where it comes from.

It comes from you.

That's right.

That is right. And in that way, the best moments of writing are instinctive,

showing who we are and what it is we're processing from a place each

our own.

You up for sharing?

The church was small but strong, resting along the low country banks where my

father once preached.

On summer mornings, we'd have Sunday school alongside the cooling creeks,

listening to Bible stories and singing about this little lie to mine.

I'd sometimes sneak away, braving the golden green marsh grass up to my neck,

soft sun peeking through patches of Spanish moss, heat and light upon my

face.

what I imagine God felt like.

But as the tides moved out, that sun shrunk away on

the journey to single day.

If I go up there now, baby, like a dog in heat.

Hey, you boys want some of this while I got it out? Why don't you shut the hell

up? You ready?

Keep your panties on.

Hey.

Pick you up at 10?

Yeah.

You'll be there, right?

Yeah. Huh? Yeah?

Because we need you.

Ten.

We'd been friends since seventh grade, when my mom returned us to these

waterways with her family.

I got caught crying in a hallway and chased the other kids away as they

laughed.

A warrior, suddenly at my side.

Most of the time I shut myself off, drifting back into a dark cloud.

Slow fall.

They called it depression.

Then asked if I was having thoughts about suicide.

I lied.

Said no.

Where you been?

Allison called.

They said you should be there by eight.

The pain is a curse.

Hand it down for my father.

Let us remember, as the bread nourishes our bodies and our minds, and let it

nourish your soul and your faith.

Looking for something he'd never find.

But at times the pain explodes out of my mind and hand.

A sweet relief.

Nothing. I bet you $1.99 you ain't got off that damn couch all day.

What

are

you doing?

Nothing. What did you take?

Dick, get back!

I'm gonna kick your ass, Howard!

Right. You ain't gonna do shit.

Y'all know Joseph, Charlie's little brother.

What's up?

Come to drink all our beer and split?

Where's Charlie?

He's in the study.

Go find him.

He's been looking for you.

Quite the charmer.

Gonna be.

It means how you got an invite to my party.

Joseph.

What are you doing, buddy?

I'm all right.

Staying in trouble?

Yeah.

Bullshit.

Hey, let me go say hey to some people. I'll catch up with you in a second,

okay? All right, buddy.

Where's my wife?

Charlie was my half-brother, abandoned by my father when he was ten.

He made good by being himself, a wide space between him and me.

That's true. It's not bad.

You just seem to have all the answers, don't you?

I'm not saying I have all the answers, but we've all had those moments that

feel right, where we feel like we're at our best, where we're not bogged down

with self-doubt or fear, you know, where we trust in the world around us. Which

is what?

Faith.

Striving for some sense of hope, of peace.

The eagle soaring through the air achieves because of three things.

His wing, the wind, and his faith in both.

Our role is to accept that who we are is absolutely integral to that and to stop

fighting against the concept of our value and to recognize that the world

cannot be what it's determined to be without us as we are.

What do you think, Joe?

I like it.

See there?

There you go. Youth of America likes it.

Yeah.

What the hell are you doing in here?

Nothing.

Cars in my way.

You can best get to cleaning this place out like I keep telling you. Whatever.

The hell did you say?

Live here for free?

Barely got out of high school. Hey, you don't even have a goddamn job.

You starting to amount to jack shit, you know that?

You always give me such a hard time.

You don't know what a hard time is.

How is your mom doing?

She's okay.

Good.

Do you want some of this?

Yeah, sure.

So, are you still thinking about school?

You said I was thinking about school.

Charlie, you should, you know.

You did well.

You know I'm going back where I belong.

I said I'm going back.

I'm going back where I belong.

I was alone, but I would on occasion take company in other folks.

Not through easy conversation or eye contact.

That I make up stories about them.

Where they came from.

Based on a sideways glance.

Or that night.

A little more.

How's it going?

Alright.

You from around here?

Yeah.

You?

Not far.

You and Daddy a preacher?

Yeah.

Yeah.

You got the head of a preacher.

The way it curves wide.

He left his mark on you.

The eye of God.

There.

Use that sight.

You'll find your way.

Best get to it.

I saw something there.

A light.

An idea that would later live and breathe.

Forming like the crest of a breaking wave.

A reflection of what floats inside.

Finally.

Easy there, tiger.

We gotta get ready soon.

What are we gonna do?

Pay attention.

I won't get paid.

You know my cousin down in Oka Coke?

Yeah, he's lousy when it comes to drinking, but he sniffs out the hot

spot.

Told him about a little juke joint around the island he's been frequenting.

And what happened one night when they was all drunk as hell.

And some serious movement showed up for the plan.

These three dudes come in with shotguns, holding the place up.

One took on cash box, get it all emptied out.

The other two watch the crowd making sure some hillbilly don't play

vigilante.

Anything come up, they all get the hell out.

And by the time anyone was sober enough to realize what the hell was happening,

they was long gone.

Turns out they've been hitting joints all over the coast.

Stealing drunk folks money while they were too drunk to do anything about it.

And those folks sure as hell won't call in a pokey.

Hell, they bust up the stills and shut her down in two shakes. Wouldn't give a

rat's ass past that.

So they just kept on moving.

Hiding in the banks.

Scramming.

All anybody knew was it was three black fellas.

Smart as hell.

Quiet as a pack of church mice.

Legend.

Smells like pussy.

Mm-hmm.

This is serious, man.

What, you think I don't know that?

I ain't gonna do jack shit.

Dang.

How much you think we get?

Enough.

What? What do you think?

You look funny.

Yeah?

A huckleberry here is going to save your ass.

Shit, nothing.

I'm tired of busting my ass to buy a six-pack.

I'd rather change that shit.

I'd be mad about it.

I'd buff it out a little bit.

Especially you.

That shit you write.

Yeah, that's right.

I think what you do.

You want to tell me?

You know, skin off my ass.

The folks look at me, they look at my pops.

They figure that's all they're ever gonna get.

It's a punk-ass brawler.

But you...

Step it up, Jeff.

We weren't gonna hurt anyone.

Gun wasn't even loaded.

Courage was his weapon.

Just get in there and do it.

Two minutes from now, we'll be on our way.

If anybody asks the names of any Roy.

is

Thank you.

That's your memory.

And now.

I know what it feels like to be depressed.

But you have something he probably didn't have.

What's that?

Your imagination.

In response to this memory, a story came to me.

Of a quiet man, with unseen strength.

His horn, his voice.

Like the song that came from me.

Seeking a home.

A place in this world.

Holy shit!

Dude, there's like a thousand bucks back here. See, what I told you.

They eat such dumb ass after all.

I was messed up when that guy pulled that gun.

That freaked me out.

You saw it happen, didn't you?

But man, you better speak up.

That could have been bad.

My father once did go away to return.

Good. He's here.

What's this?

Don't fucking ranger.

I think it's pissed.

Ross, fire!

Rossi!

Is he alive?

One,

two, three.

I got it. What up, buddy?

Yeah, I can take a shower, you stink ass.

How the hell you been?

Good.

I'm good.

Yeah.

You packing?

Man, that better not be the only reason you come to see me.

Of course it ain't. I love me some Russell.

Yeah, right.

What you got?

You'll like this.

This stuff?

Put the two asses in the bath.

Get your feet off the couch.

Hell yeah.

Put this up in the ounce.

I'm gonna put your boy here.

He's such a badass.

Usually there's a ceiling on this shit.

Out to that shit, too.

Sure you got this kind of dough?

Yeah.

I've been working.

Hey, go hang out with that chick.

What's her name?

Lydia. Yeah, that's it.

You all still talk?

No, it's been a while.

Smart move, man.

That chick?

She got Elton Titus and shit.

That's what I'm saying.

Yeah, me and dad bad.

Her belly button's so big you could eat oatmeal out of it.

And get your feet off my couch.

Do I have to tell you twice? You want me to write it down for you? What about

streams? You want some of those too?

Somebody get the telephone, please.

Hey!

You the brains behind this operation?

Not hardly.

You don't talk much.

But, uh, who else would you rather ride with?

Hey!

Watch your neck.

All right, brother.

See you soon.

Send it later.

Woo!

Man,

that's cool as hell.

Once a lot of sun, you saw him.

Kind of laying low.

How come?

It was about a year ago.

Rusty convinced me to go see some pic to his feet.

Now, he was drunk as hell when he picked me up.

Three hours later, we was both back.

Hey!

Howdy. Hey, do you know where It'll Do is?

Excuse me?

It'll Do.

It's my girl's place.

Ben, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I suggest... You move on. Oh,

I forget people.

Oh, great.

Night for nothing.

You gonna let her talk to you like that?

You know what?

No.

Hey.

I brought faith.

I know you know the place.

What place is that?

My girl's house, you bitch.

Hey, where's the ass?

Watch it.

Rusty brought a sheet of ass to share with the girls.

Now, he didn't know what to do with it.

So he did what any clear-thinking drunk would do.

Shoved him up his ass.

They never found the hit so they just left him alone to sleep it off

But he wasn't doing much sleeping

What you writing?

Nothing. What you writing over here? What is this?

You gonna let me grab it like that?

Huh?

Come on.

I don't know.

Jeff.

Stop.

That's fascinating.

Yeah, maybe she lets you send her like, do Kate, huh?

You got me in misery.

A waste in time.

How's it going?

What? Nothing I'm Alan

What? The name's Alan

Nothing much, Alan.

And Rebecca.

I mean, sure.

My place of peace was always the water, where the loud buzz of fear and doubt

washed away, and all that remained was me, pure as a simple story.

His horn was a gift, beats of grace that sprung forth like a fountain.

soaring over a saltwater creek, made closer to the ocean with each stride.

But when the last note drifted down and then away, he was left with the same dry

sorrow, where fear lurked, and touch was cold as

midnight.

In those small hours, he'd look up into a black sea, dotted with stars like

lanterns on a foggy shore, lit for the lost fisherman.

Are you kidding me?

Whoa.

What, punk?

Sorry. Hey, damn straight, you're sorry. I had to beat your ass.

Little faggot.

Send me a seat on the carousel.

Play me an old song that we loved so well.

We'll keep on riding around and around.

Every night life's up and down.

Oh, love, the change.

Life's up and down.

Damned if we don't.

Damned if we do.

But I remain whole.

Each night I pray.

Good Lord, we'll find a way.

Look at ya.

Couple of sorry sons of bitches.

You killed my face.

Let's go.

Where are we going?

It's gonna rain.

It's gonna rain.

Fucking weatherman over there.

Keeping dry?

Got whistlers, sure as hell is.

Let me get you off.

Three shots of bourbon.

Y'all get yourself one too.

I can do that.

The bar keys.

Y'all set?

I think so.

Keep them coming.

We'll be right back.

How you doing?

How you doing?

Uh-uh.

We, uh... We gotta finish this whiskey.

I... I can't drink that.

Yeah, you can't.

I don't want it.

Uh, Joseph could be in a pussy.

But I'm the asshole.

That's rich.

You're a strange little bitch who never talks to nobody.

I've never seen you with a chick. I've never seen you with anybody.

You're just lucky Howard and I'd let you hang out with us. Fuck you!

You done?

Is that so bad, huh?

Where'd you come from?

Same place you going.

This is all a gift.

A guide to your truth.

As real as this here sand and sea.

What is it?

My story.

The one you see.

Hey, man.

You all right?

Yeah.

I'm fine.

Where's Jay?

No idea.

But, man, you want to get out of here?

We need some women.

Good luck. You look like shit.

I still get more ass than that dress.

Yeah. Right.

Hey Hey How's

it going?

Good How are you?

Fine

Stay clear.

She swooned from the moon.

I'll always be here.

What was that?

Just on my rope.

Land from the moon.

15.

There she is.

Oh, shit.

She's so cute.

It's too dark.

Huh?

Hey.

Hey.

Where you been?

Just hanging.

You want to go with us?

Where?

We'll figure it out.

What's up, Chief?

Why don't you tell me?

You coming?

Oh, well, where are you going?

That's really none of your business.

I'm about to make it some of my business.

That's a good one. You picked it up at play school?

No.

No, we got a place for you here.

Why don't you get your ass back home?

Why don't you walk your ass back to me, little cronies, before you find yourself

in a situation you can't handle? Is that right? Yeah, that's right.

Keep pushing. I'm going to lay your ass out.

You coming?

A deep silence overtook the plain, filling his heart with comfort.

He was home, protected by the great oaks that lorded over him,

entrusted with a flock to pasture.

Planters and craftsmen trekking to hear him speak and sing each sunlit Sunday

morning.

But darker waters lay yet another test.

The youngest son of a humble maid caught in the purse line of his daddy's shrimp

boat.

What world would allow such pain?

Let's go.

Okay.

Hey bitches, wait up!

What dark heart of God lay shadow to the door?

I think we all probably feel the same thing.

And there's never going to be any comfort

a love out there from God or nowhere else to

lighten the load.

When we stop and be

still, we know that ain't quite right.

This is born from some strange

deep-seated love.

Some gentle hand that knows and

wants what's best for us.

When fear and doubt comes down, we shouldn't be running

from it.

We shouldn't count to that raging beat we call the devil.

We should be beating it back, destroying it with the one weapon we

have.

to do better in the wake of all that's not.

Will and weakness and joy and pain

carry one grace to dry mouth

and parched lip like water in the desert.

Be free.

The road is long.

With a lot of bends.

Mapped in a way we're not meant to see.

Shifts that change everything we know.

I could be strong.

I wasn't useless.

It was better when I wasn't alone.

Joseph.

Joseph.

Joseph. Where are we?

Joseph's staying at his brother's.

You be good.

I will.

I'll see you later, brother.

Where did you sneak in?

Just a little while ago.

Hope that's okay.

Oh, of course.

Everything all right?

I'm afraid something.

I

released

it.

For the first time.

My own meager song of my own simple journey.

A march to courage.

Warriors at my side.

Howard started working on one of the horse farms on John's Island.

He met a sweet girl there.

A free spirit who liked him.

They settled together at her family's old house on the river, where she paints

old bottles and scraps of driftwood and sells them at a local gallery.

Most nights they smoke a J before dinner, and after a few beers, skinny

dip off the river shore.

Alan became a rigger on one of the cargo ships we used to watch float by.

About eight months ago, he dove from the deck 50 feet up to save a fallen sailor,

then held tight the unconscious body while the waves beat them both.

The man lived.

Alan was made third mate.

He bought a small cabin on one of the marsh rivers that used to bind us,

returning there every time they hit port, floating with the rise and fall of

tidal creeks.

I imagine he might watch me with pride from that perch.

Because gone are the days of the sort of fear that cut me at the knees.

It began with that bold kiss under a comfort moon from the first person I

shared my writing with.

And despite all my doubt, those words didn't strike me down.

They would return to me, tenfold.

With moments of connection that brought back that warmth.

That born-again feeling.

The sun on my face.

It's rough.

Need some work.

What do you think?

It's who I am.

Spirit, did that change me?

Well, you'll have plenty of those.

Those are, uh...

Wow, man, he's great. Hey, Joseph.

Hey, wait up.

Hey, was, uh, was all that real?

Real to me.

That's a good answer.

Hey, let's go grab a beer.

Can't.

Gotta meet tomorrow.

We'll be right back.

We ain't lost on the promised land.

On the promised land.

What you got to say, Edwin and Darius?

happening. We're