Author: MacEwan

The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

Zacc Dukowitz “Ernesto and the Mule”

Southern Legitimacy Statement* I have shot containers of propane with my grandfather's 12 gauge and yodeled with delight at the plume of flame that erupted into the night like a spume of blood from the skull of a Foreigner. I have walked often and barefeeted, and never been a stranger to hardship. I have thought of Andrew Jackson while alone in the darkness of my dead lover's room, and been comforted. *featured on the Dead Mule's Facebook page
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

Brigette Steel:

SLS: A native of the Pacific Northwest, I lived in north Florida for eighteen months as a teenager. I was introduced to cornbread dressing, boiled peanuts, and beaches you can actually swim in.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Poetry

Margo Roby Poems

Southern Legitimacy Statement: 1] My ancestors helped settle Charleston, South Carolina. The cemeteries are filled with them. 2] Several of them are named Zorababel. That's a first name. If you were male, why then, it became Zorobabel. 3] During the Civil War my family fought for the South [one half of us -- the other half are damned Yankees]. 4] My husband's wedding present to me was a pistol. Forty years later, I still have it and we are still married. 5] My husband and I appear to share a few ancestors. I am much more excited about this than he. 6] We live on Peachtree Road, Atlanta, Georgia. Do I even need the first five?
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Poetry

Thom Brucie: Three Poems

Southern Legitimacy Statement: I was once instructed on the proper division of north from south: All citizens who live below Highway #10 are Southerners; all citizens who live above Highway #10 are Yankees; all citizens who live above the Mason-Dixon line are damn Yankees. I once lived in New York.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
EssaysFiction

Always Clap for the Band by Clint Tyra

Southern Legitimacy Statement: I was born in Alabama, grew up in Georgia, went to school in Mississippi, lived in Nashville and do my fishing in South Carolina. I've spent a lot of time on the grounds Faulkner's Rowan Oak and on the highway around Larry Browns farm. I currently live a street over from Carson McCullers' house. I don't know how much more legitimate I can be than that.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Poetry

Seven Prodigious Poems by R. Flowers Rivera

R. Flowers Rivera is native of Mississippi, she completed a Ph.D. at Binghamton University and an M.A. at Hollins University. Her short story, “The Iron Bars,” won the 1999 Peregrine Prize, and she has been a finalist for the May Swenson Award, the Journal Intro Award, the Naomi Long Madgett, the Gary Snyder Memorial Award, the Paumanok Award, as well as garnering nominations for Pushcarts. Her poetry collection Troubling Accents is forthcoming from Xavier Review Press. View more of her work by visiting http://www.promethea.com
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

Molly Felder “Custody” flash fiction

Southern Legitimacy Statement: The family’s all tore up: PawPaw and Mimi because Pepe was such a teeniny dog and just flattened under the wheel of that teenager’s Camaro—never stood a chance!—and me because I’m on the outs with Aunt Jean. I was only joking about her potato salad. “Aunt Jean and her potato salad” was truly all I said. I may have also laughed. And now she won’t say boo to me, as if I meant that she went around offering it to people, whether they wanted it or not! So you can see that if you accept my story, it will be cause for celebration. PawPaw and Mimi would smile again, and Aunt Jean would congratulate me, although I’ll have to take her out for some broasted chicken, Texas toast, and hand-packed ice cream first.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

Susan Miller “Last Job” flash fiction

Southern Legitimacy Statement: Born many years ago in the 'Who'sthare' state, this writer seeks to expand and share stories with anyone who enjoys a midwestern flavor. I enjoy trying flash, shorts, and vignettes, or (postcard stories) if you will. The name 'Dead Mule' grabbed my attention as I've been called a j.a. many times over the span of 50 some years. I like walking in the nettles and then wading in the crik.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

April Winters “Radio Waves”

Southern Legitimacy Statement: Grammy used to make the best rhubarb pie. Her meals were the type where every inch of the long table was covered with food: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn-on-the-cob, and vegetables from her garden, and dessert of rhubarb pie. Yum! She expressed her love for her family by making sure we all had full – I’m talking really full – tummies. She had a quick wit and what she called a “hillbilly” accent. She may not have been ‘book’ smart, but she sure was love smart.
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Fiction

Ted Harrison “Brotherly Love”

Southern Legitimacy Statement: When you are born of Scot-Irish and Welsh stock in Piedmont North Carolina you start with a perceived southern legitimacy, but perhaps when you grow older you want to prove it -- One of my grandfathers was a storekeeper and the other a farmer. The storekeeper died sometime before I started school. The grandfather who was a farmer gives me a sense of southern legitimacy—at least in my mind. He farmed with his son, my uncle Richard. Their homes were about a hundred yards apart, separated by a field that by turns yielded cotton, or corn or wheat. In the mid-1950s, Uncle Richard decided it was time to install indoor plumbing in his home. Running water in the kitchen, a bathroom, the works. He approached my grandfather with the idea that while the work was being done Poppa’s pump could be electrified, pipes run into the house for the kitchen and a bathroom, too. I don’t know how long the discussions took, but finally Poppa agreed. Agreed, to a point. When the work finished at my uncles home work began at Poppa’s. First the pump was electrified. No more pumping the handle up and down to fill a bucket to take into the house for use. Yes, when the modern work finished you could turn on a spigot, then fill your bucket of water courtesy an electric pump—then you could carry your bucket into the house for use. Maybe not southern legitimacy for some, but it works* for me. *Works for the Dead Mule, too.