Picking Up Where I Left Off

As I expected, McFarland & Co. rejected my Louis V. Eytinge manuscript as being too long with his short stories included as an addendum. I would very much like to include his stories as I think they give credence to the argument he was a talented writer. This being the case, I have decided to attempt to submit the manuscript to some other publishers, in the hopes of having the stories published with the biography. We’ll see how that works out. If not, McFarland & Co is still interested. I understand their hesitation. Though Eytinge, in his day, was known “the most well-known convict in America,” today he is largely forgotten. They would be taking a chance just publishing his biography, and are reluctant to spend the extra money to produce a book which might not recoup the cost to publish it.

Meanwhile, I am looking at other subjects or, rather, returning to unfinished projects. Awhile back, I started a manuscript about Mary Page Handy, daughter of Larcena Pennington Scott, and the wife of Dr. John Charles Handy. Handy was a brutal man, and kept Mary (who was sixteen when he married her) a virtual prisoner in their home. He treated her as a brood mare, and there were allegations he drugged her, chained her to a bed, and physically and verbally abused her. Finally, the couple divorced, and Mary lost her children in the custody fight.

During the divorce proceedings, Handy threatened to kill any attorney who took his wife’s case. Francis Heney was not cowed by Handy’s tactics of intimidation, and chose to represent Mary in court. On 24 September, 1891 Handy met Heney in the street, where he attacked him. Heney, who had taken Handy’s threats seriously, was carrying a revolver, and shot Handy through the abdomen, mortally wounding him. Heney was exonerated during the preliminary Examination, as he had acted in self-defense. Though her abuser was dead, Mary’s troubles were not over. Three months after Dr. Emory Goodfellow attempted to save her husband’s life, he performed a hysterectomy on Mary to rid her of cancer. However, the cancer returned about four months later. Longing to see her children before she died, she asked her former sister-in-law and mother-in-law to send them to Tucson, but they refused. After a long illness, Mary died of cervical cancer on January 28, 1893, and was buried in Evergreen Cemetery in Tucson.

It would seem I am drawn to tragic tales, but I have found it is necessary, as in the case of John Heath, Augustine Chacón, the women of the red light districts of Tucson, Edna Loftus,  Maggie Dean, Annie Kane, etc. for me to have some empathy for the person(s) I am writing about. Mary Page Handy is certainly worthy of empathy, and her story, albeit tragic, is worth telling.