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.

You 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.

That 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 light of mine.

I'd sometimes sneak away,

braving the gold and green marsh grass up to my neck,

soft sun peaking through patches of spanish moss,

heat and light upon my face...

What I imagined god felt like.

But as the tides moved out,

that sun shrunk away

on the journey

of a single day.

Hey, you boys want some of this while I got it out?

Why don't you shut the hell up?

Whoo!

You ready?

Keep your panties on.

Hey!

Pick you up at 10?

Yeah.

You'll be there, right?

- Yeah. - Hmm, yeah?

'Cause we need you.

Shit.

10.

He'd been a friend since seventh grade.

But my mom returned us to these waterways of her family.

I got caught crying in a hallway,

and he chased the other kids away as they laughed.

Bye, Joseph! Whoo!

A warrior suddenly at my side.

Most of the time I shut myself off,

drifting back into a dark cloud,

a slow fall.

They called it depression

and asked if I was having thoughts about suicide.

I lied and said no.

Where you been?

Nowhere.

Allison called.

They said you should be there by 8.

The pain is a curse

handed down from my father...

Let's remember, as the bread nourishes our bodies and our minds,

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 release.

- What up? - Nothing.

I bet you $1.99

You ain't got off that damn couch all day.

Asshole.

- What are you doing? - Nothing.

- What did you take? - It's nothing.

Dick, give it back!

I'm gonna kick your ass, Howard!

Right.

You ain't gonna do shit.

Joseph, come in.

You all know Joseph, Charlie's little brother.

Yeah, 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 ya.

Quite the charmer.

Let him be.

The only thing that confuses me

is how you got an invite to my party.

Joseph.

How you doin', buddy?

I'm all right.

Staying in trouble?

No.

Oh, bullshit.

Hey, let me go say hey to some people.

I'll catch up with you in a sec, okay?

All right.

Where's my wife?

Charlie was my half brother,

abandoned by my father when he was 10.

He made good by being himself,

a wide space between him and me.

That's true. It's not... it's not bad.

You 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.

Okay, the eagle soaring through the air achieves

because of three things...

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

All right, our role is to accept that who we are

is absolutely integral to that,

and stop fighting against this concept of our value.

And to recognize that the world cannot be

what it's determined to be without us as we are.

What did you think, Joe?

I liked it.

See there? There you go.

Youth of america likes it.

Yeah?

What the hell you doing in here?

Nothing.

Car's in my way.

Fine. I had to get jay anyway.

You best get to cleaning this place out

...like I keep telling you. - Yeah, whatever.

What the hell did you say?

You live here for free. Barely got outta high school.

Hell, you don't even have a goddamn job.

You startin' to amount to jack shit, you know that?

I don't know why 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?

Who said I was thinking about school?

Charlie.

You should, you know?

You'd do well.

I was alone,

but I would on occasion take company in other folks.

Not through easy conversation or eye contact.

Instead, I'd make up stories about them,

where they came from, based on a sideways glance...

Or that night, a little more.

How's it going?

All right.

You from around here?

Yeah.

You?

Not far.

Your daddy a preacher?

Yeah.

Yeah.

You got the head of a preacher.

They way it curves wide.

Hmm.

The holy spirit...

It left its mark on you.

The eye of god...

There.

You 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. - Hmm.

- Easy there, tiger. - Mmm-Mmm.

We gotta get ready soon.

What are we gonna do?

Pay attention...

And we'll get paid.

You know my cousin down in ocracoke.

Yeah, he's lousy when it comes to drinking,

but he sniffs out the hot spots.

Told me about a little juke joint

around the island he'd been frequenting,

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

And some serious smoothness showed up with a plan.

Tax time, baby! Let's go!

These three dudes come in with shotguns

holding the place up.

One took on a cash box, gettin' it all emptied out.

The other two watched 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 was too drunk

to do anything about it.

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

Hell, they'd 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, the crannies.

All anybody knew was it was three black fellas,

smart as hell,

Quiet as a pack of church mice.

Legends.

- It smells like pussy. - Mm-Hmm.

This shit's serious, man.

What, you think I don't know that?

Ain't gonna do jack shit.

How much you think we'd get?

Enough.

My man.

Uh, uh, uh, uh!

What?

What do you think?

You look funny.

Yeah?

Well, huckleberry here is gonna save your ass.

- Shit. - Shit, nothin'.

Sick and tired of busting my ass to buy a six pack.

About to change that shit.

Be a man about it.

Puff it out a little bit.

- Especially you. - Hmm?

That shit you write.

Yeah, that's right.

I see what you do.

You don't wanna tell me, ain't no skin off my ass.

Folks look at me, they look at my pops,

and they figure that's all they ever gonna get,

a punk-ass brawler.

But you...

You're different.

Step it up, jack.

Hmm?

We weren't gonna hurt anyone.

Gun wasn't even loaded.

Courage was his weapon.

Let's go.

Perfect.

I don't know. I don't know, man.

Look, no second thoughts. Just get in there and do it.

Two minutes from now we're gonna be on our way.

Put 'em on.

Don't move!

Fill it!

God damn it!

Come on!

All right, then.

That's it.

What the hell?

I'm sorry.

If anybody asks,

the name's Leroy.

Come on! Come on! Come on!

That's your memory?

And now?

I know what it feels like to be depressed.

Mm-Hmm, 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 did I tell you, huh?

Maybe you ain't such a dumb-ass after all.

Whoo!

That was messed up when that guy pulled that gun.

That freaked me out.

You saw it happen, didn't ya?

Look, man, you gotta speak up.

All right, that could have been bad.

Whoa-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha!

Good, he's here.

Rusty!

- This place is a dump. - A fuckin' rager.

Rusty?

- He's sleeping. - No shit.

Oh, what's that smell?

I think it's piss.

Rust! Rusty!

Is he alive?

- Two. - Three.

I got it.

What up, buddy?

Yeah, take a shower, you stink-ass!

Who the hell are you guys?

How the hell you been?

Good.

I'm good, you know.

You packin'?

Man, that better not be the only reason

you come to see me.

Of course, it ain't. I love me some Russel.

Yeah, right.

What you got?

You'll like this.

Good stuff?

It's the two f's of "stuff".

Get your feet off my couch.

Hell, yeah! Look, it's over an ounce.

Only 'cause your boy here is such a bad-ass.

Usually, there's a ceiling on this shit.

Ounce of that shit, too.

Sure you got this kinda dough?

Yeah, I've been working.

Hey, do you still 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 elephantitis and shit.

- That's what I said. - Yeah? She ain't that 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?

Do you want me to write it down for you?

What about 'shrooms? 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?

- Whoo! - Hey, you watch your neck.

All right?

See you soon.

Sooner than later.

Whoo!

Dumb-asses.

Man, that guy's cool as hell.

When's the last time you saw him?

He's kinda laying low.

How come?

It was about a year ago,

Rusty convinced me to go see some chick, to his beach.

He was drunk as hell when he picked me up.

And three hours later, we was both gone.

Hey! Howdy.

Hey, you know where...

You know where "it'll do" is?

Excuse me?

"It'll do?" It's my girl's place.

Son, I have no idea what you're talking about,

but I suggest you move on.

- Well, I suggest you... - Oh, great.

- Thanks for nothin'. - Mm-Hmm.

You gonna let her talk to you like that?

You know what? No.

Hey!

That's right, see?

I know you know this place.

What place is that?

My girl's house, you bitch.

Hey, where's the acid?

Watch it.

Rusty had brought a sheet of acid

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.

He shoved them up his ass.

Enjoy yourself.

They never found the hits,

so they just left him alone to sleep it off,

but he wasn't doin' much sleepin'.

What you writin'?

- Nothin'. - Hmm? What you writin' over here?

What is this? You gonna let me grab it like that, huh?

- Come on! - I don't know.

Just stuff.

That's fascinating.

Stuff.

Ooh! Hey!

Hey, baby!

Your mama let you date?

Why don't you get bit, asswipe?

Now that's a piece of ass.

Whoa, dude, who let shamu out?

Yeah, maybe she'd let you bend her like a suitcase, huh?

Doubtful. Doubtful.

Yeah, I'm good.

A-wastin' time.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Look, I just got a single. This is good.

I mean, yeah, that's a good improvement.

- I just... - Oh, yeah.

He saw me looking.

Way to go.

How's it going?

What?

Nothing.

I'm Alan.

What?

The name's Alan.

Hey, Alan.

What's so funny?

Nothing much, Alan.

- I'm Rebecca. - I'm Asia.

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.

Fix me.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I do. Dude, there's no shaking the habit.

Whatever. Oh, are you...

- Cute. - Oh, are you kidding me?

- Whoa. - What?

Watch it, punk.

Sorry.

Yeah, you're damn straight you're sorry.

I oughta beat your ass.

Little faggot.

Look at ya, a couple of sorry sons of bitches.

Dude, get outta my face.

Let's go.

Where we going?

It's gonna rain.

It's gonna rain.

Fuckin' weather man over there.

Keepin' dry?

My whistle sure as hell is.

What can I get y'all?

Three shots of bourbon.

Y'all get yourself one, too.

I can do that.

To the barkeep.

Whoo! Let's do this!

- Y'all set? - Think so.

Keep 'em coming.

Oh, hey...

Where the hell are you going?

I gotta get outta here.

Uh-Uh, we, uh... we have to finish this whiskey.

Uh-Uh.

I can't drink that.

Yeah, you can.

I don't want it.

Aw, Joseph, quit being a pussy.

You're an asshole.

I'm the asshole, hmm?

That's rich.

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

I never seen you with a chick,

never seen you with anybody.

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

Fuck you!

I'm nothing.

You done?

Was that so bad, huh?

Where did you come from?

Same place you goin'.

This is all a gift,

a guide to your truth,

as real as this here sand and sea.

What is?

My story.

The one you seek.

Hey, man. You all right?

Yeah.

I'm fine.

Where's J?

Huh.

No idea.

Hey, man, you wanna get outta here?

We need some women.

Good luck. You look like shit.

I still get more ass than an ashtray.

Yeah, right.

Hey.

Hey.

- How's it goin'? - Good.

How are you?

I'm fine.

Stay clear.

She swooned for the moon.

Always be here.

What was that?

Just something I wrote.

"Swooned for the moon".

You're sweet.

There she is.

Oh, shit. She's smoking.

Let's go talk to her.

All right.

Hey.

Hey.

Where you been?

Just hangin'.

Y'all should go with us.

Where?

We'll figure it out.

What's up, chief?

Why don't you tell me?

You coming?

Oh, where 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 that up at playschool, hmm?

No, we got no place for you here.

Why don't you get your ass back home?

And why don't you walk your ass back

with your little cronies before you find yourself

in a situation you can't handle?

- Is that right? - Yeah, that's right.

You keep pushing, I'm gonna lay your ass out.

Whatever, man.

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 this story?

I think we're all probably feeling the same thing.

And there's never gonna be any comfort...

And a love out there from god,

but nowhere else...

To lighten the load.

When we...

We stop and be still...

And we know that ain't quite right.

See, all this...

This is born...

From some strange, deep-Seated love...

Some gentle hand that... 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 cower to that raging beast we call the devil.

We should be beating it back,

destroying it,

with the one weapon we have:

Faith.

Faith.

Without fear, ain't no courage.

Without pain, no strength!

Without doubts, no trust.

We are all put on a path to do better

in the wake of all that's not.

Oh, shit.

Will and weakness,

and joy and pain!

Carrying strength...

To dry mouths and parched lips...

Like water in a desert.

And like the brightest stars in the darkest night,

some good will come from this!

From all this!

Now, go on, boy. Go on and be free.

Be free.

Damn straight. Yeah, look at her.

So what now?

Where you going?

Home.

Guess we're leaving.

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.

Whatever.

Just get me home.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

You be good.

I will.

I'll see you later, brother.

When did you sneak in?

Just a little while ago. I hope that's okay.

Oh, of course. Everything all right?

Yeah.

Can I show you 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 Johns 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'd go from a 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 imagined 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

of the sun on my face.

It's rough, needs some work.

What do you think?

It's who I am.

The experiences that changed me.

Well, you'll have plenty of those.

Those are blessings that came with a voice.

Now use it.

- He's got nothin'. - No, man, he's great.

Hey, Joseph!

Hey, wait up.

Hey, was all that real?

Real to me.

It's a good answer.

Hey, let's go grab a beer.

Can't.

Gotta meet someone.

So what you got to say, edwin and darius?