The Words

The Words,

by me.

Part one.

"The old man stood in the rain.

He watched as Rory and Dora Jansen made their way to the limo.

Somehow it seemed as if the raindrops missed them."

Thank you. Good night.

Ah...

No, no, tell Mom not to worry. Look, we just want her to feel better, okay?

All right?

Yeah. No, no. She brought her camera. They're gonna take a lot of pictures.

There's a lot of photographers there. It's an event, Dad.

Okay, all right, we got-- Yes, yes.

We love you too. Love you, Chuckles.

Bye.

Ha-ha-ha. My parents are very excited.

And they love you very much.

Are you excited?

Yeah, sure, it's a big night, right?

It's a big honor.

Baby, it's-- You're just nervous. It's normal.

I'm just a little overwhelmed, you know?

I didn't expect any of this.

Where are you? Hm?

It was supposed to be a little book, you know?

I know.

So nice that you could make time for our little award.

We know you're busy. The pleasure's all ours.

No. Come now. Your book is fabulous. But, of course, you know that.

You've read all the reviews. Ha, ha, ha!

The Window Tears has introduced us to the one of the most exciting

and sensitive young writers

to appear on the literary horizon in a very long time.

We are privileged to have with us here tonight

the winner of this year's American Fellowship of Arts and Letters Award,

Mr. Rory Jansen.

Thank you.

I simply tried to set down the truth as I imagined it.

The story of one man, his wife and child.

I never thought a little book like this would affect so many different people.

I only wish I had an idea for my second book.

I don't want to take up any more of your time.

I'll just end by saying

that the honor this evening is truly all mine. Thank you.

Rory Jansen had everything he had ever dreamed of.

But somewhere, the old man was waiting.

And he would change everything.

"Right after college, they moved to Brooklyn.

They found a first floor loft in an old factory.

It was five years before the book and the awards,

but Rory already knew what his life was supposed to look like."

So straight back there. That's it.

Keep going? Like two more feet.

Okay, here? Yeah.

Let it go. Just let go?

He loved her.

Dora?

He loved New York. You're gonna drop me. Heh-heh-heh.

He loved fighting to make the rent.

Fighting to make his art.

Living like all the great writers he had idolized.

Okay, I think we should put pictures up there.

Mm-hm.

And I think your desk is fine where it's at over there.

And I think we should paint the bathroom pink.

Never. Ha-ha-ha.

"A young, struggling writer, fighting to make his voice heard.

He liked cheap bottles of wine.

How much is it? It's 20 dollars.

And nothing to do with his days but wander the streets.

Oh.

It matches my eyes. What do you want me to do?

But at night, when the rest of the city slept,

he wrote."

Thanks, babe.

Just doing a final pass. Ahem.

And then what?

And then I'm gonna head into an agent that Professor Waller recommended.

And then what?

And then we're gonna celebrate.

But we don't have any money.

Shh. Then we're gonna celebrate.

Just gotta finish this.

Babe. Mm?

Babe.

Babe. Come on, I gotta finish this.

Okay, I gotta finish this. Heh. Heh-heh. Fine.

But you're missing out.

Finished.

Well, if he doesn't want to do it, he doesn't want to do it.

Listen, I said I'll try.

What do you mean? Of course that's my word.

I gotta know by Wednesday, that's when I place the orders.

I'll call you back. Goodbye. Working hard?

All I do is put out fires. It never stops.

Listen, I know you're busy, so, uh, I'm gonna come at you straight, okay?

Let's go into my office.

How much?

Just enough for the next month to cover us.

And then what? You show up again here next month?

I got my book into an agent, says it's got potential.

Did they give you any money?

No, but, Dad, it doesn't work like that. It's not like your business, okay?

It's not like you do work, you get paid for it, okay?

I gotta pay my dues. No, I gotta pay your dues, right?

Look, I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need it.

You think I like coming down here like this?

You think I like saying no?

I feel like I'm hurting you more than helping you.

You gotta take responsibility for your life.

I've been taking responsibility for my life.

I've had a job since I was 15. I was a busboy.

Okay, we decided two years ago

I was gonna dedicate myself to being a writer.

We had this conversation in the living room.

Mom was right there. She agreed-- But it's been a while.

So maybe now this should be a hobby

instead of a profession until you get your feet on the ground.

Well, thanks for the encouragement, Pop.

What about Dora? What about Dora?

Well, I mean, you got to have money before you get married.

You know what? I'm sorry I wasted your time.

Come here! Hey, sit down! Sit down.

Talking about marriage...?

What are you, 11?

This is the last time.

You gotta get a job, something steady, support yourself.

That's just part of being a man.

I'm trying to be a man, Dad.

Another part of being a man,

no matter how painful it might be, is accepting your own limitations.

Come here.

I love you. I love you.

I'm gonna pay you back, you know. Yeah.

Yeah. Hey, you can always work here.

Ha-ha. We'd kill each other.

"He continued to write,

believing he had a story to tell.

He sent his work anywhere they might publish him.

But all he heard back was rejection, disinterest,

or the loudest sound of all:

Silence.

Finally, the great writer, Rory Jansen was forced to take a day job.

He found a position at one of the biggest publishing houses

in New York, hoping to make some connections."

I made a million connections here.

What, you're a writer? Yeah.

I got all my stuff into different agents around here.

I'm actually glad it's taking me a while to break through.

It's given me a chance to develop my style, understand the market.

So, what kind of stuff do you write?

Uh, angry young men, I guess. Ha-ha-ha.

I used to be like that.

Now I write sci-fi.

You mature, you know. Just give it time.

Ah...

Are you gonna write tonight? Uh...

I'll just stay in and watch a movie or get food or something. Ahem.

Okay.

"Without even knowing it, they had settled into their lives.

And on a Friday afternoon, they were married at City Hall.

They honeymooned in Paris."

You ready?

Yup.

Two minutes, okay?

Just two more minutes. No more antique shops.

Mm, thank you. Put that down.

Rory. Klondike 474.

Repeat 47...

What do you think of this? It's like some...

Oh.

That's nice.

What do you think of it?

I think it's old.

I think it's great.

I feel like if we clean it up, you can use it for work.

Yeah? It's classy.

I'm gonna get it for you.

Thank you, Mrs. Jansen.

They returned to New York, and the honeymoon was over.

All mail and packages go to the assistants only.

Hey, Irene.

"And then, with no warning at all,

Rory got the call that he had been waiting for."

Thank you. Heh-heh-heh. Okay.

Thank you very much. All right, okay.

The agent had a reputation for impeccable taste

and discovering young literary stars.

It's good.