This is how I don’t write about Percival Everett

By Matthew Young, RealWV

I feel like I’ve been trying to write this forever. In reality, it’s been like five weeks. (Well, maybe six, but who’s counting?)

In my defense, ask yourself this question – how do you write about a writer whose talents and accomplishments far surpass anything you could ever hope to achieve? 

So after five (six) weeks of banging my head against the wall, I’ve finally got the answer to that question… 

You don’t. 

In case you haven’t figured it out by the headline or the photos, the writer I’m referring to is Percival Everett. You probably saw his face all over the news last week after winning the National Book Award for his most recent novel, James. Or you heard his name on Access Hollywood last year when the movie adaptation of his 2001 novel, Erasure (which was re-titled “American Fiction” for the film), won an Academy Award. 

Well, Percival Everett was in our holler last month to deliver the McCreight Lecture in the Humanities, and I got to meet him. And by “meet,” I mean I smiled like a goof while he signed my copy of “Sonnets For A Missing Key,” and looked even more like a goof when my son asked him to autograph his cookie. 

Yes, you read that right. No, it isn’t code for anything. My boy asked one of the most celebrated authors of our time to autograph a cookie – and damn if he didn’t do it. 

But again, I’m not writing about Percival Everett. As my grandfather would say, for me to write about that man would be “fighting above my weight.” I’m out of my depth. But I will say this: while his writing talent far surpasses mine, I think we may just be on even footing when it comes to love of the craft. 

Writing was my first true love, and remains my staunchest companion. Through the ups and downs and lefts and rights of my life, it has never left my side. When I’ve had nothing, I’ve had my writing. And because of that, I guess I’ve never truly been alone in this world. 

Sharing my love of writing with my son is special to me – even if it isn’t special to him just yet. But I think one day he’ll maybe look back fondly on the night we met Percival Everett, and he’ll brag to his friends about the cookie. 

Everett spoke for well over an hour that night, and he began his lecture with one of my favorite stories. You may have heard it – it’s called The Parable of the Drowning Man.

A man of faith is trapped in his house during a flood. He begins praying to God to be rescued. The man’s neighbor yells for him to get out of the house, and offers him a ride in his truck to safety. The man yells back, “I am a man of faith, I pray. God will save me!”

The man continues to pray as the water rises into his house. Eventually, the man is forced to take refuge on his roof. A boat comes by with several people heading to safety. They tell the man to climb aboard their boat and they will take him along. The man tells them, “I am a man of faith, I pray. God will save me!”

The man prays and prays, firmly believing that God will save him from the rising water. After a long while, a helicopter lowers down above the man. Over the loudspeaker, the pilot tells the man to grab hold of the ladder he is about to drop down, and he’ll fly him to safety. But the man, unrelenting, yells back, “I am a man of faith, I pray. God will save me!”

The water continued to rise, and the man drowned. 

As the man arrived in Heaven, standing before God he asked, “I was a man of faith. I believed in you. I prayed to you. Why did you not save me?”

In response, God asked the man, “I sent you a truck, a boat, and a helicopter. What the hell are you doing here?”

I’m not particularly religious by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve always liked that story. It hits close to home for me, and if I had to guess, I’d say it also hits pretty close to home for the two or three people who read what I write. 

So anyway, that’s me not writing about Percival Everett.