Today’s post over at Hillbilly Highways is a review of We Sold Our Soul, Grady Hendrix’s horror novel that updates the old story of selling your soul to the devil to a modern, metal context. His book is creepy, disquieting, unsettling…everything you want out of a horror book.
Originally I was just going to run my review of Grady Hendrix’s We Sold Our Souls over at my SF blog. But selling your soul to the Devil has a rich history in hillbilly storytelling, from Robert Johnson to The Devil Went Down to Georgia to Some Dark Holler. Dolly Parton’s music is an important plot point. And it has lines like this:
Every song was the same song. These were songs for people who were scared to open their mailboxes, whose phone calls never brought good news. These were songs for people standing at the crossroads waiting for the bus. People who bounced between debt collectors and dollar stores, collection agencies and housing offices, family court and emergency rooms, waiting for a check that never came, waiting for a court date, waiting for a call back, waiting for a break, crushed beneath the wheel.
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