Grady Hendrix consistently comes up with great premises for Horror (I’d recommend ‘Horrorstör’ and ‘My Best Friend’s Exorcism’). Yet, two of the four Hendrix novels that I’ve read, I rated with only a single star, because I’ve experienced issues with his presentation of BIPOC characters (in ‘The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires’) and with his presentation of female characters (in ‘The Final Girl Support Group’). So I was disappointed - yet not surprised - when I encountered both of those difficulties in ‘Witchcraft for Wayward Girls’.

Firstly, Grady Hendrix ascribes socio-economic divisions according to the colour of his characters’ skin. Or: Hendrix ascribes skin colour to his characters according to socio-economic divisions. It makes me feel itchy. And though it might seem presumptuous for a white woman to declaim about the portrayal of race in the American Deep South in the 1970s, the last thing I want to do is cause offense to someone for whom racism is their lived experience. I’ve no touchpoints with these specifics; I’ve never been treated as ‘different’ for the colour of my skin. But I’ve been treated differently when I was an Irishwoman living in England - often told to ‘go back to your own f***ing country’ and other delightful vulgarities along the lines of ‘NO IRISH’ (denied a bank account, turned away as a ‘foreign national’) – and daily I’m treated as ‘different’ for being a lesbian. So, I’m familiar with some types of prejudice, and I’d say my radar for exclusion of marginalised ‘difference’ is attuned with a greater sensitivity. And Grady Hendrix novels do read to me like the author draws BIPOC characters as different, divergent, deviating.

Something unpleasant happens in my belly when I see Grady Hendrix time and again making BIPOC characters the ‘help’ within contemporary settings In ‘Witchcraft for Wayward Girls’, Hendrix draws the cook and the cleaner as women of colour. Why make this distinction? Why aren’t the doctor and the property owner BIPOC if the cook and the cleaner are? Why can’t a cook and a cleaner be white if a social worker and a nurse can be? You tell me! Hendrix is drawing a line between occupations using skin colour; or, vice versa: drawing a line between skin colours using occupations. I’d be interested in hearing what other reviewers say in response to this. I allow that there might be much going on beneath this division, and – wow – would I like to hear about it if there is. I’m sure there’ll be reviewers out there who dismiss this dilemma citing ‘historical accuracy’, but are storm-conjuring and spellcasting and all the ‘groovy’ witchcraft including girls learning to fly, really more believable than a homeowner who’s not Caucasian in the Deep South?

Hendrix dehumanises his BIPOC characters, at times animalising them: Hagar and Miriam are ‘both short and solid with midnight skin, square jaws, strong noses’ – he might as well be describing horses or dogs. Accordingly, he follows this description with Hagar ‘barking’ abuse and threats, and ‘correct[ing] the girls with snarls’ as they help her cook. Miriam instructs the girls in housecleaning, ‘her big hands fluttering over them like hummingbirds.’ My brain can’t help making comparisons with Steinbeck introducing readers to Lennie in ‘Of Mice and Men’ as ‘a huge man, shapeless of face, with large, pale eyes, with wide, sloping shoulders: and he walked heavily, dragging his feet a little, the way a bear drags his paws.’

So, why do I keep jumping at Grady Hendrix novels, when I find his writing problematic like this (especially when, as a personal rule, I don’t read male-authored fiction)? I suppose I keep hoping that Hendrix will redeem himself. So, a little way through ‘Witchcraft for Wayward Girls’, after Hagar and Miriam’s characters are established, Hendrix does introduce a character to the Home for Unwed Mothers who’s described as ‘the one Black girl’, whom they dub Zinnia to disguise her identity (our other main characters are Fern, Holly, and Rose). Hendrix hammers on the point that she comes from a higher social class than some of the other teenagers, and has Rose proclaim that putting her in an attic room away from the other housemates is ‘segregation’ and that ‘None of us are free until we’re all free’:

‘Rose raised her fist in the Black Power salute at Zinnia, and Zinnia looked like she’d prefer to be in the attic room at that minute. Maybe an attic room in another state.’

I’m not convinced that the character of Zinnia redresses Rose’s ‘none of us are free’ point, when – at the novel’s climax – Hendrix again (as he did in ‘The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires’) employs BIPOC characters as the Deus ex Machina to solve the ‘white people’s’ problems. Without giving away spoilers, just when the plot seems like it’s fraying, Hendrix swoops in with a solution out of nowhere, facilitated exclusively through Black characters because they possess secret knowledge and access to what we’d term ‘the elixir’ if we were looking at this as an archetypal Quest narrative. If this isn’t drawing division using skin colour, I don’t know what is. And I just feel wibbly wobbly over the value of establishing these divisions so drastically through exclusivity.

Secondly, I’m uneasy with the way Hendrix uses women’s bodies singularly as the medium for indulging in violence, gore, and bloodshed. In ‘Witchcraft for Wayward Girls’, he chooses to use not only the female body, but the pregnant female body to unsettle, shock, disgust, and distress. In fact, Hendrix goes beyond this and makes his pregnant bodies not women, but underage girls (Holly, the vehicle for arguably the most horrific scene in the novel – as many reviewers are singling out – is fourteen):

‘I need you to understand what they did to us when we were girls. […] We were unsocialized girls, fast girls, loose girls, emotionally immature girls, girls who grew up too fast.’

This goes beyond making me uneasy. We’re into Stephen-King-level provocation here (King has never had a thought about menstruation that hasn’t terrified him!). There’s been plenty written, both academically and in the public sphere on Feminist Theory and Body Horror, and about female representation in Horror, but I’ll reiterate: do we have to keep making women bleed, making girls bleed, keep using menstrual blood and female reproductive fluids in order to publish new horror novels? And just as with King’s ‘Carrie’ (the lazy female-reproduction-cycle-is-witchcraft original!), Hendrix’s main characters in ‘Witchcraft for Wayward Girls’ are naked during the scenes of the most intense Horror (again, Holly). Why do male Horror authors circle round the same tired tropes? Why do male authors so enjoy inventing female characters so that they can abuse them (yet again, Holly)?

Reading this novel, I asked myself what kind of currency Grady Hendrix thinks these tropes carry. That led me to wonder with whom does Hendrix imagine himself cashing in? Does he choose always to write from a female perspective and use the bleeding female body as motif for a female audience, or for a male? And if Hendrix is writing in a female voice for a male audience, what are the dangers of misinformation given that he is taking it upon himself to write about women’s puberty, women’s pregnancy, women’s experiences of giving birth… And ultimately, I was worrying about the binarising of gender. Because I do think, as readers, it bears remembering that every thing the author writes is a choice that they’ve made, and it's worth considering whether we as readers bear an obligation to interrogate the making of these choices, and consider their consequences. Phew! All of that anxious cognition was exhausting, and it came at the expense of an immersive reading experience, because when I was questioning the authenticity of themes and motives, I wasn’t present with the characters.

So while Hendrix does shed light on the mistreatment of girls in the specific circumstances he writes about here, showing that what society termed ‘bad girls, neurotic girls, needy girls, wayward girls, selfish girls, girls with Electra complexes, girls trying to fill a void, girls who needed attention, girls with pasts, girls from broken homes, girls who needed discipline, girls desperate to fit in, girls in trouble, girls who couldn’t say no’ were young women having choices denied them, he does unabashedly use the denial of those same choices to bait his scare traps.

I remain unconvinced as to whether what Hendrix achieves here adds to the dialogue around, or societal awareness of, sex education for young people; access to contraception; sexual abuse; paedophilia; rape. I will excavate my feelings further, but I'm acknowledging here that my knee-jerk reaction is to be tired by, and kick back against, racial division in Hendrix’s novels, and his endorsement of the female-reproduction-as-horrific motif.

With thanks to Pan Macmillan for the ARC.

I liked the concept of this one. These young girls had all their rights and power taken away from them. It was heartbreaking to see them have their babies taken away from them, even though many wanted to keep them. They didn't get a choice.

Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is packed full of feminist rage, friendship, empowerment, and witchiness, with themes of bodily control and power. A sure intense read.

I really wanted to like this more. I've read a couple of other Grady Hendrix books and so knew that boundaries would be pushed and some uncomfortable situations may arise. However, I found the book to be a little too long in my opinion and was slow in actually moving the plot along.

It’s a gutsy move for a privileged male author to dive headfirst into a story about unwed teen pregnancies and the systemic oppression of women, a topic as charged as it is deeply gendered. But Hendrix handles Witchcraft for Wayward Girls with a surprising allyship that feels genuine, even if you side-eye him going in.
Firstly, let’s get one thing straight: this book doesn’t just scare you with witchcraft, gore and graphic body horror—TW: Graphic pregnancy, labour and childbirth scenes—it infuriates.

This book is absolutely gut wrenching.
The story follows a group of pregnant teenage girls before abortion was an option.
The fantastic writing really makes you feel what it is like to be in this situation, rejected by society and your family.
To be only allowed to feel shame, to be alone, scared and denied any voice or choice.

The horror aspects are great, both the very graphic body horror and the more psychological interaction with the witches. I loved that the plot was the direct consequence of the characters being deprived of any support or help from the adults who should protect them.

This is a very powerful story, and it will stay with me for some time.

This book was not at all what I expected it to be. I expected at witchy horror novel and instead read a visceral, thought provoking story of women's reproductive rights and the horrors that unwed women experienced in 1970.

I am in no doubt that the stories of the girls in this book will have happened countless times during that time period without the intervention of witchcraft and reading about it was horrifying.

The narrative was handled so well throughout and my heart ached for our four main characters and the different situations that each of them found themselves in. I did not expect to cry at this one but I sobbed my way through the final chapter often with a smile on my face.

I have loved most of what Grady Hendrix has written but this book by far is the one by this author that will stay with and ensure I pick up everything else written in future.

As with many of Hendrix's books this has graphic body horror and medical horror included so please check trigget warnings before reading.

One of the easiest 5 stars I'll give this year for sure.

4.5 ⭐
This book was raw and graphic and talked about the way women have been considered ‘crazy’ and ‘delusional’ for centuries and are deemed incapable when it comes to dealing with matters of their bodies. I know this book was set before women were allowed to get abortions in the US and it is heartbreaking to see how the practice is still in effect today. This novel had well fleshed out characters and he wasn’t afraid to talk about how hauntingly accurate and glossed over most of their stories are and wasn’t afraid to make it graphic and deeply disturbing. I also really liked how he took the taboo topic of being witches and performing magic and used it as a means of escape for the girls when they had nowhere and no one to turn to for comfort.

Definitely one of my favorite works of his so far.

Thank you to Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for providing me with the digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Witchcraft for Wayward Girls plunges the reader into the lives of teenage girls, in 1970, living in a home for unmarried mothers while waiting for their babies to be born. It's a horror novel that begs the question: is the 'horror' the setting or the supernatural events that take place? For many readers, the horror will lie in this glimpse into the reality of the fundamentally misogynist, adoption-oriented maternity homes that so many thousands of women were forced to endure thoughout the late 19th and most of the 20th century.*

The girls in Witchcraft for Wayward Girls have been essentially banished by their parents to an isolated maternity home in Florida, Wellwood House, to continue their pregnancy in secret then give up their babies for adoption before returning home to continue their lives and [ha!] forget any of it ever happened.

"We were girls. That's what they called us in their articles and their speeches and their files: bad girls, neurotic girls, needy girls, wayward girls, selfish girls, girls with Electra complexes, girls trying to fill a void, girls who needed attention, girls with pasts, girls from broken homes, girls who needed discipline, girls desperate to fit in, girls in trouble, girls who couldn't say no.
For girls like us, down there at the Home, the devil turned out to be our only friend."
- Witchcraft for Wayward Girls - Grady Hendrix

The main character in Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is Neva Craven, a 15-year-old girl from Alabama. When she arrives at Wellwood House to have her baby, she finds herself amidst a group of girls who got pregnant through ignorance, childish thoughtlessness or abuse. These girls are CHILDREN, the eldest 18, the youngest just turned 14. They are given a semblance of choice regarding whether or not their baby will be adopted, but in practice they have no choice: all their babies will be taken from them and adopted. The girls are entirely powerless, with other people making every decision for them, denying them agency in the most important thing that has ever happened to them. They are children, being treated like children, while being reviled for being pregnant — as if their pregnancy had been by choice. As if it had been an informed choice, taken by an adult who had selfishly or wilfully opted to do the 'wrong' thing.

Power is a central theme in this novel. For example, from the first day in the home, the girls are even denied the power of identity: each girl is given a pseudonym to be used throughout their stay, and forbidden from revealing to the other girls any true information about their name, family, origin or personal story. At hospital, they will be registered as Jane Doe. The adoption papers will be signed by Jane Doe.

Yes, it's ostensibly a 'horror' novel involving witchcraft. But the horror lies in the way these girls were treated. The horror is their fear, confusion, loneliness, abandonment and unspeakable pain. The horror is a 14-year-old child who would be sent back to the man who abused her. All of this horror seared my soul. I could not stop crying as I read it.

As Neva (now called Fern) begins to dabble in witchcraft with her friends Rose, Holly and Zinnia, the girls gain a modicum of agency and independence. But just as their childish ignorance and innocence landed them in the maternity home, so their crude attempt to harness the power of witchcraft also lands them in trouble, victims of powers far beyond their control.

This review contains too many near-spoilers already so I'll refrain from more spoilers about the witchcraft element. Suffice to say there's mayhem aplenty!

Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is an absorbing, beautifully written novel that will move many readers to tears. The characters are well rounded and unique individuals, each with a distinctive voice and personality. It completely broke my heart, not by playing me with saccharine scenes but by rousing my empathy, anger and pity.

*It breaks my heart even further, and fills me with fear and overwhelming rage, knowing that the latest repressive political powers (in the US, but spreading insidiously) will no doubt force more girls and women into similar circumstances over the coming years.

My thanks to the author, publisher and Netgalley for giving me a free copy of this book. All my reviews are 100% honest and unbiased, regardless of how I acquire the book.

I chose to read a free eARC of Witchcraft for Wayward Girls but that has in no way influenced my review.

A new Grady Hendrix book is a wonderful thing! I own the majority of this author's back catalogue, which I'm slowly making my way through (there aren't enough hours in the day for us slower readers!) so when this beauty popped up on the socials, I did everything in my power to get hold of a copy. I mean, look at that stunning cover (the US cover is worth a look too!). I was excited to get stuck into Witchcraft for Wayward Girls.

It's 1970, Neva is fifteen years old and nearly 6 months pregnant. Her father, who radiates nothing but disappointment, drives her in near silence to Florida. Neva has no idea of where they are going but she's smart enough to know something doesn't feel quite right. Their destination is Wellwood House, a home for young, unwed mothers. Whilst Neva is shown around the house, out of sorts and in utter dismay, her father signs the paperwork and leaves without saying goodbye. Neva is told she needs to leave her old life back in Alabama behind. She can't talk about her past, she can't share any personal details and she can't tell anyone her real name. She's now Fern and her days will be spent carrying out chores and waiting for the inevitable, the arrival of her baby. Fern begins to make friends whilst hating every moment away from her family. The days are long, the food is awful and the healthcare provision is very old and very fusty. The only thing which brings joy is the arrival of the travelling library, staffed by the ancient Miss Parcae. Miss Parcae takes an interest in Fern, one day slipping her a book from behind the counter titled 'How to be a Groovy Witch'. Suddenly the girls have something else to occupy their minds. Out for revenge towards the adults who dictate and dominate their days, they try a simple spell -- and suddenly the power balance shifts. But in exchange for the book, Fern and her friends made a blood promise, albeit in haste. And promises must be kept no matter what the consequences...

Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is a beautifully written, supernatural horror novel. Hendrix's characters are once again divine. The author spends a lot of quality time shaping and moulding the main players, so the reader really gets to know the bones of them. Life is pretty miserable for these young women, the youngest being fourteen. Being fed lies by the adults responsible for them, promises of pain-free, easy labour that they won't even be awake for. When Fern witnesses the gory truth in the bathroom, she begins to question everything the girls have been told. So when a new power enters their lives in exchange for the ultimate sacrifice, how can they say no? After all, it's only words. It doesn't really MEAN anything.

Would I recommend this book? I would, yes. Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is a character-driven, supernatural, coming of age tale that I found both compelling and entrancing. There is quite a big build up to anything witchy actually happening but this is the readers' chance to get to know the teens at the heart of this story. Alongside Fern there are a small group of girls who together make a promise they probably shouldn't have and are dragged kicking and screaming into the melee. I believed in all of these characters. They were all strong personalities, a bonded group of friends thrown together due to their circumstance. Unlikely to have met otherwise. I became invested in their lives and wanted to see their story through to the end. The way the teens are treated, the now outdated views held by the adults in the book and the vivid, eerie setting of the isolated home for wayward girls was handled masterfully by the author. Bloody brave of a male author to take on a story like this but again, handled like the pro Hendrix is. If you're a horror fan then you need Witchcraft for Wayward Girls in your life. And if you're not, then this is a fantastic choice to cut your teeth on! With dark themes, beautifully written characters and a slow, escalating horror from start to finish, I very much enjoyed the time I spent with this fabulous, dark novel. Recommended.

I chose to read and review a free eARC of Witchcraft for Wayward Girls. The above review is my own unbiased opinion.

[Review will be published on Tuesday 21st January]

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥.”

I’m a huge fan of everything Grady Hendrix writes so receiving an early copy of his latest release was a dream come true! I will admit, I went into this with a little bit of side eye. Grady is BOLD to write a feminist horror about pregnant teenage girls in the 70’s being sent off to homes to have their babies in secret, especially after the awful shock of overturning Roe v. Wade. I went into this not sure that he could pull of such a sensitive subject, but he actually wrote it so sympathetically and respectfully that it really does feel like he completely gets and empathises with it.

After accidentally getting pregnant at fifteen, Fern is abandoned by her family in a time she needs them most and taken to a home for wayward girls. Here they are hidden away from the rest of the world, protecting their families from the shame of an unwed pregnancy, Grady did an incredible job of reflecting the issues of that particular time period, not only the stigma of teenage pregnancies but also racism, religion and the failures of both the support and health systems.

In the home, she meets a group of girls who all come from different backgrounds and ways of life, all in there for one reason; they’re in a situation their families are too mortified to deal with personally. It’s good to go into this blind and I don’t want to give too much away; this is a slower paced book that is much more character focused than plot. I found myself disliking the main character at times but now I look back I wonder if it was intentional; she was so easily influenced by the adults around her it took time to realise their treatment of her and the other girls was wrong. I became attached to the group of ‘witches’ in that Italic:

The true horror is in how these girls are treated - shamed for their mistakes, made to feel their only chance at redemption is to get through the exhaustion and draining pregnancy, to hand over their babies at the end with no chance of ever seeing them again. It’s inhumane and I found myself constantly angry at how the people in the home treated the girls, from the hideous male doctor to the cooks and carers they’re surrounded by. It’s crystal clear that Grady did his research on this, writing a narrative that made it hard for the FMC to even determine her own feelings from the strong opinions constantly put upon her and the other girls.

This book is a hard read because of the topics it covers and absolutely not one to pick up if you’re squeamish. This is so different to all of his other books, even the witchy aspect doesn’t kick in until after the 100 page mark. It’s a cruel and shocking story of finding strength in both yourself and your peers, to realise the people who should protect you can be the biggest disappointments and to want them to understand how they make you feel (with a little help of a hex or two).

For me this was a 4.5⭐️ read with my one and only criticism being that there wasn’t enough witchcraft given the title. But I loved this and would highly recommend to any horror or Hendrix fans.

Thank you so much to Pan MacMillan and Nightfire publishing for an early proof copy and the coolest PR box I’ve ever received in my life, in exchange for my honest review.

This book is very dark, it covers a period of history when women did not have rights and decisions were taken out of their hands. Neva is fifteen, she has gotten pregnant and her father takes her to a home for unwed mothers in Florida to have her baby. At the home she is given a new name, Fern, and a new regiment of work to get through the days and weeks. She makes friends with Rose, Holly and Zinnia and they become part of a coven after Fern gets How To Be A Groovy Witch from the library bus. The first spell they cast is to teach the doctor a lesson about morning sickness, once this works they want to cast another to help Rose, to do this they must pledge themselves to the librarian. Each spell they cast helps a member of their group, they want to help Holly who has been abused for many years but they do not understand the price that needs to be paid to perform this magic.

This is a book about hardship, societal divides, found family and sisterhood. It is very dark and brutally graphic in places, but it had me hooked from the start. I recommend this to anyone who likes historical fiction, feminist fiction or supernatural/horror reads. It is gritty and gripping.

Thank you to NetGalley and Pan MacMillan for letting me read this advanced copy.

4.5 stars.
I’ve yet to meet a Grady Hendrix book that I don’t like, and this maintains that streak. Using horror and the paranormal to tell a story of the treatment of unwed mothers in the 70’s is so on the nose that it hurts…it was both horrific and not normal for any caring society. For a man to write about this topic could have gone terribly wrong but it never feels exploitative, in fact it’s just the opposite. Hendrix gives this group of oppressed women their agency back, he gives them powers and a community that can overcome their situations and strike fear into the hearts of man. This is female rage being put to use against the people,that brought it about in the first place.
There is real heart and humour throughout the story and this is achieved by writing such detailed characters and emotional dialogue. Without it, the book could have felt like you were being dragged from fantastical scene to traumatic scene over and over with no let-up, just being beaten over the head with spectacle. As it is, you don’t even realising that you have raced through nearly 500 pages as you’re so caught up in the lives of all the girls and the women that help/hinder them.
This is probably more creepy and intense than the straight-out horror of other Hendrix books I’ve read but it’s just as scary - only this time the scares are closer to home and reality (I definitely wouldn’t recommend it to anyone in the least bit squeamish about pregnancy and childbirth!). It’s a great piece of period writing too, the culture and look of the 70’s is captured brilliantly.

It’s amazing how easy it is to blame a group for all the ills of the world. It’s the immigrants, it’s the young, it’s people on the internet (that one may have a point) and over centuries the single mother has long been a focus of contempt. Not just portrayed as a drain on the estate but a woman acting sexually out of wedlock! Never mind that biology says a man was involved all the blame goes on the woman or sometimes young girl. How they’ve been treated is shameful and often horrific, this is explored intelligently in Grady Hendrix’s historical horror Witchcraft for Wayward Girls taking to the America of the early 1970s to a time before Roe Vs Wade and where a group of pregnant teenagers are being hidden from the world, treated as sinners and may have a chance to find their own inner power to strike back. It’s a very immersive piece of storytelling I enjoyed hugely

It’s 1970 Neva is fifteen and pregnant. Her father barely talks to her as he drives her to the Wellwood Home in Florida. She is to stay in the Home for the next few weeks, have and give up her baby and only then can return to her life. Neva is soon renamed Fern as no one is allowed to discuss their past and just becomes one of the many girls going through the doors of Wellwood under its strict owner’s religious eyes. No longer a person, day managed by hours, dirt controlled and no freedom but a kindly librarian named Mrs Parcae has offered a way to push back via the handbook How To Be A Groovy Witch which Fern and her few new friends find offers a little revenge but slowly they want more. But all magic carries a high price and how far is Fern willing to pay it.

In this novel the concept of storms becomes quite key later on the story and structurally that’s the type of take we have here. A gathering, building summer thunderstorm which while can be pretty to look at from afar is something else far more disturbing when you’re caught in the middle of it. It’s a great story exploring its themes and combining this with horrors both human and supernatural.

The first act is completely non-supernatural as Hendrix immerses us into the period and Fern’s more immediate world. Her father refused to even say goodbye, very soon she is constantly judged for having had sex out of wedlock and social workers and doctors just see her as either a problem, a disgrace or a vehicle for carrying a child. This is the long stifling summer of building pressure. The girls can’t leave the Home, it’s every day looking like the last, pasts are not shared and the few things allowed are smoking (!) and watching tv. This all helps build up the atmosphere and demonstrates how little agency the girls we meet have. Three key characters join Fern. There is 17 year old Rose the rebel carrying the attitudes of the 60s still to protest against power, Zinnia a well educated black teenager suddenly plunged into less enlightened Florida and the underestimated Holly just turned 13 and refusing to talk. Slowly these girls become a unit and break the rules against sharing how they got here. Hendrix very much makes us see them as people again. We see they have lives, ambitions and have been poorly treated by men and then families ashamed to help. There is also Frank discussion of sexual abuse. This is an unfair world and no one is on their side. Hendrix makes us more than ready to see what a bit of magic can do to even the odds.

Initially the storm then just has some pretty lightening strikes. A librarian is clearly a force for good and the Groovy Witch Handbook seems more mischievous - there is IMMENSE satisfaction watching a doctor with no bedside manner get taken down many pegs. But when you’re treated with incredible unkindness then the temptation to do more rises. The next trick while gives the girls and the reader immense satisfaction when we then have to see the consequences makes us sit down and say that may have gone too far. But the girls now need even more. Our kindly librarian Mrs Parcae has some ideas to help.

In the words of the Eurythmics some of them want to use you and some of them want to abuse you. The middle act introduce covens, ancient lines of witches and also we see the Home and the system it is part of also spring into action. The guilt trips, the medicine and emotional blackmail thrown at Fern and others is again horrific and it’s even more disturbing when we see the girls try to report abuse and no one even cares. Only the girls are to blame for their situation - just do what you’re told. If we can’t show empathy and kindness is it any wonder people the decide to strike back even with something that may have its own consequences for themselves? The supernatural scenes following onare delightfully powerful and thrilling. After the blandness of the home being in nature, filled with energy and the sense they have power it’s intoxicating so no wonder our mini coven get swept away but only when the price is finally explained do we realise yet again Fern is still being told what to do and not expected to have . The question is does she perhaps want to pay it?

After all this build up the final acts are fast paced and let rip. The pacing deliberately lets loose and picks up steam. A full on monsoon of set pieces come together. Again Hedrick mixes human horror with the supernatural. Fern’s birth and the aftermath is largely payed straight and the use of clinical terms and the complete absence of warmth and kindness she is shown make this a cold distant process not a moment where she can take any joy. Another birth is shown more naturally but equally shows the danger of the of process for a teenager. These are just teenagers and no one seems to have their backs for very long. It builds and builds until an epic confrontation between Parcae, Fern and the Home’s staff arises and the emotional punches continue all the way. It makes us quite unsure what Fern eventually does. Her answer makes sense but I really liked how Hendrix makes us see the bittersweet consequences down the years after.

There are a few things I thought could have been stronger. A key character names Hagar is the Home’s Black cook with her own hidden knowledge of magic. While I really enjoyed her scenes she felt a little more plot convenient than a full character in her own right and perhaps an earlier glimpse of her life and her own agency in how she sees the Hone than just suddenly helping the girls would have been useful to move her away from magical support character. Perhaps a little more exploration of Parcae and her coven too was needed as the glimpses is this ancient witch line are really interesting and I’d like to have known what they did next too.

Once I started reading this quickly consumed me as I needed to see what balked to Fern and her friends. Always a good sign of a great story. I come away from Witchcraft for Wayward Children feeling I’ve been in that Home and have a much better understanding of the time this happened. It chimes with tales you hear in the U.K. but Hendrix makes it really come alive in all its horrific unkindness. The supernatural elements are both frightening and enticing. You may feel it’s also the less evil…ish. It also reminds us as we enter 2025 that storms can rise again and gives us a warning what that can lead to perhaps we need to batten down the hatches and be ready. A thoughtful and extremely entertaining story that I can highly recommend!

Young, teenage pregnant girls sent away by their parents to have their babies away from so called respectability. All girls have to relinquish their real names whilst there and work for their keep.
On library day, Fern meets Mrs Parcae, a seemingly innocuous woman who gives her an occult book about witchcraft. Fern believes it can solve the problems she and her fellow roommates face now and now their babies are born. They can hardly believe the power they have now. However this power comes at a price and someone has to pay.
My heart broke for some of the girls, namely Holly's situation. It wasn't as witchy as I anticipated, more around the injustices faced by the girls, I wouldn't necessarily class it as a horror novel although there was some graphic writing in relation to the birthing chapters. Other whole I enjoyed the book

this book was so delicious. I have only read one of Grady Hendrix's books before this one (My Best Friend's Exorcism) and I am delighted to say not only did I enjoy this book as much as I did that one, but I actually enjoyed it more. The world around 'Fern' was exquisitely captured and depicted, the suspense, the everything! I was so enraged throughout the book on behalf of the girls in it. I felt so deeply for them, a testament to Hendrix's depiction

Thank you to netgalley, the publisher and the author for the advance copy to read.

This was my first novel by Grady Hendrix. I really enjoyed the writing and it drew me in from the very start. I am not usually into dark genres but I actually found myself really enjoying this. The first half was lighter and easier to read through which captivated my attention and kept me wanting to read to the end.

A really great read, that I thoroughly enjoyed. It would be perfect for autumn too if you are a mood reader.

Thank you to NetGalley for this ARC. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

The systematic oppression of women and unwed teen pregnancies are not topics I would think a priveleged, white male author could pull off...and I was right. Though a bold move, Hendrix should have left this one alone.

The pacing of this was not good at all. It was so slow and took far too long for it to get even remotely interesting. There was a lot of set up and there were so many girls introduced that it was hard to tell them apart. It's only later down the line do you start to identify who's important and who's not. Fern the main character lacked personality, there was also no growth with her either.

My biggest issue, apart from the subject matter, was how Hendrix wrote his black characters. The use of the 'magical negro trope' was not necessary and I was deeply uncomfortable with how the token black characters were used to better the white characters story, leading his characters to fall into overdone stereotypes.

Onto the horror aspect of this, I finished the book wandering when and where this was supposed to come into play so I think that says it all really.

I have read two other Hendrix books, one I liked and one I DNF'd and if this wasn't and ARC I'd have DNF'd this one to. Deeply disappointed with this as I was really looking forward to it.

I can't be the only one to receive an unreadable ARC and refuse to tick the 'i won't give feedback button' which ultimately lowers my own reviewer score and lessens my chances of acceptance on other titles?
Find a better way NG!
Neutral rating added to keep the balance.

Sadly, this will likely be a DNF for me. I cannot see myself picking this back up.

The premise sounds fantastic, but the plot is taking a little too long to get moving.

My main reason for putting this down is due to the descriptions of black characters. The choice of language felt incredibly uncomfortable, and I found that hard to move on from. Whether it's 'historically accurate' or otherwise, I feel there were probably a dozen other ways one could describe these characters and that choice wasn't made.

Thank you to the publisher for the arc nonetheless.

What an amazingly powerful story. I couldn't put it down. The way the events were captured in this story were extremely sad, yet endearing. The power of each other, the support and facing such huge decisions.
This took my breath away.

Thank you to the author, publisher and netgalley for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review.

As I already read a couple of Grady Hendrix‘s books (We Sold Our Souls being my first and still favorite), I had a general idea of what to expect from Witchcraft for Wayward Girls. In hindsight, I so wasn’t ready for this book. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve read it in 3 days, I totally was sucked into it, but holy shit was it an uncomfortable read. And I’m saying this as I used to read grimdark fantasy novels.

Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is set in the summer of 1970, in Florida, in a private Home for pregnant unwed girls and women who are tucked away far from their families under false names until they give birth, their babies are given away (or sold, more like, although it’s only hinted at, strongly, but still) and they can return home like nothing ever happened. Yep, it’s as bad as it sounds. As I never lived in the 70s, I can’t comment on how accurate the portrayal of the era is (I suspect very accurate), but it’s hard to imagine now how these girls were treated (and I have a feeling in some parts of the world they still are) not only by strangers but by their own families. Like they were trash, like everything was their fault, like they stopped being human beings almost.

Hendrix in this novel tells the story of four particular girls: Fern, Rose, Holly, and Zinnia. Well, that’s mostly how we know them anyway, named after flowers by Miss Wellwood who runs the Home that happens to be her family manor and was run by her father, a doctor, before her. While I didn’t like Miss Wellwood’s character much, I sure appreciated the layers Hendrix applied to her personality, which became clear during one particular episode, which goes to show that you can never know what lies in one’s past and how they cope with trauma. And that sometimes people delude themselves into thinking they are doing the right thing as it was done to them before.

Powerless, belittled, scared, and learning things about the world they never imagined, the four girls grab the first opportunity that’s dangled before them to take things into their own hands. Little do they know that the price might be more than they are willing to pay. And I’m leaving it at that, as I wouldn’t want to spoil the plot for you.

I generally prefer character-driven stories, or books where I can connect with the character(s), Witchcraft for Wayward Girls drew me in with the storytelling. Reading it felt like a bit when you can’t take your eyes off of a tragedy happening right before your eyes. But as I’m not a mother and I’m not planning to be one, it was harder to connect with the story in a deeper emotional level. Then again, I’m not sure I would recommend this to people who do plan to become pregnant because some of the scenes of giving birth might give you second thoughts. I honestly could have done without some details, which I’m not 100% convinced were entirely necessary.

And therein lies my problem with rating this book. Hendrix touched a topic that’s not easy to write (or read) about at the best of times (and we all know that similar or even worse things happened to young women all over the world in homes kept in much worse state, just look up Ireland’s past with such homes ran by the Catholic Church and nuns). In that regard, Hendrix’s version of a Home is pretty tame, even if the way doctors and nurses handled pregnancy and pregnant women would raise quite a lot of eyebrows today. Such as letting them smoke. I felt like Hendrix captured the era very well – again, as I never lived in it, I don’t really have a comparison – and the whole atmosphere. I could easily feel like I was there sweating with these girls in the Florida summer. And we are in the middle of the winter here, so that’s saying something.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, Hendrix is a very accomplished and skilled writer who I’m pretty sure could write about anything – and make it look much, much worse – but this might be a too sensitive topic to turn into horror fantasy. I mean, it’s horrific enough in itself – and I guess that just makes it even more bone chilling if you think about it – I’m not sure adding witchcraft to the mix was quite necessary.

I’m also not sure who would be the right audience for Witchcraft for Wayward Girls. You definitely need to have a strong resolve, because apart from the gory bits, it’s still not a light read. It crawls under your skin, makes you uncomfortable and refuses to leave your mind for a long time. Under anyone else’s hands, this book could have been a disaster, but Hendrix approached with care, and nuance. At its heart, Witchcraft for Wayward Girls is about the power of women and how far you would go to get it back from those who took it. That, and karma is a bitch.

This was amazing, filled with the usual gory and uncomfortable scenes while also focusing on a wider issue. I still don't know how I feel about a man writing about the systematic oppression of women and teen pregnancy but Grady Hendrix does manage to pull it off in a way most male authors don't!