Thomas Scott McKenzie: Barges
An exceptional story by one of our favorite writers... so happy to have finally found this again.
Bob Thomas: Duel In the Sun
Another piece of very short fiction from yesteryear, the 1998? 1999? archives. From the notes: "Bob Thomas is the owner of Kristi's Gallery in Swansboro, N.C. After 13 years as an Executive Recruiter he decided to pursue a less stressful lifestyle and moved to the North Carolina Coast. His Gallery looks out over the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway and is an outlet for the work of over 215 Artists and Craftspeople from across the United States. Since his move to the coast he has discovered a love for writing and publishes his own in house monthly newsletter. His readers have realized that his style is not "hindered" by the rules of good grammar and that he writes mainly for his own entertainment!
Tim Peeler: The Great Race
Many of our Mule readers know Tim Peeler the poet, but did you know that Tim was one of the first fiction writers ever published on the Mule? Yup.
Tammy Wilson: Running on Empty
from the 2000 archives. Read it again for the first time.
Thomas Scott McKenzie: Spook In the Night
Another great tale straight from the 2000 archives.
Lynn Veach Sadler: Bell, Pol, and “Miss Bird”
Fresh from 2000 archival goodness. Published again as we peruse our backfiles... enjoy.
Marsha Nicholson: Snapshots *originally published 2000
Marsha Nicholson, a middle manager by day, freelance writer by night, is most consistently occupied with exploring where she fits into her Appalachian heritage, and vice versa.
Don Cooper: Amos
First published in 2000, we found this in the Mule archives and we'd like to put it up -- front and center -- once again.
Tim Bullard : The Little Red Man
Tim is the oldest of Mule Friends. He is one of my very first true online friends. His talent as a writer speaks for itself. His southern legitimacy transcends a statement. Welcome back to the Mule, Tim.
April Winters : Mommy’s In a Better Place
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, all topped off with 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.
William Wurm : Junior Hoarder
SLS...I have only become more Southern since I last submitted anything. The story series is inspired by West Alabama (going there soon to prepare for deer season) and is written in Ocean Springs, MS.
Anthony Marshall : What Remained
SLS: I live in the REAL south, South Carolina, and, while that statement alone should legitimize my southerosity, please indulge me. I own a wardrobe sprinkled with camouflage shirts, pants, hats even though i do not hunt. When I was young, my parents told me total bullshit stories of how my grandmother, sometimes great grandmother depending on how much PBR she had drunk, (Always a female ancestor), was a Cherokee. As I grew older and realized how many of my fellow southerners had this ridiculous mythological Cherokee ancestor I quickly ditched the story. As I type this, I am wiping the slime off of my boiled peanuts on my camouflage pants and airbrushed wolf-howling-at-the-moon-while-sitting-next-to-an-indian t-shirt that I bought from the flea market.
Shelia Lamb “Lodestone”
Southern Legitimacy Statement
I grew up in Manassas, Virginia, near the battlefield. (Just 'the battlefield'). I graduated from Stonewall Jackson High School. A one-armed, long-bearded Confederate in uniform was our mascot who shot cannon blanks when touchdowns were scored at football games. It wasn't until my junior year that I understood the South had lost the war. Also, I like okra.