Rachael Maddux

The November issue of Atlanta magazine is smart and beautiful, and I am honored to have a short essay inside about what it means, to me, to be Southern. It’s about guilt and ghosts and being a kid and not knowing if the Civil War was still happening. I did not know until I opened a copy the other night that I was being illustrated for this, but there I am! Me and my goob face (and a halo, maybe?!) and… oh, what’s all that in the background? Why, it’s horses. And bayonets. HORSES AND BAYONETS. This will stop being funny by the time the issue is even on newsstands but I recommend you pick up a copy anyway because, aside from its inadvertent meme prediction, it’s a very well-done and thoughtful exploration of a big weird slippery idea. I’m proud to be a part of it.

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The November issue of Atlanta magazine is smart and beautiful, and I am honored to have a short essay inside about what it means, to me, to be Southern. It’s about guilt and ghosts and being a kid and not knowing if the Civil War was still happening. I did not know until I opened a copy the other night that I was being illustrated for this, but there I am! Me and my goob face (and a halo, maybe?!) and… oh, what’s all that in the background? Why, it’s horses. And bayonets. HORSES AND BAYONETS. This will stop being funny by the time the issue is even on newsstands but I recommend you pick up a copy anyway because, aside from its inadvertent meme prediction, it’s a very well-done and thoughtful exploration of a big weird slippery idea. I’m proud to be a part of it.