He's dead. Bugger off!
Oh, fuck.
All right, let's hear it.
Okay, um...
"'Dragons of Orion' is boring, absurd,
"and, frankly, it may only be fit for a prison library
"as an added form of punishment.
"This is the third subpar release in a row
"from the once renowned publishing house
"of J.F. Stanbridge.
"It's difficult to tell if Lucy Stanbridge
"is trying to distance herself from the series literary fare
"that made the house relevant,
"or if she's simply not up to the task.
"Perhaps it's time to give it up, Lucy.
"You clearly didn't inherit your father's golden touch
for nurturing series material."
What does he know? Nothing.
Young adults don't read "The Times."
I mean...
Young adults do not read "The Times."
No, not "The Times."
What?
"Dragons of Orion" is dumb.
All caps, "dumb."
It's trying to be Harry Potter,
but it's not even a bad "Twilight."
- Who is that? - Tracy's book club.
She has over four million followers.
But seriously, who would write this?
I'd rather just starve
than read another page of this
- brain-sucking... - Oh, shit.
Mind torture of a book.
I have to get out of here.
You're the best.
You're the best, kiddo.
You're the best.
Shit.
Ugh.
Rachel, we need our own Drew Davis.
We need to look within.
This is not brain-sucking mind torture.
Burn it. We need relevant writers
that can make us relevant again, okay?
Who do we have in the pipeline?
Lily Dahl, next spring.
Libraries love her. Bookstores, not so much.
- Mario Actavio. - Mario Actavio. Yeah.
We need books that sell outside of Latin America, please.
Henry Dudston.
Yeah, you know, I got his first three chapters.
It's incomprehensible. I think he's using again.
- That's the pipeline. - That's the pipeline?
Everyone else is dead or unaffordable.
Really? Ahem...
Is there anyone, um...
I don't know, is there anyone dead we can revive?
Maybe a manuscript in the basement or something?
Maybe, but pointless.
- And he's not dead. - Who?
Harris Shaw.
Really? I thought he was dead.
Well, no one has heard of him since your dad published him.
What's his advance?
It was likely negotiated in the '70s,
so I'd imagine it's relatively small.
Let's look up his contract.
Wait, still, Lucy...
What?
He hasn't written anything since "Atomic Autumn."
So?
Actually, it's all he's ever written,
and that was almost 50 years ago.
Great. That means that he's had a lot of time
to come up with something new, right?
Let's do it.
I mean, he could be dead, actually.
Okay, am I crazy? Tell me I'm reading that right.
Um...
a $25,000 advance,
and it looks like it was already paid.
That means he owes us a book, right?
- No. - He owes us...
- I mean... - Oh, my God.
I wouldn't...
Harris Shaw owes us a goddamn book.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa. - Oh, yes.
This is exactly what we need. This... This could...
This could save the house.
Hold on. Hold on, there's more.
- There's more. There's more. - What? I knew it.
- Two books. - Ha.
The legendary Harris Shaw owes us a book.
Okay, stop mumbling.
- Say it out loud. Out, out. - There will be no edits.
There will be no edits or revisions to the draft
submitted by the author.
- Uh... - What?
Yeah. In exchange, the author must promote the book
in accordance with the publisher's request.
Let me see that. Why would my father agree to this?
Let's just forget about it
and move on to something more realistic, okay?
Well, doesn't matter. Harris Shaw is a legend...
- He's a drunk, he's a recluse. - He is someone that captures...
He's a madman, okay?
You know that story about he shot his assistant once...?
Let's try again.
Really? I mean, he's probably...
- What was it? - Okay.
9-1-4...
I'm sorry, darling.
You know?
I knew it was stupid and foolish and rubbishy.
You know bloody telephones.
Telephones are bullshite, aren't they?
Hey.
Bullshite.
This is crazy.
We don't even know if he lives in Westchester anymore.
Well, I don't know. I guess we'll find out.
Did you know he left Britain to evade taxes?
Yeah, a lot of famous people do that.
And he was thrown out of Ireland for disorderly behavior.
So? He's opinionated.
Ireland, Lucy.
They invented disorderly behavior.
And here we go again.
He shot his last assistant
because he mistook him for a bear.
- Oh, I don't believe that. - How is that even possible?
I don't believe... You can't believe everything
they put on those websites, okay?
Anyone can write that stuff. It's fiction.
- They went to court for it. - I don't believe it.
No way. He didn't shoot anyone.
We're screwed.
Okay, this is it.
189.
Holy parking tickets.
"Piss off."
- Yeah. - Hmm.
Well, it was a lovely drive.
Let's go.
Oh, come on. That's probably a joke.
Mm...
looks pretty serious.
Let's go around back.
Come on. Come on.
See, I think "piss off" pertains to the whole property.
We're just checking on him, okay?
Maybe he needs our help.
You don't know.
A lot of neighbors here.
Lucy!
You're officially trespassing.
Rachel, I don't care, okay?
We need this, all right?
Fine. Fine.
Probably dead.
Mummified in some rocking chair.
- Lucy! - It's an adventure, right?
"Piss off." It says, "piss off."
Mr. Shaw?
Okay, we're officially, officially trespassing.
It's fine.
Wow.
Look at all these books.
Oh! Oh!
Uh-oh! We're not bears!
We're not bears!
Didn't you see the signs?
I can't stand people who can't read.
I'm Lucy Stanbridge, from Stanbridge Publishing.
Thank you.
This is Rachel.
We're so sorry to disturb you.
Love what you've done with the place.
It's nice.
That's a beautiful cane.
What kind of wood is that?
Blue whale's dick.
Hmm.
Wow.
You're Joe's daughter.
Yes. I'm Lucy.
How is that venal, toughy-nosed old git?
Um, he's...
not, um...
Not what?
He left the company to me.
He left the company to you?
Yeah, that's what I said.
Joe spoke very highly of you, and can I just say,
"Atomic Autumn," wow, that novel is...
I heard your mother hung herself.
She suffered from depression.
Where's my check?
What check?
The piece of paper that you change for a sum of money,
the price of the reprint of "Atomic Autumn."
Yeah, no, that's not why we're here, Mr. Shaw.
Then why the bloody hell are you?
Good question.
We at Stanbridge Publishing were wondering
if you're working on anything new.
The world doesn't need anything new from me.
It's been a real pleasure, Mr. Shaw.
No, we're not done yet. On the contrary.
I think the world is ready for new words by you.
Specifically Stanbridge Publishing.
Rachel, contract.
Now, I know this is from a long time ago.
If you look here...
I believe that is your signature.
- Yeah. - Yes.
So as you can see,
you owe us a book.
Got any manuscripts collecting dust
on any of these shelves?
Come on.
Anything you want to show me?
I know my dad is the only editor you've ever worked with, but...
I mean, if I could do a tenth of what my dad did for you
and "Atomic Autumn," then I would have gotten you
a tenth of the way to a Pulitzer, right?
Whoa.
From the root to the fruit.
- You think that gun was loaded? - Think that cane was really...
Probably.
I live my life exactly as I want to
by my own rules and own standards.
Yeah, I've always been very interested in writing.
And I remember when I was a boy,
I always read books about great families and houses.
But is that... I mean,
that's really your sheet angle, isn't it?
My wife Elizabeth is a tremendous anchor for me,
is my whole life.
Well, the one thing you've both got in common
is extraordinary amounts of money that both of you...
I mean, do you think that you're worth it?
I remember when I left school,
everybody went into a regular job,
and I knew they were gonna get a good living all their lives.
Whereas I could have been penniless my entire life.
And I was paid on a gamble.
"Asshole.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you."
I'm really happy for you, Luce.
I am. It's a great deal for both of us.
Jack's right. We got a good deal here.
Sorry, the name of the publishing house
still stays intact.
Of course. Of course.
- Bottom of six. - Absolutely. Yeah.
- What are you doing? - Sod off.
Moron.
You cut me off, man.
Move your car!
You're in the fucking way.
- Get the fuck out of the way. - Oh, my God.
Lucy, I'm really not out to get you here.
Believe it or not, I'm actually trying to help.
I am selling you my catalogue,
and you're trying to help me, Jack? How is that?
I'm offering to keep your father's legacy intact.
His legacy is intact.
Of course it is. Of course.
Shit.
You think he should have given the company to you?
I... Did I say that? I never said that.
- You don't have to say it. - He, on the other hand,
always called me the son he never had, so...
- You weren't family. - No, that's true.
But I came pretty close, though, didn't I?
Don't bother. I know the way.
Holy shit.
Your pound of flesh, silver spoon.
You trying to drive up the price, is that what this is?
Well, a new Shaw book does add value to the catalogue.
Fine. Shoot me a number.
- There's no longer a number. - No, no, no, no.
There's publishing, there's marketing costs.
You're not equipped to handle this.
That's none of your business, is it?
He's got a cult following at best.
Hemingway had a cult following.
Yeah, Hemingway had Max Perkins to edit him.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Lucy, be realistic.
Your father shaped "Atomic Autumn"
into a best seller.
Who's going to edit this one? You?
"The Future Is X-Rated."
It sounds like something from the '80s.
How do you know if it's any good?
If my dad believed in him, I believe in him.
Nice weather we're having, huh?
Very much the same every day, so...
Every day, same... Same weather.
You are in over your head.
- What are you talking about? - Kid...
get me a Johnnie Walker Black Label.
Uh, okay.
It's not some silly YA novel.
It's out of your league. You know it and I know it.
Do we have any Black Label?
Get out.
Now.
It's fitting that the writer
who put this place on the map
is the man who's going to wipe it clear off.
Phil, we are publishing this manuscript, okay?
Well, he's right.
You can't afford the publishing costs,
let alone the advances on the books already coming in.
Well, then we will borrow it.
The banks aren't going to lend you any more,
not even with this.
Then transfer it from my trust.
Lucy, that trust was meant to look after you.
And I was meant to look after the publishing house.
Times have changed.
So how a book is released today
has become just as meaningful as its content.
I won't do the bloody tour.
Mr. Shaw, um...
Give me a call when the check comes in.
You are aware of the contract that you signed with my father.
The one that states that you do the tour,
or I edit the book.
So those are your choices.
I'll be damned if I let the incompetent hand
of nepotism molest my words...
silver spoon.
I'm just thinking about what's best for the book.
And you think that's you.
You snarky dilettante.
Those are your choices.
All right.
But just the tour.
Fine.
And you got to take care of Hemmy.
- Hemmy? - Hemmy's my cat.
He needs medical attention three times a day.
Great. Rachel's great with cats.
Jeez, my roommate, she's allergic to cats.
That's okay. You can stay at my place.
- Not a problem. - Okay.
Oh, yeah, and I'll need plenty of
Johnnie Walker Black Label,
White Wolf cigars,
and shelled peanuts.
The salted kind.
Of course.
Also, I don't want to get up before noon.
Um, I don't do interviews.
And I like my...
And now, it is my great pleasure to introduce a lion
of American literature.
One of the most controversial writers of our time...
a national treasure...
You know what? Make that an international treasure.
An iconoclast.
"An iconoclast."
The author of "The Future Is X-Rated"...
"Iconoclast."
Mr. Harris Shaw.
You would have loved that word, wouldn't you, darling?
Who the bloody hell are you staring at?
At least I wrote my own books.
His life's work has touched all of us.
"Iconoclast."
Harris Shaw?
Ah.
There he is.
Thank you. Thank you.
There he is.
Thank you.
Good evening.
I came here tonight to read to you
from my book.
But I have found...
a piece of literature
more compelling and more honest
than anything I could write.
And I want to share it with you tonight.
Penthouse.
September 1977.
"Lindsay had the ass of a 12-year-old boy."
"And the kind of tits
"that hung off her
like drops of fresh morning dew."
Dew. Dew.
So, the profile I made him is blowing up.
- It's off the charts. - Thank you for doing that.
Okay, I'll talk to you after. Bye.
Oh, my God, you really have the tiger by the tail here.
He's outrageous.
That's Harris Shaw.
That was absolutely horrifying.
But somehow you have over 20,000 followers already.
Incredible.
Christ had followers.
It didn't end well for him.
The Bible was a best seller, wasn't it?
Lucy Stanbridge. There you are.
Fuck. Shit, shit.
Okay, this man that is coming towards us
is an absolute nightmare.
He thinks he's Truman Capote. He has an insane ego.
You have to be nice to him.
And the great Harris Shaw.
Penthouse letters at a book launch.
Edgy.
Harris, this is Halpern Nolan,
the book reviewer for "The Times."
Yeah?
I don't like book critics.
Well, I can't help you there.
Did you have a look at my book, Halprick?
- It's Halpern. - It's Halpern.
I did.
And I found it frankly totally pessimistic.
- Well, it has a happy ending. - Please.
The last woman on earth is left barren,
and the last man is impotent.
And when they finally do conceive,
mother and baby die in childbirth.
How the hell is that a happy en...?
Harris.
You still are fucking up the best, Halprick.
- Harris, let him go. - You're bullshite.
You're all bullshite!
Harris, get off of him.
Jesus!
What the hell is the matter with you?
Nothing.
You will be hearing from my attorney.
Halpern.
You, stay. Halpern. Halpern.
Rachel? Call Phil.
Who are you looking at?
Fuck off.
- Halpern! - He tried to kill me.
I'm calling the police.
Fuck.
You can't cancel the reading.
The book is brilliant and Shaw is trending, okay?
You know what that means?
He's trending online, you know? Right up there with, uh...
Just hold on for a second.
Global warming and obese cats.
He is not homophobic, okay?
He hates everybody.
He hates children. He hates families. He hates me.
Line two.
And, in fact, "it's all bullshite"
is now the number two...
uh, most popular hashtag.
"Bullshite" is not a bad word.
It just means "bullshit" in British.
You know, British people are crazy.
And, by the way,
social media does not represent the real world, okay?
Hello?
No one has a problem with Harris Shaw.
He's a very kind old man who is a...
is a... is a legend.
You publish him first, okay?
So don't look at me like that.
- Yeah? - Hi.
How's it going?
Everyone's canceling.
The Lizard Lounge has it.
Mm-hmm. What?
The bar in Boston?
They just tweeted an invitation for Harris to do a reading.
Yeah, it's a bar. Forget it.
Not just any bar.
It's where Harris performed his spoken word back in the day.
It's where he read his unpublished stories.
- It's where your father... - Discovered him.
It's kind of perfect.
Book him.
And I'll go bail him out.
He's already booked.
Good.
Book any damn barn,
any city that canceled us.
We are doing this tour.
I am not riding in that crotch rocket.
Wee! Whoo!
Sorry. I am a good driver. I just...
This is backwards for me.
Whee!
This is exciting.
Man, I used to beg my dad to take me on book tours
when I was little.
But he never would.
He always told me that the road
was no place for a young girl.
So...
do you remember that cartoon
with the coyote and the roadrunner?
Do you remember that?
We used to watch it on television,
and my dad, he would point to the screen and say,
"You can come on tour with me when you're as quick
and crafty as that roadrunner."
And I never knew what that meant.
You don't want to talk?
I don't want to talk to you.
The roadrunner's top speed
is about 20 miles an hour.
And the coyote is 43-plus.
So this cartoon is bullshite.
Truth is always the first casualty.
It's all bullshite.
This is a book tour, you see?
So why don't I read something?
Eh?
- Whoo! - Come on, dude.
"Bullshite. Bullshite. Bullshite."
"Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite."
- Bullshite. - Bullshite!
Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite!
Yeah. Bullshite.
Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite!
Bullshite! Bullshite!
Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite!
He's great.
Yeah.
Yeah!
Just a reminder to everybody
that this man wrote a book.
That it's for sale right now.
I got it live.
Yeah, come on.
Another pour, will you?
Yes, finally, someone that reads.
Wow.
So, got T-shirts?
No.
I have books.
Uh...
yeah, you should sell T-shirts.
I'll keep that in mind.
Jeez.
I thought that went rather well.
You know, Harris, it would be helpful
if at the next reading
you would actually read from the book.
If you won't let me edit it,
at least let me sell it, okay, Harris?
Harris?
Don't forget the books.
What the fuck?
Bloody hell.
So...
I'm going to read from the book.
"Bullshite. Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite."
Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite!
Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite! Bullshite!
Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite.
Bullshite. Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite.
Bullshite. Bullshite.
Bullshite.
Bullshite! Bullshite!
I don't get it.
Hipsters are supposed to love old things, aren't they?
Thrift stores and vinyl.
Communism.
Why isn't the book selling?
We just haven't hit critical mass.
I may be in critical condition before that happens.
Can I take your order?
Hold on.
Oh... hi.
- I would like an... - Okay.
- Hi, can you hear me? - May I take your order?
Can you speak up?
Damn it.
Wow.
Hold on.
Trust funds, am I right?
Trust what?
Trust... and have fun, and-and...
and everything will be all right.
- That's my motto. - What are you talking about?
I don't need your stupid mottos, Rachel,
I need book sales.
- Excuse me? - Hi.
You can take my order. All right, you know what?
Forget it. Can I ask you a question?
- Hello? - Have you heard of Harris Shaw?
That old crazy dude from the Internet?
Yes, yes, him. Have you read his book?
He wrote a book?
He pissed on a book. I didn't know he wrote one.
Odd. This is what I'm talking about.
Something must be wrong.
Why don't you check with the vendors,
see if the book is placed prominently.
Of course, I'm on it.
See if something got lost in the system.
Are you going to order something?
What do you want?
Hi, I'm with Stanbridge Publishing.
This needs to be in the window.
Uh, we're actually focused
on female empowerment books this month.
Have you met Lucy Stanbridge?
She's the living embodiment of female empowerment, okay?
You know, if she were here right now,
she might even tell you to get your shit together.
So get your shit together.
Please.
Thanks.
Thank you.
What about talk shows?
He's too unpredictable for network TV.
But the booker at Fallon said maybe,
if there's a cancelation.
Yes, wake up!
Then cancel someone.
What do you mean, cancel someone?
I don't know, put out a hit.
Put some ether on a rag or something.
I don't care how you do it, just do it!
Oh, no, no, no. He's sleeping.
He's alive. He's sleeping.
He's an old man.
He's Harris Shaw, the famous author.
Let's go.
Do you want to buy a book?
I have...
- Wake up! - Lucy?
Harris, come on!
Why doesn't anyone want to buy your fucking book?
- Has Jack called? - Repeatedly. He won't stop.
And?
And...
you told me not to answer.
Okay, well, maybe next time you should.
Look, Harris is already a legend.
But he's also a brilliant writer.
Now, get him to read from the book.
That's...
God, you're funny, Rachel.
- I'm being serious. - I'm serious.
I'm nothing to Harris.
I can't get him to do anything.
All I am to him is is fucking driver
and his scotch Sherpa, okay?
You're Lucy Stanbridge.
You're also his editor and his publisher.
Right, two things he does not want me to be, believe me.
It's not happening.
Did you order something
from Logo & Go apparel?
I think they're T-shirts or something.
Uh...
What? I can't hear you.
You're breaking up.
Bugger off.
It's your alcohol!
They're 20 each.
Two for 35.
I'll throw in the book.
I'll throw in two books.
Give you a little discount.
You don't even have to buy it if you just wear it.
Dive bars and T-shirts.
It's impressive.
It's... It's...
It's part of the new
Harris Shaw lifestyle brand approach.
What's that, the Martha Stewart of hard living?
Mm-hmm.
Kale is out. Scotch is in.
Right.
What are you doing here?
Well, I've been following your tour
and, you know, I wanted to come check in on you.
You got time for a drink? I'm buying.
Okay, I just...
I just want to say,
just because I'm giving up
does not mean that I'm going to let you fuck me on this deal.
I don't...
I don't want to play any games.
No more games. I don't want to play games.
No more games.
I just feel like I have something that you want.
- Yeah. - And so,
I'm going to take full advantage of it.
- Okay. - So we'll just...
We'll just call Phil in the morning, right?
- It's already taken care of. - Okay.
- Wait. - What?
- What did you say? - It's already taken care of.
- It's done, it's good. - Wait, wait a minute.
How could you...
How could you two negotiate without me?
- It's my company. - Don't worry.
It's a fair number.
It's a lower number, isn't it?
Isn't it?
What?
Oh, Jesus.
Unbelievable.
Un-fucking-believable.
Of course it's a lower number.
- You're further in the hole now. - Oh, my God.
The book still adds value.
No one's interested in the book.
They're interested in this freak show...
We haven't hit critical mass, okay?
We're not there yet. But we will be.
You're dragging the man's legacy through the mud.
Oh, whatever. His...
Harris's legacy is on him, okay?
I'm talking about your father's.
Get out.
Oh, and when you talk to Phil in the morning,
please tell him that he's fucking fired.
The book needed a more cohesive shape.
A greater unifying thing.
A great editor strains
the metaphorical dregs from the wine,
and it's clear Mr. Shaw needs a great editor,
as this new vintage will not age well, I'm afraid.
Succinctly put, as usual, Mr. Nolan.
But do you think fans of Shaw's seminal novel, "Atomic Autumn,"
might still appreciate "The Future Is X-Rated"?
Mr. Shaw and I have our differences,
but this isn't personal.
The book is determined to offend every ideology
that apparently brought on its so-called event.
It's a laundry list of grievances
rather than a thoughtful examination
of how this world came to be.
So, what do you make of this so-called tour?
Well, while the book is far from perfect,
I think it deserves better than its author's urine.
If it's legitimacy the publisher's looking for,
a circus isn't the best way to achieve it.
To quote from the book itself,
"Art is not propaganda.
It's an expression of the truth."
"Art is not propaganda.
It is an expression of the truth."
Your words.
I want you to read from the book.
Go and get me another bloody bottle.
There will be no edits or revisions
to the draft submitted by the author.
In exchange, the author must promote the book
in accordance with the publisher's request.
I am the publisher,
and my request is that you read from the book.
It is not selling, okay?
No one is buying it.
You're not very good at your job, are you, silver spoon?
That is not fair.
You didn't even give me a chance to edit it.
This book needed a more cohesive shape.
A great unifying theme.
That's a quote from public radio.
We're not exactly Susan-bloody-Sontag, are we?
No, I'm...
From the root to the fruit.
What does that even mean?
It means that you don't have the fucking freedom
to tell me what to do.
If your words are so fucking perfect,
then why didn't you read from it?
Why don't you go and get me another fucking bottle.
Fine, drink yourself to death.
Meanwhile, I'm going to edit your fucking stupid book.
Look, this is me editing your book.
And I'm doing such a great job. You know why?
Because I got a perfect score on my SATs.
I got a 3.9 grade point average at Vassar.
I was president of my class every fucking year!
I was captain of the cross-country team.
I worked all the time, okay?
I had no friends and no personal life,
because I was working and I was really good at it.
Oh, but all that is bloody bullshite, isn't it?
It's all fucking bullshite.
I don't need this.
Neither do you, clearly.
Fine.
Go and get me a fucking bottle.
Go on.
Fucking hell.
Whoo.
Shh.
Ahem. Read! Read!
Read! Read!
Read! Read! Read!
Read! Read! Read! Read!
Read! Read! Read!
Read! Read! Read! Read!
Don't go now.
You guys, don't go now.
This is bullshite!
All right, I'll be back.
Start the music.
Hey.
You said you were going to read.
You fucking read it to them.
They're not here for me.
And I'm not fucking here for them.
You know what? It wouldn't matter anyway,
because no one fucking reads anymore.
Hashtag "bullshite!"
Read! Read! Read!
They're all pissed in there, you know.
Bunch of twits.
Bullshite!
Read! Read!
I'll be right back. Don't move.
Hey! Excuse me!
Bullshite, sir.
I'm really sorry, darling.
Really.
"Eden was gone.
"No longer within reach.
It seems God was done with mistakes."
Is that better?
And you're going to do the whole book like this?
Well, no.
I mean, just the best passages, sections.
Well, that was too melodramatic.
Okay, well, we can...
You can choose...
whatever you like.
Okay.
Mm-hmm. I'll try.
"The plate did not come from a pest or insect.
"It came from man gazing into his own navel
instead of into one another's eyes."
Is that what you were looking for?
What do you think?
Better.
Really? That wasn't too melodramatic for you?
What else you got?
I was thinking...
"The richest place on earth had become the graveyards,
because that's where dreams were buried."
That's some heavy shit.
"He was happy to die.
"Surrender was all he had left.
"Nothing more could happen to him.
Nothing more could be taken from him."
"Watching the only other person left on the planet die
"was a feeling like no other.
"The world instantly felt ten times as vast and cold,
and gravity seemed to loosen its grip."
"It was as if the murals she painted
"were always intended for him.
"He had become the stranger who might see them
and find hope."
"There were no phones.
"No TVs, no politicians.
"No kings or queens.
"No banks, no neighbors and no movies stars.
"Of course, God was still around.
But it's not like he'd ever made a difference."
Wow. Look, Hemmy.
Look, Hemmy. Look. Do you know who that is?
That's your papa.
Yeah, Harris Shaw.
This here's your trust fund, okay?
So, the book is selling.
Yes. Sales are up.
All because of this gimmick.
Well, I think what they're reading
has something to do with it.
I guess you found a way to mess with me words after all.
Check it out, Shaw.
I'm taking your words to the grave, man.
Your mother reared a failed twit.
Thanks.
I can't believe I'm saying this,
but we are sold out.
I'm so sorry.
We are completely sold out.
We're sold out.
Um, announcement!
We are completely sold out of books, unfortunately,
but please buy them online.
Just use the discount code "bullshite"
for the discount.
- Bullshite! - Right it is.
We are completely sold out.
What? Yes!
Yes, yes, yes!
Okay, well, you're not going to believe
what I'm about to tell you.
What? Good news or bad news?
I just got a call from that talent coordinator
from the "Tonight Show."
They want Harris to plug the book.
Oh, my God. Okay.
I know, I know.
When?
- Tomorrow. - Tomorrow?
As in, like, tomorrow?
Like, he's on the show tomorrow?
You'll be ready, right?
Okay.
You'll be ready. Great.
Good job. Great work.
Harris is going to be great.
Talk soon.
What the bloody hell are you doing?
Role play. Role play.
- What? - I'm going to be the host.
You're going to be you...
except nicer.
More likeable.
Come on.
I'm bloody comfortable. I'm not moving.
Ugh! Fine.
We'll do it here.
Again, I'm the host.
You're you, but censored.
Remember?
- Yeah. - Okay, action.
Thank you, thank you.
What a great audience.
Hey, did you hear about the hungry clock?
It went back for seconds.
Ha! Your father should have left you a bloody talk show.
Yeah. Okay.
Can you just please humor me?
- Okay, go on, then. - Mr. Shaw,
what is your book about?
Well, it's about 350 pages.
That's very funny, Mr. Shaw.
It's been, what, 40 years
since anyone has seen or heard from you?
What have you been up to all this time?
I've been drinking.
Cheers.
You can't drink on television, Harris.
This is going to happen tomorrow.
- Oh. - I'm going to ask you again.
Harris, it's been a really long time
since anyone's seen you.
What have you been up to all this time?
- Drinking. - Goddamn it.
But why publish now? Huh?
What was the inspiration for this new book?
Money.
Money?
Well, I didn't have a lot else to do anyway,
so, you know...
- Money and boredom. - Yeah.
If you're really bored you start writing.
So you might as well make some money.
See, people have switched the channel by now.
You wrote your new book because of money.
- Yeah, money. - You know,
- despite your mantra... - I need the money.
The very popular hashtag "bull..." bleep
is sweeping the nation.
But I read the book,
and I happen to think that...
there's an element of truth behind those words.
That's right.
A profound, deeper meaning that you're getting at.
Toughy-nosed git.
You can't call the host names.
I'm not talking to the host.
Go ahead, give me an example
of the truth in my book.
You want to know what I think?
Yeah.
Well, you said you knew about the truth.
Tell me the bloody truth.
Mary and the baby die during childbirth, right?
And Arthur says that he's going to bury himself alive
along with them.
But he doesn't do it.
He can't do it.
And your words imply that he's a coward
because of that.
But I don't...
I don't think that's true.
Because the wealthiest place on earth is not, as you write,
the graveyard.
It's being alive.
Even if you're left completely alone.
What you don't realize is that you have completely failed
to rob the last man on earth of hope.
Hope.
That's the truth that I found.
Oh, my God.
Did you write all this down?
Yeah, it all on the manuscript in the car.
Go and get the manuscript.
- Really? - Please.
Bloody hell.
- Hey. - Just so you know,
agents are calling.
They want to send us manuscripts.
What are you talking about?
The call I just got
from Drew Davis's agent was particularly interesting.
Rachel, do not play with me.
She wants to meet with you.
She's very intrigued by your commitment to Harris Shaw.
Oh, my God. Harris Shaw.
Fucking I knew it.
I knew it.
- How's he doing? - You know what?
I think he's starting to respect me.
I think he wants to see my edits.
You made edits?
I'm sure they're great.
But don't show it to him.
Well, he asked to see them.
Lucy, why rock the boat
when you're this close to shore?
Yeah, no. Yeah.
You know what I mean, right?
Yeah. Okay.
Have a good night.
Bye.
Unity of effect?
Unity of effect.
It's the effect of the book on the reader
is the purpose of the piece.
- Oh, yeah? Ah. - It's the unity of effect?
You mean that your Papa Stanbridge,
he donated a wing to your school
so that you could understand this bloody phrase.
Just forget about it. Just... You know what?
Just forget... Forget this ever happened, okay?
I don't fucking forget easily.
You want to know something?
You are trying to accomplish two things at once,
when you only need to accomplish one.
Yeah?
Can you remember that?
Sometimes a man
has to dare to be ambitious.
For instance,
I'm about to smoke...
and piss...
at the same time.
- Ugh. - Yes.
And I think you should stick to your young adult bullshite
that you keep churning out.
You like what I...
You like what I had to say earlier.
You asked to see my edits.
You said you wanted to see them.
Fucking fraud.
You fucking fraud.
I don't care what you think, okay?
I don't fucking care.
Yeah?
Well, it doesn't look like it from here.
You know how much I care
about you and your famous stupid book?
I've never even read "Atomic Autumn."
I've nev...
Okay, okay.
Wait. Hold on.
Heave away.
I've got you, all right?
You're done. You're done.
Okay, give me your hand.
Give me your hand.
You know, my dad told me
that the greatest day of his life
was when he published your book.
If he chose the book over you...
he chose wrong.
I always wanted to be just like him.
The great Joseph Stanbridge.
"You're the best, kiddo. You're the best."
That's what he used to say to me after I'd read to him.
So we beat on...
boats against the current,
borne back ceaselessly into the past.
The past.
Gatsby.
Oh, well, is that a fact?
It was Elizabeth's favorite book.
Hmm.
What was she like?
Huh?
You ever hear people talk about the one that got away?
Yeah.
Well, I was the one who married her.
Well, if she was so special,
why the hell would she marry you?
Well, even the worst of us get lucky.
Hey, I'll show you something.
This is a picture of us when...
we were at this book award.
Look the hell up. You see? See there?
- Mm-hmm. - That's a beer stein.
You know what it was full of?
Champagne.
It's so typical of Elizabeth.
I'm going to read your book, Harris.
Okay?
I'm going to read it.
Oh, yeah? I don't doubt it.
You look like you might need this.
Thank you.
What are you doing?
I thought if I made another pass,
we might reissue the book.
- Yeah. - Yeah?
Maybe.
And maybe we could work on the next one together.
Next one?
Yeah.
Well, after you go on the show tonight,
they're going to want more.
Let's just not wait another 40 years, okay?
Hello?
So, we have to make a quick stop along the way.
Some business.
I'm in no hurry.
Okay, good.
It won't take long.
Fuck.
I told you, go straight forward and sit like that.
There you go.
Got it.
Hi.
So sorry I'm late.
I'm just glad you finally made it in person.
Yeah. So has there been a change
in his medication or his routine?
Everything is the same.
He was fine until he saw some man on the news.
- Really? - He was as docile as could be.
And then this.
Holy shit.
Oh, bloody hell.
Lucy?
Sir, are you supposed to be out of your room?
Sod off.
Oh.
Lucy.
I'm so sorry. I...
Did you see him do this?
Lucy!
- What's going on? - Jesus.
This is like a fiendish incarnation of fucking hell!
Okay, Harris, can you please wait in the car?
I promise I'll explain everything later.
Please?
What?
Look.
Those are my fucking words.
What do you mean, your words?
This. Those are my words scribbled on that wall.
Who the fuck has done that? I've never been here.
There's someone here that wants to see you.
It's Harris Shaw.
He hasn't had a lucid moment in...
Dad?
Dad.
Dad, can you hear me?
Daddy, it's Lucy.
Harris?
Hey, what just happened in there.
You made out he was fucking dead.
I...
Harris, why did he look at you like that?
He knows he's a goddamn fraud.
What?
That's what happened in there.
Right, here we go. It's all bullshite, right?
That man found you, remember?
That man made you.
My wife made me.
What?
What are you saying?
Joseph pretended to be a great editor,
but he didn't touch a fucking word.
That's not true.
Elizabeth did it all.
Joseph, he's not an editor.
He's a bloody thief.
No.
That's not true.
Mm-hmm.
Your precious little daddy is a fucking liar!
Then why didn't you fucking tell me that?
If that's true, then why did you tell everyone?
Money.
We didn't have any money.
Elizabeth was pregnant.
She wanted this house more than anything.
And she said I'll get the credit on the next book.
It doesn't matter.
She said, "We'll get it next time."
But, of course,
there wasn't a next time.
I mean, there couldn't be a next time without her.
I'm nothing...
without her.
You think you're a fraud?
That's it.
Right?
Fuck you.
- And leave me alone. - Harris...
Get out of here.
- Come on, move it! - I'm walking over here.
Get the fuck out of the way.
You're going to get yourself killed, man.
- Watch it. - Get out of the way!
Sod off!
- Look, it's him. - Are you sure?
Yeah, look in the window.
OMG, you're Harris Shaw.
Fuck off, you wankers.
Harris Shaw just called us wankers.
That's so awesome!
What's it mean?
- Hold on. - Okay.
Fucking fraud.
If it was meant as a publicity stunt,
it seems to have worked.
The book continues to climb
the "New York Times" best seller list.
Shaw's no stranger in controversy,
with incidents of public indecencies...
And tonight, people everywhere
are burning the book in a show of solidarity.
Harris Shaw has certainly made his mark.
We're all hoping for a speedy recovery.
Uh, well, we are so thrilled
that you'd even consider us, Miss Davis.
I want to push boundaries. Get edgier, Lucy.
I mean, not "pee on my book" edgy,
but, no, the culture today,
the man's "we be provocative."
And given what you've done with Shaw,
I think you might be just what I need.
So, does that mean
that there's a provocative book on the way?
A marriage on the rocks. Literally.
A couple decides to test their compatibility
by attempting to summit Mount Everest together.
But a fight for their marriage becomes a fight for their lives.
Nicholas Sparks meets Jon Krakauer.
- You get me? - Yeah.
Are you ready for the title?
Yes.
"Foreverest."
"Foreverest." Wow.
I'm sorry, this is the hospital.
I'm just going to take this.
Hello? Yes.
So sorry about that.
An emergency.
I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying.
What are you saying?
Heart disease.
Lung cancer.
Cirrhosis of the liver.
Okay, so is there anything you can do?
I'm afraid there isn't.
I...
I don't understand what that means.
What...
What are we supposed to do then?
We help him die.
Come on out.
Come on, Hemmy. It's time to go.
Good boy.
This is crazy.
What about work?
Um, you know,
I can do my end remotely.
And what about Drew Davis?
Drew Davis can wait.
- What is that? - He needs this. It's his bird.
Hey, handsome. Looking for a ride?
So you're officially a best seller now.
I should have set myself on fire sooner.
You know, that would have saved me
a lot of time and money.
If it makes you feel any better,
some kids are actually burning the book after they read it.
You don't have to stick around, you know.
Maybe I want to stick around.
It won't be for long.
Welcome home.
What the hell did you do?
Not much.
Just tidied up a little bit.
I'm going to go get your stuff.
Okay.
Who put a collar on you?
Come here.
Come and be with me.
Oh!
Hey.
Come around.
Oh, that's it.
Give me a kiss.
Oh, I love you.
I love you so much.
Are you comfortable?
Do you want more blankets or pillows or...?
No, I'm comfortable thank you very much.
- Okay. - Yeah.
I read "Atomic Autumn."
And?
And...
I think it's...
really good.
And the ending, I just...
trying to decide between him and her freedom.
And then she leaves.
It's just...
God, it's so gutsy, it's...
How did you...?
Why did you do that?
I wanted to write a cautionary tale,
but my wife only believed in bold choices.
There were no lies in her fire.
And you have that same fire, don't you, love?
Hmm?
- I do? - Yeah.
I want to go out.
You want to go outside?
Yes.
Help me get dressed
and I'll tell you why.
This is where she used to come to read.
What happened to her?
Uh, we...
we lost the baby, and...
Elizabeth went a week later.
I should have done this years ago.
When I go...
spread me here.
It's where I belong.
Harris, do you want me to call anyone?
Like a friend, or family, or...?
No, the cat's got all the names.
It's time that you do...
- Good day, ma'am. - Hello.
Verne Olson. Eastern Mutual.
Five hundred thousand dollars? Really? How is that possible?
He took a line of credit out against the house in 2005.
Right.
This book went out of print.
Pardon me?
Well, he doesn't have this kind of money, so...
Harris Shaw?
I find that a little hard to believe.
He's not going to get a return on the book
for at least six months.
Well, surely you could get him an advance, or...?
No. That's not...
Yeah, that's not how it works.
Um, Mr. Olson,
look, this house is really special.
He's written his life's work here.
His wife died here.
His...
He wants to live out his life here.
I mean, what are you going to do, kick him out?
He's Harris-fucking-Shaw, okay?
This house should be deemed historical.
It should be turned into a museum or something.
I'm sorry, ma'am.
He pays back the $500,000,
or it'll hit the market in two weeks.
The buggers just used to call or send lettuce.
They tried to throw me out of here.
Yeah.
I'm a best-selling author.
Lucy...
they can't do that, right?
- No? - No.
- Okay. - No.
They can't do that.
Can they, Elizabeth?
Okay, Roxanol ever three to six hours, remember?
- Mm-hmm. - Okay.
- Depending on pain. - Yes.
Lucy, you're finally on your feet again.
You worked so hard.
Are you 100% positive?
I want to do this.
It's the right thing to do.
Okay. Whatever you need.
I really appreciate this. Thank you.
You got it.
Great. That's great.
So glad this worked out in the end.
I really do think it's for the best.
Don't you?
Yeah, you're doing the right thing here, Luce.
It's going to keep Joe's legacy alive.
You should feel good about it.
There you go.
Thank you.
So?
Well, you got what you wanted, so...
go.
Well, I mean, to be fair,
I didn't get everything I wanted, did I?
Oh, you didn't?
No.
Hmm.
Holy shit.
So sometimes, this thing jams.
- But... - Lucy.
Sometimes it works. You want to find out?
He's made you nuts, hasn't he?
I know.
No problem.
Got a meeting with Drew Davis in an hour.
Don't want to be late.
Tell her I said hi.
"He had come a long way to this blue lawn,"
"and his dream must have seemed so close"
"that he could hardly fail to grasp it."
"He did not know that it was already behind him,
"somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city,"
"where the dark fields of the republic rolled on"
"under the night."
"Gatsby believed in the green light,
"the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.
"It eluded us then, but that's no matter."
"Tomorrow we will run faster,"
"stretch out our arms farther..."
"And one fine morning..."
"So we beat on,
"boats against the current...
borne back ceaselessly into the past."
My dear Lucy.
You have vanquished my fears.
And for that,
I am forever grateful.
You know my voice.
And you have my trust.
Where I fall short,
make up the distance.
Impose your will as you see fit.
Be brief. Be brave.
Be truthful.
And maybe throw in some of that "unity of effect" bullshite.
I leave my words in capable hands.
Go ahead, mess with them all you want.
And know that your father meant what he said.
You truly are the best, kiddo.
All my love, Harris.
- Hey. - Hey.
I'm glad you called.
How's it going?
It's okay, I guess.
There's not a lot for me to do.
I've got to say, I really miss my old boss.
How are you holding up?
I found some work, actually.
Oh.
Yeah.
How would you like to edit some manuscripts with me?