S. K. Epperson

He once sang a song to me called Brother Lowdown, and when I heard the lyrics I asked him to sing it to me again.  “Now all you card players, crap shooters, bootleggers too, listen to me sinners and I’ll tell you what to do.  If you disobey me then you better be afraid, cause you know I totes a razor and I wields a wicked blade.”   My first published novel was born in the song my father sang to me that day.   He died not long after it was published, but he did get to hear it was nominated for Best First Novel by the HWA.  I like to think it made up for him being mad that I didn’t finish all those Zane Grey books he bought for me when I was younger.   My best memories of my father are those songs he sang and the poetry he could recite.  He was incredibly open minded for being a farm boy from Missouri.  He loved to sit for hours and look at the stars, and was extremely excited the first time he read Eric Von Daniken‘s Chariots of the Gods.  He could converse knowledgeably on just about any subject and could fix nearly anything.  For many years he lived alone, like me, but he always had books on his bedside table (and kept tires in his third bedroom.)  Like mine, his refrigerator could be pretty empty but for a six-pack of beer.  I’m not sure many people saw the cultured artistic soul I did when I looked at him.  Of course he never let most people see that side of him.  It wasn’t manly, and he was raised to be a hard-fisted hard-drinking man.   If anyone had told me that at my age I would still miss my father as much as I do, I would have scoffed.  But I miss him and all he gave to me.  I miss his arms and his songs and the extra special sense of closeness we shared the day we sat in the rain at a cancelled softball game and shared a pint of Peach Schnapps.  Yeah, I couldn’t believe he had it either,  but that was my dad, unpredictable in the best ways.

~ by S.K. Epperson on June 30, 2011.

Posted in writers, writing
Tags: Chariots of the Gods, Fathers Day, inspiration, Zane Grey