Just Words (Part 1)

[This is not a movie spoiler, it’s more of a movie review and some lessons learned as I watched “The Words.”  But just be aware of the content of this post if you have any intentions of seeing this movie.]

It was an opportunity for some alone time—a rare Friday night. The girls were at a sleepover, so it was just Matt and I with the house to ourselves. We thought about going out to dinner. Maybe even a movie. But the couch was beckoning, and a movie at home seemed much more appealing.  We were tired.

We scrolled through Netflix and Comcast’s On Demand.  Nothing caught our interest, until we came to the “W’s.”  “The Words.”  To be honest, it caught my attention more than Matt’s.  I didn’t know much about it, except that it followed the life of a writer.  So, for obvious reasons, I wanted to watch it.  And the fact that Bradley Cooper had the starring role.  I’ve liked him since his debut on Alias.

I knew the movie had not done well in the box office and quickly made its way to the rental section in late fall.  Now it’s just under the “W’s.”  Not even listed under Comcast’s Top Picks.

At the moment, it’s my top pick.

In a nutshell, the movie is about a writer named Rory Jansen (played by Cooper).  He writes, actually plagiarizes, what becomes a best selling novel.  Not his words, or creative work at all.

As I watched, I thought: how could you?  Do you sleep at night?  How do you not look in the mirror and see a liar looking back?

And then I put myself in his shoes.  The words he plagiarized were words that moved him deeply.  When he stumbled across the unknown author’s manuscript he couldn’t put it down.  He dreamed about the story at night.  It captured every piece of his mind during the day.  At one point he sat down in front of his computer and started copying the words of the manuscript onto his screen—just to feel the words through his fingers.

I’ve read books like that.  Authors that captivate me from the first word to the last.  Books that draw me in so I feel and think like the characters.  But if in the shoes of Rory—if everything lined up right and I knew I wouldn’t get caught: would I do it?  Would I steal what wasn’t mine?  Take credit and popularity and money for a lie?

No.

But I get it.  I can empathize where this writer, or non-writer, is coming from.

As the movie progressed, the character of Rory intrigued me.  When he signed his contract with the publisher for his copied work, I cried a little.  It’s a scene I dream of experiencing one day, but by honest means.

As much as I was moved by the story of Rory’s life, I felt this heart-wrenching sadness for him.  For what was to come.  It’s nearly impossible to live a lie like that forever.  And sure enough the consequences came.

But instead of thinking, well duh of course that would happen, I believe I took a big step in understanding grace a little better.  It’s always been easy for me to accept grace, but to give it is a whole other thing.  On some level, I understand how to extend grace a little better now. I think.

Did he make a huge mistake?  Yes.  Did he suffer the consequences?  Watch the movie.  Did he face regrets?  Lost relationships?  Guilt?  Shame?  And grief?  What do you think?  Does God love him?  Absolutely.

What’s troubling to me is that it’s easier for me to extend grace to a person in a situation like Rory because I can somewhat understand the sin.  I can empathize with being a struggling writer and grasp the means someone would go to in the publishing world.

Would I be so quick to extend grace if the sin were different?

To Be Continued. . .