Brick: Phew! Done. You know, there's an expression that writers hate writing but love having written, and, boy, do I get that now. Would you like to hear it?
Frankie: Of course...
Axl: Not.
Brick: [clears throat] "As his eyes fluttered open, the boy saw the sun had already gently nudged awake its captives, yesterday's mistakes vanished to wispy nothings, and the father he thought long dead was standing at his door." Well? What do you think?
Frankie: Wha... That's awesome, Brick.
Axl: You wrote that?
Frankie: Keep going.
Brick: What do you mean?
Axl: Keep reading. What happens next?
Brick: Oh, that's all I got.
Axl: Oh, my God. You write nonstop for days, and you only got one sentence? I can write like a whole 10-page paper in 5 minutes... 3 if you don't care how good it is.
Frankie: Axl, he's gonna do more. You're gonna do more, right, Brick?
Brick: What are you, my editor?

Brick: Well, I did it.
Frankie: You finished the book?
Brick: No, I've got a second sentence. "The floorboard creaked as he stepped in the room, sending up a cloud of dust sparkling in the sunlight." [folder thuds] Oh, who am I kidding? It's crap. This sentence is just a cheap imitation of the first one. Now I'm questioning my first sentence. I think I need to take a sabbatical, just step back from both sentences and clear my head. Perhaps backpack through Europe for a year.

Sue: So, h-how are you doing with the whole waiting thing? 'Cause I know that for some people, it's starting to get a little bit stressful.
Brad: Actually, I have some good news, but I wasn't gonna tell it if you're not in a place to hear it.
Sue: Oh, no, I'm in a place, a perfectly good place. Spill it.
Brad: Okay. I've decided, instead of going to college next year, I'm gonna do a year of service to my country.
Sue: You joined the army?
Brad: Oh, no. Although I always thought I'd look pretty cute in the costumes. I signed up for Americorps.
Sue: Oh, my God! That is so great! I love you. I love America. What could go better together than the two things I love?! What is Americorps?
Brad: It's kind of like the peace corps, but for America. Not sure what I'll be doing for them yet... Maybe teaching kids, maybe building houses. Hey, that could bring me and my dad closer. I'll ask him how a hammer works.

Frankie: Wow! This room is bigger than I thought. And what's that smell?
Brick: Oh, it's a new fragrance I'm working on. It's called Not Axl, by Brick. You know, Mom, so often people say they're going to do things in life and they never, ever do them.
Frankie: I'm calling the Curves lady back to make my appointment. I just couldn't find the number.
Brick: I'm not talking about you.
Frankie: Okay. But I am calling.
Brick: Mm-hmm. I've read so many novels in my life and I've always dreamed that someday I would write one, but until I cleared the Axl out of my headspace, that dream felt impossible... Until today. [typewriter dings] Today, I realized that...

Mike: [sighs] Frankie, I'm trying to make room for Aunt Edie's table. I can't believe how much junk you got in here. A food dehydrator? Really? Isn't our food already dry and tasteless enough?
Frankie: That's sentimental. I got it from my mom when I gave it to her and she didn't like it.
Mike: Well, we just can't keep piling stuff up.
Frankie: All right, we'll sell it on Craigslist.
Mike: We can't even take a picture on our phone. That's not gonna happen.

Brick: Whew. [sighing] Wow. Writing a book... what a process. At a certain point, I wasn't writing the story... [chuckles] It was writing me it just took me, and I was along for the ride.
Frankie: Well, get in the car. I got another ride you can go along for.

Frankie: We can patch the drywall. It's not our fault Aunt Edie's house has narrow hallways.
Brick: Thank you for letting me witness that. A writer can't stay inside when real life is so chock-full of drama. Like Axl thought that table could just slide right past that sconce, but then it didn't. What a great twist. And then mom expanded my vocabulary with her colorful collection of curse words. I'm glad I came.

Frankie: Hey. You're not really... mad, are you?
Mike: Do you not know me, Frankie? Did you think I would find any part of that enjoyable?
Frankie: Well, come on. You tease people all the time with your quick, little digs and your sarcastic comments, and the one time we tease you, you stab my table? I mean, I only had it for two days, Mike.
Mike: It's not a comfortable thing for me. Do you get that?
Frankie: Why are you embarrassed that there's a fun side to you? If you want to be embarrassed, be embarrassed that you've worn a flannel shirt every day for the last 30 years.

Frankie: [v.o.] Five more acceptances came in that week, and I jumped so much, there was really no reason for me to go to Curves. I mean, it's better to start on the first of the month, anyway.

Mike: How's it going, Brick?
Brick: Oh, good. I'm starting work on a new novel.
Frankie: What happened to your old one?
Brick: Well, I've got a great idea for a new sentence, but it doesn't go with the old sentences. But I'm feeling good. Soon I'll have two novels under my belt. Plus, I'm noodling around with a word that'll make a great short story.