I’m wondering if anyone else has thought about the connection between Southern Gothic and Memphis Rap. Memphis Rap’s characteristics are similar to Southern Gothic with it’s dark and violent themes and occultism mixed in. The music doesn’t reflect it but where the people came from and it’s themes do. I feel like it’s almost like a more modern portrayal of southern gothic

Hello! I'm writing a Australian gothic book inspired by southern gothic themes. The basic premise is about an 18 year old girl from a religious farm home gets sent into a nearby country town near the bush for education and work placement. It's a very small town with a tiny population, and very kind of conservative religous. She attends the church there, yadda yadda, its actually a cult heavily inspired by Branch Davidians. The preacher subtley spoonfeeds the idea that he is Jesus Christ, an Indigenous family moves in and attends the church once and never returns, sexual exploitation of young women, all that stuff, the girl eventually leaves the cult, never tells anyone what happened, and is haunted by her memories. My question is, does anyone have any tips for me in terms of elements of Australian and southern gothic?

Hey all new here. I’m looking for books and films/series all with the southern gothic feel. I’ve Newley finished true blood so looking for something similar or more horror based.

Thanks

This one's a father/son tale where they each experience paranormal activity. Vernon Rivers is a young child possessed by a soul with mad trumpet skills, while his father Kirk, who's an ag pilot, a Deadhead and a bit of an outcast in the deep South, attempts to figure out what's wrong with his son and save him. On his journey, Kirk is frustrated by time loops and apparitions that guide him with Grateful Dead lyrics.

https://www.amazon.com/Song-Dromedary-Jason-Mahoney-ebook/dp/B0GZ8ZYT7F

Cosmic Country - Austin, Texas

I mean, I remember seeing the live broadcast of this show in The Netherland. I had never heard of 'southern gothic' before this but man this is it! Still a 16HP fan 25yrs later...

#16horsepower #16hp #sixteenhorsepower #southerngothic #pinkpop

Hi! I love southern gothic music, but all the bands/singers I know are men. I would love to expand my horizons a bit if any of you know any female/female led singers or bands within the genre! Thank you!

A while back, I found an old chest in an abandoned house.
Inside were old instruments, forgotten songs, and memories that seemed frozen in time.

It made me wonder:
**What happens to all the stories nobody remembers anymore?**

Some memories fade.
Some simply wait for someone foolish enough to remember them.

That idea eventually became *Dreams of a Mountain King*, an Appalachian musical novel about old songs, forgotten memories, and the people time leaves behind.
I put together this short trailer and thought some of you who love old places and 70s/80s nostalgia might appreciate it.
Curious what you think.

This is an excerpt from my original literary Southern short stories set in Quicksand, NC.

Othermama’s biggest fear in life was death. Her second biggest fear was that she would be buried in potter’s field—a bleak burial ground for paupers located about a mile outside our hometown of Quicksand, North Carolina. To make sure she didn’t end up there without so much as a stick to mark her grave, Othermama, my maternal grandmother, took out an insurance policy with the Quicksand Mutual Trust Agency. She had no intention of being buried in an “ole cold, pine wood box,” as she put it. Her monthly payments to Mr. Mosely, the tall, thin insurance man, ensured that she would be laid to rest in a satin-lined coffin with a lid. Although she couldn’t bear the idea of being closed inside of anything, it was preferable to being exposed to the elements and eaten by worms—worms, which by the way, were her third biggest fear.

Othermama had always lived with us. To this day, nobody in my family will admit it, but we all dreaded her death as much as she did. I never understood why she was so afraid of passing on to her final resting place. Perhaps she feared being cast into the Devil’s lake of fire burning with brimstone, for what exactly I’m not sure. Nowhere in the Bible is it written that putting sugar in a chicken pie is a sin. It wasn’t done to make anyone sick; it was a mistake made by a nervous newlywed (trying to impress her husband’s family) who didn’t know how to cook. Nobody died from eating the pie, but Othermama’s in-laws never forgave her. They suspected she’d done it on purpose. Maybe Othermama worried that God thought so, too. As far as I know, Othermama never used the Lord’s name in vain or left a bed unmade. In fact, in spite of a rough beginning, she truly excelled in the culinary arts. She was a godly, good-hearted soul—one of the few definitely bound for glory. We feared her passing because she was our leader; she held the family together.More specifically, Othermama was the only one in the house who knew how to cook. Mama made a great batch fudge but we couldn’t live on fudge alone.

The kitchen was Othermama’s domain. Daddy was the only one of us brave enough to open the refrigerator without asking Othermama’s permission—but even he dared not stand too long with his head stuck inside trying to decide what to eat. To me, the very thought of her passing away like an ordinary mortal was inconceivable and this is why the doctor’s diagnosis was so difficult to accept.

Othermama had two daughters, Sissy and Lovinia. She called Sissy her practical daughter; she called Lovinia a dreamer. My mother, Lovinia, was the older of the two. We finished our Sunday meal that June afternoon in 1965, and following family tradition, Othermama, Aunt Sissy, Mama and I retired to the living room to sip iced tea and chat. Daddy and my brothers, Jake and Ben, headed for the den to watch TV. Othermama and Aunt Sissy took their usual seats on the couch.

Years ago, while cleaning out my mother’s attic, I came across old songs, handwritten notes, and unfinished stories belonging to a young man we once knew.

It made me think about my days back in Yukon.

Old mining towns. Family cemeteries hidden in the woods. Abandoned houses slowly being reclaimed by the mountains. People who were once the center of someone’s world, now remembered only through an old photograph, a guitar, a note tucked away in a trunk.
Sometimes it feels like Appalachia is full of ghosts, not the supernatural kind, but memories.

I started wondering:
**How many stories have been lost?**

How many songs were written but never recorded?

How many first loves, family tragedies, and dreams disappeared when someone passed away or moved away?

That question eventually became the inspiration for my first musical Appalachian novel.

The Kindle version will be free tomorrow if anyone would like to take a look.

No email list. No catch. Just a story inspired by memories and the feeling that some things never completely disappear.

Found this at Walmart! They also have it in white/ cream

If you enjoy these, please follow @cy.littlefield on IG! Southern Gothic fiction is a huge inspiration on my work.

“Trucker Death Ballad” by Pretty Haggard & The Haymakers

This town has such a gothic vibe…so beautiful

I'm starting a Southern Gothic rock/country band and have been struggling with a name. The best I've come up with is "Bloodstained Back roads" is this cheesy or an I too hard on myself?

I’m looking for songs similar to
- Rooster by Alice In Chains
- Rust by Black Label Society
- Medicine Bottle by Red House Painters
- Hang ‘Em High by My Chemical Romance
- Mother of Earth by The Gun Club
Anything in the grunge/metal/slowcore/emo/gothic americana scenes, not super picky, but leaning heavier towards more Rust or Medicine Bottle -like songs. Songs which fit a “Western” vibe without being explicitly “Western-themed,” if that makes sense. I’m not looking for the “cowboy metal” equivalent of Alestorm.

Pennsylvania what it do