Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Emergencies, Wednesdays, Jobs and On We Go

It is Wednesday. No one submitted any fiction or poetry for today, so there isn't any fiction or poetry to post today.

There was something of a family emergency on Monday and yesterday I had to take care of my hubby so there wasn't any writing done. Ready for the next part of "The Child's Voice"? It is coming...tomorrow!

Monday, March 27, 2006

An Update and Fiction!

Imagine my surprise when I go to post the next part of "The Child's Voice" and discover the Friday section was not there! It said it posted, but, obviously, did not. So, here is Friday's section. Enjoy.

The Child's Voice
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Ward gave him a genuine smile before casting his eyes back out over the landscape again. It was several long seconds before Ward answered with, “Mexicans.”

“Mexicans? In Leslie County?” Billy sputtered and nearly choked on his beer.

“They’re going to work in the pot field for me this summer. First I need to get them squared away at the shack with food and water.”

“You speak Spanish, Ward?” Billy’s smile was filled with good natured ribbing. Wardy chuckled softly.

“No, but Jemma does.”

Jemma Davis. Now there was a looker for you. She was younger than Wardy by a good fifteen years – all of about twenty-two Billy would say. She had a body that could stop the river from rolling and a face so beautiful she could stop traffic. How she had hooked up with Ward or why had been a big mystery. Neither she nor Ward were talking, but Billy suspected Ward may have had some information on her. Other than that, Billy couldn’t see how Ward had lucked up.

“Don’t be thinking things about Jemma, Bill,” Ward said, cutting into Billy’s thoughts.

“OK,” Bill said with a slight smile as he took another sip of his beer.

“You have a lot of vices, Bill. They’re going to get you in trouble one day. Somebody might come looking for you.”

Billy laughed a short, barking sound. His breath made clouds in the cool air.

“I’ve never hurt anybody, Ward. You provide me with girls...willing girls at that...and enough pot to keep me happy with a little extra money. I stay on the straight and narrow more or less.”

“You aren’t any more on the straight and narrow than I am!” They both laughed. The sound and discussion suddenly made Billy’s stomach feel uneasy. It could also be feeling that way, he decided, because he hadn’t had anything to eat in a while. “See you around, Bill,” Ward said, rising slowly, almost stiffly from the porch.

“See you, Ward.”

Billy watched Ward get back in his jeep, then back out and turn, headed back down the mountain. Something was wrong. Ward had never talked about vices before and him getting in trouble one day. What did Ward know, or suspect? Then again, maybe he was just over-thinking it all and letting his paranoia get the better of him. He did that sometimes. be continued

Thursday, March 23, 2006


The Child's Voice
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Ritchie came back to Billy’s side and paced him back to the porch where Billy sat down to wait on his guest’s formal arrival to his house.

Woodrow “Wardy” Morgan was a handsome man. He was just over six feet in height, and his shoulders were square and strong. The shock of black hair and blue eyes just added to his charm. Besides being handsome, he was a tough man. Billy knew of six men Wardy had killed and about a dozen others he had had a hand in, but Wardy was not connected with any of them. No matter what Wardy had done, or would do in the future, would cause him to do any time. Wardy Morgan was one of the most powerful underground men in the entire county.

“Bill,” Ward said with a jerk of his head in greeting.


Ward stayed by his jeep for a minute. Billy knew the other man’s hand was on the gun stationed inside the special holster there. “Expecting trouble?” he asked with a quick glance around what parts of the property he could see. Ward was also a very smart man.

“Nah - just got back from town and was getting my stuff out of the car.” Ward visibly relaxed and let his door close. Ritchie rumbled softly as Ward came to the porch and took a seat on the other side of the case.

“Sure is pretty up here, Bill.”


“I need to store something up here for a couple of days.”

“How long?”

Wardy whistled softly before he answered, “About a week. What will it cost me?”

“What have you got?”

“Two girls. Runaways. Sixteen and seventeen. They owe me.”

Billy nodded, trying to appear calm and nonchalant about it all. The truth was other parts of him were hungry, too, and he liked ‘em young.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll send the girls up tomorrow. Keep ‘em as long as you want. I’ll put my stuff in your barn tomorrow night. Don’t go snooping this time, Billy. It will be safer for both of us that way.”

“I don’t care what you put in my barn Wardy, you know that, as long as I know what it is.”

“Ammo for the fields. Some land mines. Some seed.”

“That’s the usual. What is so ‘unusual’ about what is going in there this time that I shouldn’t look at?” be continued

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Would you like to see your name HERE ?

It is Wednesday again. How about filling this space with some of your own creations? A story, a poem, something to grab the attention and start yourself a bi-line.

Email me at for writer's guidelines.

-- The Editor

Tuesday, March 21, 2006


The Child's Voice
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Billy hefted the grocery bags out of his trunk and slogged through the remnants of snow the sky had dumped on the mountains of eastern Kentucky night-before-last. Ritchie came bounding from the back bedroom all teeth and hackles. Luckily he saw who it was pretty quickly, but Billy let himself relax, just in case. As Ritchie’s attitude changed, the dog came forward, head down and tail wagging madly in apology.

“If I didn’t know better,” Billy said, “I’d say you were a worthless mutt if there ever was one.” Billy smiled and once the groceries were on the table, he gave Ritchie much attention. Ritchie seemed to almost melt in adoration, which warmed Billy’s heart greatly, if not his body. There was an entire case of beer waiting for him in the car, which caused him to sigh and straighten. Ritchie followed him to the car quickly.

Billy’s mouth began salivating at the sight of MILLER stamped all over the case. His throat constricted with dryness and thirst. Yeah, he had a problem. He had had a problem for the past twenty-five or thirty years and would probably die with a problem. So far, his problem hadn’t stopped him from doing good things with his life.

He was actually quite successful in his own way. He had enough connections to keep supplied with enough pot for himself and to sell. He worked at carpentry through the summer and kept enough secrets he was a little more secure than he normally would have been, and an added benefit of keeping secrets was he was never without female company if he wanted it.

Yes, he was a success in little Podunk, Kentucky. And, if people were smart, they would realize that.

Billy set the case of beer down on the porch and sat down beside it. The rolling hills of Kentucky spread out before him. The Pollards had owned the mountain for generations. Their records said they had had the mountain since before the Civil War. The county records backed them up. Now he owned it. His Ma, Katherine Pollard, had left it to Jimmy, Billy’s baby brother, in her will, but Jimmy had needed money and a safe place to hide for a while, so the mountain had been fair trade. It was as it should be – Jimmy was eleven years Billy’s junior and quite a surprise for Billy, previously the baby of the family and the mountain, Pollard’s Mountain, had always gone to the baby of the family. As far as Billy was concerned, it had finally reverted to the proper owner.

Billy opened the case and pulled out a nice cold beer. In the winter you could have a nice cold beer whenever you wanted one without even trying! All you had to do was leave it outside and it would chill faster than inside the fridge.

Ritchie bounced off down the long, snaky driveway. His voice was raised in loud warning. Billy meandered back to the car where he removed the .45 semi-automatic pistol from under the driver’s seat. He closed the trunk as he passed it.

Billy had just enough time to slip the gun under his jacket and down into the holster he had at the small of his back when a muddy jeep came to a loud, roaring stop just in front of Billy’s old red Camaro. Billy raised his beer in greeting to the driver who slowly stepped out of the jeep. There was a smile on the driver’s lips, but not in his eyes. be continued

Monday, March 20, 2006

Let's Catch Up, Shall We?

Firstly: I am beginning to believe my husband is right that every time I get out of the house I end up sick! Now, on with the catching up.

Saturday Hubby and I took a day off from being with friends and the house, me writing or researching, and just had a good day together. It was much, much fun, and muchly needed for the two of us.

Sunday we went to Church and after Church I went to Barnes and Noble's while Hubby did some social thing for the both of us. So, for the majority of the afternoon I was able to peruse books, finish a short story I am submitting somewhere by this Friday, begin a new one, and just relax back into myself. I really needed that, and Hubby just relaxed himself, though he felt more rushed than he wanted, despite me trying to help ease out the early evening we had.

Today I have been ill with a stomach something. Right now I am feeling much better.

Tomorrow is really going to be an interesting day because fiction is here and I just need to make sure I have the first part as close to exactly as I want. It will be published every day - except Wednesday - until it is finished. I am looking forward to all of this!

Friday, March 17, 2006

The world has suddenly gotten hectic, but I am handling it a little better than normal. Much to tell you about, including new fiction for next week! Am VERY excited!

More later!

Thursday, March 16, 2006

4930 words! Almost finished!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Why Not Be Published?

The Kentucky Mountain Girl News is looking for good short fiction to put in its pages on Wednesdays. Fiction of any type is being looked at, from romance to thriller and horror. Science fiction and fantasy highly prized.

Do you have a story that is 5000 words and needs to see the light of day? Maybe The News is for you.

The News offers a bi-line but does not buy any rights - the story is yours free and clear. All we ask is that you mention the piece previously appeared here.

If you have a story over 5000 words, send it any way - if it's good we'll serialize it!

Got poetry? Submit a poem anywhere from 10 to 40 lines in length.

Let's see what you have.

-The Editor

Tuesday, March 14, 2006


Yes, it is late, but just wanted to let everyone know the changes I spoke about on Friday are slowly coming forward.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Spring Drenching and New Beginnings

It feels good outside. It is in the 70*F range and intermittently storming and then sun shining. It has been doing this all day. It reminds me of me.

For a while I would be bouncy (but not manic) and then I would be gloomy. It would all happen on my insides, and I would try with desperation to keep it away from showing on my outside. I don't believe I ever truly succeeded in keeping from showing someone part of what was happening on the inside. Luckily, things are better now. I have a better grasp on what I need to do than before, and this is helping, especially in the writing world.

There, in the writing world, I have a novel to write, one to revise, and a short story to finish. This means the summer is full. The rain today sort of makes me feel as if things are finally getting washed clean and I have a new beginning for a lot of things.

Isn't that the way it usually is - we constantly have new beginnings? As long as we don't waste them, they help us to keep everything on track in our lives.

Friday, March 10, 2006

I admit - I have been in a very strange place lately, both emotionally and especially creatively. I was reading over Wil Wheaton's blog today and he said something that really hit home. He said:

My blog, which is a reflection of my life, has become average because I've allowed it to happen. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but at least I'm aware of it, and I can begin the long and painful process of ripping myself out of my average rut, and moving to where I want to be.

I've been reading a lot of Seth Godin's blog, and his book The Purple Cow. In Purple Cow, Seth says that the first few cows you see are really interesting, but they eventually blur together and you forget about them. Then you see a purple cow, and it's extraordinary, and you take notice, and you can't believe you were ever impressed by a regular old cow. He uses it as a metaphor for marketers, but it applies to anyone who produces some sort of media or entertainment; it certainly applies to me.

This has been quite true of me lately as well. No, I'm not an actor or a world famous writer or poet (yet) but I do take what I do very seriously (and thankfully it does keep me a little more humble than I would otherwise be, let me tell ya). The entire gist of it is - I feel as if I have let The News, and you readers down.

It has been quite a number of weeks since fiction and poetry and genuine writing have appeared here. It makes me ashamed. Why? Because the one thing I planned for this place was to be honest and real about myself and what I do. I haven't done that in a while, or I've done worse: make plans and promises here and never follow through.

So, first and foremost, I apologize to you and to The News. I believe there is great promise with what happens here and how it could jump into something marvelous and major. As sometimes happens with me, when I am on the verge of something wonderful it seems I subconsciously sabotage it. (It is a wonder I actually got married!) I let all of the things I have not accomplished get into the forefront of my brain instead of letting the accomplishments and the drive I have help propel everything forward, where it is supposed to be.

Now, secondly (it sort of goes in a list I suppose), I am returning to myself, if you will, and to the original purpose of The News: Writing and being honest with my goals, as well as showcasing what I can do and have done.

There, it sounds quite simple doesn't it. The thing is - I'm quite scared. I wish I could put my finger on what makes me so scared, because then, maybe, I could look it full in the face and get it away from me forever. OK, if not forever then for now.

So, poetry will arrive as it arrives and stories will arrive, and other people will submit various things. Life will go on, hopefully a little more level and on-key than it has been. As I am fond of saying, "Life gets in the way of the living." This time I'm stopping the train well in time before the end of the tracks vanish over the massive drop into the canyon.

Thursday, March 09, 2006


There is a new serial story plotting its way through this usually fertile brain. What day would be a good day to post it on?

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

This Space For Lease

How can I lease this space? It is quite simple - The News is looking for really good stories and poems to put in this space on Wednesdays. Do you write? Maybe a story or poem of yours could fit here nicely. Email me at and I'll make sure and send you complete writer's guidelines.

Good luck!

Tuesday, March 07, 2006


By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Does peace exist?
Can it really exist
as long as their are
men and women,
on this planet?
Sometimes I really wonder.
Sometimes I just don't care.
That not caring frightens me.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Psychic Warrior, A Book Review

Bob Mayer, a.k.a. Robert Doherty, has the sort of bio you would expect someone like Hemingway to possess, someone from the past when people went out and did extraordinary things with their lives. Mayer, very much a person of the current time, has done the exact same thing and it makes me shake my head in joy and perplexity. Why am I perplexed? Because he has the sort of bio I wasn't expecting and he looks so quiet and calm a person.

Psychic Warrior is one of those books I picked up to read because the second book caught my attention and I thought it would be a good idea to read Book I before Book II. I admit, it took me a while to get into this book, but once I did - about Chapter 3, I think - I was ready for the story. There were twists and turns and the people portrayed were very real and reacted like real people. It was a wonderful story.

I have read several of the Area 51 novels and liked Doherty's (Mayer's) style of writing. It is descriptive without being overly so, and the people he writes about are people you would actually expect to meet in these given situations, especially in the military sector.

Don't jump to the conclusion this novel is just a "military science fiction" novel. It opens up areas of thought concerning remote viewing and what the government knows that we don't know without actually getting into the conspiracy theory that has actually been beaten to death in many science fiction novels.

One of the most interesting scenes in the book was when Jimmy Dalton met his wife on the virtual plane. Her body was suffering from a stroke as well as ALS, which robes the body of movement. When he first saw her ethereal body she looked like she did when he first met her, then aged to what he knew now. "I can't come back this time, Jimmy" she says. In quiet words she asks if she can just 'go on' and Jimmy agrees. He stays there in the virtual plane and watches as her soul vanishes and the alarms go off and the doctors preparing to bring her back. It is one of the most touching and yet respectful and loving things I have ever read about death and the dying of someone important to the main character's life. It was a death scene that I found myself not crying over, yet feeling the loss and in a most honored way.

Psychic Warrior is the precursor to Psychic Warrior: Project Aura which is a book I will pick up as soon as I am at Barnes and Noble's again.

Psychic Warrior is a good read without being an overly difficult read. There are plot twists, good guys, bad guys and a bad guy you can't help but feel a little sorry for. I am very curious to see what happens next, because Feteror is one bad guy I don't think is going away. Why? Because he is nothing more than a head, or brain, and a spinal column floating in liquid and connected directly to a computer. No wonder his remote viewing is so darn good! That's all he has! That is his world. Yes, I suspect Feteror will be reappearing.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

Saturday, March 04, 2006


Whitling is one of the most interesting pass times I have ever seen. Old men used to sit in front of the court house back home on this old plank bench, and they would whittle. For those of you who don't know what whittling truly is, quite simply, it is taking your pocket knife and a stick and shaving little pieces off of it, or make a flute, or even carve a small animal while you are discussing with your friends the past, the future, as well as solving the world's problem. Most interesting it is.

Well, I am going to whittle my book of poetry down to 60 poems so I can submit it some where. It makes me feel odd. Every poem in that collection means something to me - of course it does! I wrote the thing! Still, how am I going to choose from that collection!?!

Should it just be my favorites? Should it be ones that are directly pertaining to what happened and thus let it explain itself that way? Am I going to have to order them differently?

It really is a lot to think about.

Friday, March 03, 2006

N.J. Nurse Gets Multiple Life Terms

Having been present at my Mom's passing and having to rely on nurses to take care of her and my Dad at the VA hospital he was in. I have to admit this makes me angry. It makes me angry to the core of my being that someone who was supposed to help save lives and instead takes them.

I myself am in and out of hospitals and I have to rely upon trust that what the nurse is giving me in her syringe is exactly what the doctor ordered to help me feel better. How can something get so twisted in the care giver's mind that killing is better than saving?

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Deciding Things While Spring Gets Sprung

It is warm outside. I'd say it is about 60*F. The wind is blowing at times, but it doesn't really diminish the glorious warmth outside. It feels goooooood. I am ready for Spring and Summer. I am tired of cold gray days, although I must admit this past winter wasn't all that gray, but it sure was cold (but not as cold as normal, which I am most thankful for).

With all of the changes happening outside, it just seems like something should change on the inside, so I am already working on that. (If I get brave I will post a before and after picture.) So, why not let things carry over here?

Wednesdays are supposed to be for outside fiction. Fiction I have not written. Or poetry. I like poetry, too. So, until people start submitting good things, I will post a notice that says The News accepts submissions. That's all that's going to be there, unless, of course I find another piece of poetry I would like to share with the world.

The rest of the time? Well, it's going to be taken up with movie reviews, book reviews, and fiction of my own, with the occasional rambling pieces thrown in for good measure.

No big changes really, just a more decisive way of looking at what I want to do here, and, of course, keep you all happy.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

2009 Lost Memories, A Review

I had to see this movie twice before I could actually figure out how to review it. Why? Well, the movie could really be "2009 lost memories" or it could be "2009, lost memories."

It is a Korean flick with a good amount of action and an underlying story of a Korean special forces cop and his Japanese partner. In this futuristic adventure, Germany received the nuclear bomb and Korea is ruled by the Japanese.

Japan is a world power, even rivaling the United States in its strength and intelligence agencies.

At one point the Japanese partner says, "I don't think of you as Korean."

It appears the Japanese found a time traveling stone and went back into history, to 1909 and stopped an assassination. This changed history into what 2009 currently was. Now the Koreans, who know the truth because of someone who was pulled into the new time line and explained what happened. Thus an underground movement was born to reclaim the real history of Korea and its people.

The Japanese do not want the real time line, they prefer the one they currently have and Korea and Japan going at it head it head is exemplified in the two partners who are now thrown onto different sides of the board.

Sometimes the symbolism was so intense it was quite easy to get lost in it and not find a link in the movie's action itself. Was this really a story about perceived history and the history the victors write, or is the real story about living life, the life you are given, without regret? It is a hard call.

See it and tell me what you think of it.

I give it *** out of 5 stars.