Welcome to Wayward Girls

Happy first day of fall! I’m looking forward to crisp weather, apple cider, and pumpkin spice everything! It’s also the oficial start to spooky season - August is too early corporate America!

Now that all my excitement and exclamation points are out of the way. I want to tell you about my first spooky book of the season. Well, I guess I really read it in August (it takes place in the summer so it’s fine), but it is a good creepy read for anytime of year. That book is Witchcraft for Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix. 

Let’s be real, I picked up this book because of the cool cover art.

Hendrix is primarily known for being a comedy horror writer. His first book (and the first one I read earlier this year), Horrorstör, is about a group of coworkers spending the night in a knock-off IKEA with ghosts and it volleys between horrifying and hilarious. I enjoyed it, though I felt the ending didn’t hit it out of the park (plus a case of too many characters).

An interesting fact about Hendrix’s books, many of them are written with the main point of view character being women. Hendrix is a guy. So when I saw he had written a horror story about pregnant girls in the South, pre Rowe v. Wade, practicing witchcraft, I was a little skeptical.

But Hendrix knocks it out of the park. He doesn’t shy away from the horrible ways these girls are mentally and physically mistreated. He graphically describes giving birth in the 1970s. And this is the none supernatural parts of the book.

In fact, witchcraft doesn't show up for the first 100 pages of the book. It’s a slow burn of real life historical horror that then gets ramped up by creepy witches.

Part of why I think Hendrix was able to pull off this story was because at least two of his relatives were put into these homes to have babies because they were “unwed” mothers. These babies were then spirited away to (most likely) never have contact with their birth mother ever again - regardless of what the mother wanted.

Sometimes, young children were just straight up kidnapped from their mothers under false promises of government help. Georgia Tann was a famous social worker who kidnapped over 5,000 children in Tennessee and sold them to adoption agencies for a fee. This practice still goes on, especially in poor communities around the world. Mothers will think that they are sending their child to a “school” or “government program” only to have their child disappear and end up with an adopted family. This is why it can be difficult and expensive to adopt children period. 

Side note: the American foster system is overflowing with kids who need loving families to look after them. Though many may not be up for adoption, they still need a safe place to call home. 

Hendrix makes sure to include some of his research at the end of the book. He includes stats (where they can be found) and notes that these places the girls were disappeared to largely disappeared after Rowe v. Wade was decided.

I do have to wonder if these homes will start to pop up again in the wake of the Dobbs decision. 

Hendrix captured the horror, heartache, and trauma that these girls were put through. All of the blame was put on these girls. They are stripped of their names, hometowns, and autonomy. Their stories include the fathers of their children, but the home won’t let them speak of their “real” lives, so only the girls are at fault. And as soon as they were no longer pregnant, things could “go back to normal.” 

Except for one girl, a 14 year old who became pregnant by an authority figure in her life. In the book, the 14 year old’s baby is going to be adopted by that authority figure and neither will ever escape him.

That’s why they turn to witchcraft.

The supernatural gives them power that they’d never had even before they were stripped of their identities. But this power comes at a cost. The cost is painful and must equal in proportion of the power being summoned. Once a spell is started, it must be finished or there will be dire consequences.

Earlier this year, I read Stepford Wives and The Movement. Like Witchcraft for Wayward Girls, Stepford Wives was written by a man and told from the perspective of a woman/girl. The Movement is a nonfiction “oral” history (transcripts of interviews) of ten years of the Women’s Liberation Movement in the 1960s and 1970s and provided cultural context for the other two fiction books. It is interesting how well the two men were able to portray horror that primarily affects women through research and empathy.

That doesn’t mean The Stepford Wives nor Witchcraft for Wayward Girls are perfect books. I may have given both five stars on GoodReads (yes, I use it to track my books and get tons of free ones), doesn’t mean I can’t see some flaws. However, don’t let that stop you from checking them out.

Who is a witchcraft for Wayward Girls for? Everyone.

Who maybe should skip this book? I’d say people who have had trauma around childbirth, pregnancy, and/or sexual assault.

What should you know before reading? It’s a slow burn with much more real world horror over the supernatural. It’s a creepy book with a bitter sweet ending. 

Do I recommend Witchcraft for Wayward Girls? Yes, it’s a good story about a time in history that is often swept under the rug in hopes that no one would notice the lumps.

Have you read Witchcraft for Wayward Girls? Let me know in the comments what you thought about it.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y’all like hearing from me.

Until next week.

Welcome to Women in the 1970s

What does it mean to be a “traditional” woman?

I have no idea because the definition for “traditional” women that certain people keep espousing has never existed. Women have always worked (out of the home), women have always had opinions, and women have wanted to be in the driver’s seat of their own lives. 

I recently read two books about women in the 1970s. The first was The Movement: How Women’s Liberation Transformed America, 1963-1973 by Clara Bingham. The second was The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin. You are likely somewhat familiar with the second book. Not only does The Stepford Wives have two movie adaptations (the 1975 version is way better than 2004 version), it’s also become part of the American lexicon to mean the perfect, if creepily robotic woman whose only interest is keeping house and pleasing her husband. Trad wife is a close synonym (in my not to humble opinion).

Reading The Movement before The Stepford Wives helped me to better understand the references and mindset of the latter. The Movement is “a comprehensive and engaging oral history of thedecade that defined the feminist movement” that incorporates intersectional view points that aren’t just from middle aged white suburban women. Bingham makes sure to include view points from more conservative feminists (well the moderates), radicals, LGBTQIA+ people, Black women, Latinas, and their allies. 

Technically, The Movement covers more of the 1960s than the 1970s. The 1960s is when the ball started rolling for the second wave feminists. The National Organization for Women (NOW) was started in the 1960s, Project Jane (abortion access in Chicago) was being set up, and Shirley Chisholm was the first Black woman elected to the US Congress in 1968.

The 1970s part of the book shows the accomplishes made after a decade of fighting for Women’s Rights and what fell through the cracks. The 1970s feminist movement stemmed out of the 1960s sexual revolution and adapted techniques used by the Civil Rights Movement to promote equality of the sexes. NOW was literally supposed to be the women’s version of the NAACP. It’s in the text of The Movement.

The book is all interviews. There are three parts that divide up the decade. Each part has 19 to 21 chapters. Bingham conducted interviews, reviewed archived interview transcripts, and pulled quotes from primary sources to piece together the many moving parts that defined the Women’s Movement of the 1970s. 

It was fascinating and showed the importance of balancing the moderate and the radical in any movement anxious for change. It warned about the problems that happen when progress isn’t followed through with (think the Equal Rights Amendment) and how one person can ruin everything for political clout (like Universal Childcare that was a bipartisan bill vetoed by Nixon). 

It’s not a map or guide for how to create change. The book shows how the US got to where it is today, how hard people fought for the good things we have now, and how those things are threatened today.

Which brings me to my next book.

I first saw the movie, “The Stepford Wives” (1975) in my late 20s. The scene that always stands out to me is when Joanna goes to confront her “changed” friend Bobbie hysterically asking her if she bleeds. Joanna is desperate, she knows she’s going to “change” next, and she realizes how much her husband and the other men in the community have betrayed her and their wives.

Fun fact, the guy who wrote The Stepford Wives, Ira Levin, also wrote The Boys From Brazil and Rosemary’s Baby. How this man is able to tap in the very real paranoia and anxiety women feel and authentically bring it to the page is amazing. I knew the ending of The Stepford Wives going into it. That didn’t stop me from hoping Joanna would do the selfish, yet self preservation choice of leaving her kids, not confronting her husband, and just driving far away. The kids weren’t even in any danger. She could have gotten them back later.

It’s a slow burn thriller that knows how to use gaslighting to the max. It’s also only 120 pages - a weekend read.

I have some many questions following up on The Stepford Wives. Do the kids, especially the girls worry that their fathers will “change” them, too? How do the “changed” women age? Why don’t the pets react negatively to the “changed” women? Do their families outside the area not question ANY of this?

Though I don’t feel capable of writing it, I would like to a follow up to The Stepford Wives following Joanna’s daughter Kim’s point of view. She would have been in the early years of elementary school and would have had memories of her mom before she “changed”. She could compare notes with her childhood friends and older brother, slowly peeling away the horror that her father put her mother through. 

Someone who is not me, please write this.

If you want to make a better future for the next generation, it’s good to know the history of the foundation you’re building a movement on. It’s important to know how hard the people who came before fought to get we are now, how easy it is to backslide, and why these things are important. I’m an independent person who doesn’t want to answer to anyone (especially after reading The Stepford Wives). I don’t want to take for granted the rights I have.

Until next week.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off), please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y’all like hearing from me.