by Anna Scotti
My roots are in the South. I was born and reared in Atlanta, and my novels—Dead Beckoning, The Devil You Knew, You Will Know Me by My Deeds, and Muzzle the Black Dog—have primarily taken place in Georgia and surrounding states.
However, my heart is in central California. For several years, I had a second home in Monterey. One of my deepest regrets is letting go of our home there. Whenever I return to the area, I feel at home. At peace. That will never change.
I write historical fiction with a wicked twist. There’s a gothic element to my writing, and the South has always provided fertile ground for the genre— racial injustice, family legacies, religious hypocrisy, and the psychological scars of history. Weaving in a crime story sharpens the stakes and transforms atmosphere into urgency.
What is it that makes the South so ripe for my writing? Several things come to mind, including deep cultural roots and rot, antebellum decay and the legacy of the Civil War, generational trauma, and religious fervor. Oppressive heat, a legacy of shame, and unspoken sins. Justice is slow if it comes at all, and social hierarchy often shields the powerful. These elements give the region a haunted quality—beautiful on the surface, but often fraught with shadows underneath.
The South practically originated American gothic. Think Flannery O’Connor and William Faulkner.
Yet the South isn’t the only place where the gothic takes root. What about California?
Both the South and California have deep-rooted, regionally distinct atmospheres that lend themselves naturally to twisted crime stories with a gothic edge. While they differ in texture, both landscapes offer psychological richness, cultural tension, and physical decay that make them ideal for unsettling narratives.
Mike Cobb
Gothic dissonance is baked into California. Palm trees frame crime scenes, and pastel-colored bungalows harbor dysfunction. It has a history of cults, celebrity obsession, broken dreams, and self-help gone wrong—all of which echo in the stories that emerge from its canyons, highways, and suburbs. Sharp contrasts exist between beauty and brutality, Hollywood glamour and desert desolation.
From Chinatown to Zodiac to Under the Silver Lake, California crime stories thrive on the psychological disorientation that comes from illusion’s unraveling.
I note these qualities without disparagement but, rather, out of great admiration. These very characteristics are what make California’s history and culture so rich and unique. So powerful and alluring.
After years of drawing from the Southern gothic well, I now feel pulled westward—not just emotionally, but creatively. Given that deep research is vital to all my writing, I may need to spend a lot more time in California. A prospect I welcome not just with open arms—but with pen in hand.
You can click here to purchase Mike’s latest book from Amazon.
Check out other mystery articles, reviews, book giveaways & mystery short stories in our mystery section. And join our mystery Facebook group to keep up with everything mystery we post, and have a chance at some extra giveaways. Also listen to our new mystery podcast where mystery short stories and first chapters are read by actors! They are also available on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, and Spotify.
Disclosure: This post contains links to an affiliate program, for which we receive a few cents if you make purchases. KRL also receives free copies of most of the books that it reviews, that are provided in exchange for an honest review of the book.
I grew up in CA and lived in GA for a few years, and your comparisons are spot on. I see one other big contrast: in the South (at least in the small towns) it seemed like people were rooted like live oaks to their place of origin, while California is where, historically, people have come to escape their roots and reinvent themselves. These themes show up in the literature of these two very different places.