Seven Stories from the South

The South, she’s a lover. Once you get close, you can’t get that warmhoneysmell off you. Same goes for her literature. Her language, like music, has an indelible cadence, a twang that goes something like this: “There’s a dead armadillo on the painted yellow highway.” Claudia Zuluaga dares us to try to wash that away. Bicycles on dirt roads for Holly Wilson. Wild coyotes in manicured backyards for Rick Bass and Jill McCorkle. For Roy Blount Jr., “eating a raw oyster . . . like exchanging a soul kiss with the sea.” Each of these seven writers paints a unique portrait of the South with all the grit and elegance to leave us longing for her.