For readers of Know My Name by Chanel Miller and fans of Broadway’s John Proctor Is the Villain, a stunning memoir in verse about sexual abuse, survival, and sisterhood from the New York Times bestselling author of Blood Water Paint.
Joy McCullough’s earliest memories are of time spent in church, moments when she climbed the steps to recite from the pulpit, just like her preacher father. But when she was a teenager in San Diego in the 1990s, her connection to her family and church were forever altered when a youth pastor groomed and sexually assaulted Joy.
In her debut memoir, McCullough pairs achingly raw poems recalling her abuse and its aftermath with hopeful, challenging verses about her life today as she seeks healing and justice in a country that rewards men for sexual abuse and still insists “girls these days will say anything.”
Among the poems, McCullough also weaves prose letters to historical girls and women—from Joan of Arc to Abigail Williams—whose lives and stories were ignored when they were caught in the maelstrom of witchcraft accusations.
Suffer a Witch shines a bright, unsparing light on one woman’s experience—and on those of generations of women who came before her.
This was a tough read, but it was also incredibly powerful and moving. Written in verse, Joy McCullough tells the story of the grooming and sexual abuse she endured by the youth pastor at her church. The book is interspersed with letters to women throughout history that were accused of witchcraft. A heartbreaking, infuriating, and incredibly important read.
This book was a beautiful and raw account of a woman’s experience with navigating/processing her childhood sexual abuse. She also incorporated letters written to women who were accused/accused others during the witch trials, and how their experiences so deeply mirror her own experiences, as well as those of modern day women. It’s a lovely tribute to survivors. I’m looking forward to reading her other works.
*** I received this book as an Advanced Reader’s Copy. I would actually rate it a 4.5, but GoodReads only likes whole numbers. 😁 My review follows.
I had my doubts about reading this book when I received it as an ARC giveaway, but I love novels in verse and memoirs so hunkered down and started reading. For the first 60 pages I was forcing myself to continue and really didn’t think I would finish because my initial impression of the author, Joy McCullough, was that she was so angry and bitter that I could not connect with her. I just “knew” that this book was going to be blaming every man and every church and Christianity in general for what happened to her.
However, I kept reading and suddenly realized that this story felt familiar, like a book I had read back in the fall. I walked over to the novels in verse section of my classroom library and discovered that the book felt familiar because it was familiar. I had read “Blood Water Paint” by Joy McCullough a few months ago. So again, I kept reading. And you know what? I could not put this book down!
I loved the pauses in the narrative for the letters to women throughout history. I loved the connections made between men with power over women not getting what they want and women being accused of being witches. (I thought A LOT about that and even stopped took a little bit of time in class to discuss it with my students.) I loved the emotional struggles I experienced as the author shared her the trauma she experienced. And I loved that as the story continued I no longer felt the bitterness and anger from the beginning of the book but rather the confusion and betrayal the author dealt with.
This book would have been a 5 for me if it weren’t for these two sticking points, which may not be a problem for most people. They are for me though. First, I really, really dislike gross generalization made about institutions that lead to the villainization of churches/Christianity, entire justice systems, etc., rather than placing blame where it is specifically needed (her youth pastor, her father, her church, the specific officer who shared information, etc.). And secondly, I do not want to know the political viewpoints of the author I am reading. We are already so surrounded by political divisions that I don’t want it spilling into my treasured reading time. The political bias was present throughout the book but was overwhelmingly obvious when the author created a lengthy list of women sexually assaulted by powerful men but skipped over likes of the Kennedys and Clintons of the world.
I did love this book and happily give it 4.5 stars, maybe even a 4.75.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Young Readers Group for providing an ARC of this title. All opinions are my own.
Joy McCullough is a heavy hitter for me in the world of YA literature, and of course I can't resist a book with witchy influences. While not every single part of this worked for me--for instance, the poem that's just the section of the California Penal Code that lists all the individuals who are considered mandated reporters fell flatter than I think it was intended to--the whole is a stunningly raw, vulnerable, and powerful mirror held up to a society that has failed young women and girls since time immemorial. The open letters to witches of history (and witchcraft trials accusers, such as Abigail Williams, Ann Putnam Jr., and Betty Parris) are especially well done, as McCullough finds a threads of commonality between their terrible histories and her her own traumatic experiences. While there isn't necessarily justice in her tale, the conclusion the book seems to draw is that being a voice for other victims--for calling out these evils where she sees them--is its own kind of justice. Ideal for fans of memoirs or novels in verse.
📝 ARC Review: This hits hard from the start… the dedication: “To the angry girl, to the girl who tells her truth, to the girl who keeps her truth, if you find yourself in these pages, I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault. - I wrote this for you.”
This memoir was extra impactful for me as I love writing and reading poetry, and this was written in poetry & verse. Also, I’ve dealt with childhood SA in my own life and known people who were abused and let down by “church members”.
In between the heartbreaking poems of a girl who was taken advantage of by someone in a position of power and trust, we also have the author writing letters to women in history, mostly from the witch trials time. I appreciated becoming better acquainted with some of these historical figures who were mistreated and even killed because they were women and dared to reach for things men deemed unacceptable.
This memoir is raw and tragic. The author doesn’t hold back her honesty, her shame, her regrets, nor her actions to try and save others from a similar fate and bring attention to strong women from the past.
Topics such as religion, childbirth, “witches”, forced submission of women, rap£, self harm and PTSD are prevalent throughout this memoir.
(I also appreciated the explanation at the end of the book in regard to the importance of the book cover! I had forgotten until this triggered my memory, of the biblical story of Jael, who drove a tent stake through Sisera’s head. The cover made so much sense after the author explained that painting!)
Quote’s 👇 (Taken from an uncorrected proof ARC)
“… too aware the sanctuary was anything but.”
“… my rage at having my body made a thing for someone else’s amusement.”
“… can finally breathe which is wild because I didn’t even know I was suffocating.”
“… if anyone is going to hurt my body it’s going to be me.”
“… the women lost because the world feared their power.”
Genre: Memoir; poetry & verse. POV: First Person My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 5/5 Release Date: August 18, 2026
- Witch trials - Strong women who were oppressed - Recounting of religious figure taking advantage of the youth in his care - Learning how to stand up and fight for yourself & others - Based on a true story - Feminine rage
CW’s 👇
- Underage SA - Grooming by an abuser - SA from a youth pastor - Mention of self harm - Topic of abortion - Mention of death of an infant/children - Injustice to women/murder of women - Injustice in religion - Failure to protect the innocent - Pastor/Father turning blind eye to SA - Complex PTSD/long lasting trauma
Thank you to NetGalley and the author for this ARC in exchange for my honest review.
This was a hard read. Not mechanically, of course--though reading a book written in verse when you're used to prose does take a bit of an adjustment. There were times when I had to read parts over again, slightly differently than how I had originally read them to make better sense of the words and what the author meant, and other times when I just sat back and looked at the shapes the words made on the page and how that added to their meaning.
I don't read a lot of poetry...though apparently when I do, it's poetry that will make me cry (Odder, I'm looking at you).
But the subject--that was hard. Not that I thought it wouldn't be--grooming, abuse, abuse of power, betrayal, the part that religion often plays in all of the former--all subjects that should be hard to read. The way the author interspersed her own story with notes she wrote to various women through history (all of whom had some connection to witchcraft accusations--either accused, accuser, or both) was interesting--the first one took me out of the book for a minute (wait...am I supposed to know who Eufame is? Some day I will read entire book blubs before I sit down to start reading a new book, but clearly today was not that day) but once I realized what she was doing I began to look forward to those parts, even when they made me tear up even more than I already was.
There were so many WTAF moments throughout the book, but one of the ones that will probably stick with me longer than I want it to was when the author mentioned that after Blood Water Paint came out she was told time and time again how "timely" it was (a few months into the #MeToo movement) and she listed all the other times in history when it also would have been "timely"--which, of course, it still is today.
Ugh.
Also--her list of triggers. And the perfectly innocent times that they still trigger her in everyday life to this day, years after her abuse.
So, yeah. This was a hard read. But a really good one too.
Side note: the formatting (or lack of, honestly) on the Kindle version of the ARC made trying to read this next to impossible--thank goodness for the Netgalley reader, which (as far as I could tell) kept the original formatting and saved my sanity.
Rating: 4 1/2 stars / A
I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy of this book.
*Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review*
Suffer a Witch is a memoir-in-verse by Joy McCullough about her time in the church, the abuse she encountered during that time, and surviving the aftermath of those events. It weaves in the stories of historical women whose stories had previously been neglected. It is this historical resuscitation that has continually drawn me to McCullough. Her voice comes through so clearly in Blood Water Paint, I knew I had to read her again.
A memoir is a difficult thing to rate, especially one that recounts such personal and traumatic memories. McCullough demonstrates incredible bravery through her powerful prose and stunning verse. She crafts her story in a way very few people can. Her writing makes her story visceral, creating an intimacy with the reader that feels like she is right there telling you the story. This intimacy makes McCullough a force to be reckoned with; she doesn't pull punches, and her raw honesty sets a powerful example for readers of what bravery looks like. I have no doubt it will inspire others to recognize and confront the painful parts of their own stories, write their own narratives, and move towards healing.
The small "biographies" of historical women inserted into the narrative are a large reason why this book didn't make it to five stars for me. While I loved learning about these women and it felt important to know their names and hear their stories, it took me out of McCullough's narrative in a big way. I wasn't expecting these stories in a memoir, and while I am able to see the ways that they weave into McCullough's story, it felt a little dicey to me to use other women's stories as a way of telling your own. There is certainly a time and place for these stories; they absolutely need to be heard, and I would love for McCullough to be the one to tell them, but this didn't feel like the right place. The placements occasionally were awkward for me, and the intermittent insertion of McCullough's own voice, narrative, or assumptions into the biographies threw me off.
I will always appreciate what McCullough is doing; she is telling stories in a way I feel very few authors are. She is an incredible author, poet, and storyteller. I will continue to seek her out and read the stories she is telling. I am always learning from her, growing in new ways from her writing, and left in awe in some ways. While this wasn't necessarily a hit for me, it is nonetheless inspiring, brave, and poignant.
Joy McCullough’s Suffer a Witch: A Memoir was a fantastic read. Here, McCullough uses a hybrid form to combine poetry, memoir and historical non-fiction to create a collection of stories woven into her own, showing the historical links between Eve, the women accused of witchcraft and her own traumas. Joy McCullough was raised in the Presbyterian church and being the pastor’s daughter made her a prominent figure. During her teens she was sadly abused by her youth pastor, a serial offender who has never being brought to justice. She calls this man ‘Brett’ after the well-known sexual offender controversy surrounding Brett Kavanaugh. She weaves these stories flawlessly, each of them relevant and they examine the horrific abuse of power men held/hold over women when accusing them of magic to punish them. These historical parallels show how men in positions of power are allowed to abuse victims and have the safety net of masculine and religious support to prevent them being prosecuted. What is even more distressing is that McCullough’s father, also a pastor, was complicit in her abuse. Although both her and her sister told him about the grooming and sexual assaults, he was unwilling to support their stories, believing it would put his own position at the church at risk. This book made me so angry, angry for Eve and her treatment, angry for the women and children who unfairly died at the hands of men, angry for the survivors of sexual assault. These stories are heartbreaking, enraging and informative. The verse language style works incredibly well, it softens the historical content into a format which is more accessible if you aren’t a history reader. I learned the stories of women such as Abigail Williams, Gurtrud Svensdotter and Geillis Duncan, women I was not familiar with but now respect their tragic stories. This book is a brilliant read, showing the damage that sexual assault causes to families and the long term effects of PTSD. The church and so many positions of power are responsible for so much hurt across the world, we can only hope that one day they will be rightly held accountable for their crimes and their support of molesters. Thank you so much to NetGalley for letting me read this brilliant book in return for an honest review. I'll defiantly be recommending it to others and buying a copy when it is published!
I may be too emotionally connected to this subject matter to be totally impartial here, but wow this was an incredible, genre bending memoir that I won't stop thinking about for quite some time.
I had never read any of Joy McCullough's other work, but immediately the cover pulled me in. I have a great love of Artemisia Gentileschi's work, and so the snippet of Judith slaying Holofernes had me completely entranced from the start. McCullough weaves in her devastating personal experience of sexual assault by her youth pastor and the fight for that to be acknowledged, with letters to women who were accused of and killed as witches. You wouldn't think those two things would be so easily interwoven, but McCullough has singled out a theme of young women not being believed about their experiences and women taking ownership over their bodies and directly tied it to her modern experience of being disbelieved and discredited by her community and even her father.
For anyone who has ever had ties to a high control religion, this is going to hit close to home. For any woman who has ever felt unable to tell her story for fear of being disbelieved, this is going to feel incredibly cathartic. And for any girl who is currently in a similar situation of grooming by someone who holds power over her, this offers a hopeful roadmap out.
I can't say enough good things about this book. I have recommended it to countless folks in my life already, and feel like it ought to be required reading. What a beautiful tribute to her younger self McCullough was able to create by honoring her own truth. I think this book could be even more poignant if read alongside How to Kill a Witch, Zoe Venditozzi and Claire Mitchell, for an even more thorough dive into some of the historical figures that McCullough highlights in her letters.
Thank you to Penguin Young Readers Group for an early copy of this incredible memoir in exchange for my honest thoughts.
4 1/2 stars A memoir told in verse of abuse at the hands of a trusted youth pastor that is sprinkled with historical notes of women through the ages who were mistreated by men, accused of witchcraft and killed. Joy grew up in a church family - her dad was a pastor, the whole family attended church regularly and Joy and her siblings were part of all the youth programs. Joy was a "good" girl, a chaste girl, an innocent who trusted a youth pastor to guide her into potentially following in her father's footsteps. He took advantage of that trust and his position to groom her and abuse her for years. She showed great courage years later to call him out and suffer the public shaming of her family and her church. Joy's lyrical prose allows the reader to take in this deeply personal and horrific narrative in a way that allows the reader to absorb it slowly to take in the full emotional effect. The inclusion of the so called witches' history is interesting and proves the point that while powerful men have always tried to do away with troublesome women they should not keep silent. Her writing is powerful but quietly empowers. I would recommend every woman read this young and old. My thanks to the publisher for the advance copy.
Such a raw and powerful memoir. McCullough shines a light on her teen years, when she was groomed and abused by her youth pastor. Most heartbreaking is the decision by her father, the senior pastor of their Presbyterian church, to turn a deaf ear to her and her older sister when they attempted to tell him the truth about his youth pastor. In recounting her experiences, McCullough addresses the ongoing nature of trauma (and her father’s admonition that “You can’t play the abuse card forever”). She goes into detail about the guilt she has carried, her rationalizations that she must have somehow encouraged the abuser’s attentions, her eventual understanding of consent and power dynamics and serial abusers and mandated reporters. Interwoven with her own story are letters to mostly-forgotten women from past centuries who were also silenced (and often put to death) when their truths threatened men’s power. Teens will appreciate her candor and her determination to not be silenced. The free-verse format allows readers to feel McCullough is in a close conversation with them.
Thanks to NetGalley and Dutton Books for the electronic ARC.
Joy McCullough’s brief memoir in verse, Suffer a Witch, packs a heavy punch. In it, McCullough details the years of sexual and emotional abuse she suffered at the hand of her youth pastor. The pastor, who she calls Brett, is a serial offender who was never held accountable for his actions.
In between the poetic descriptions of McCullough’s experiences, McCullough weaves the stories of women pronounced as witches throughout history and her identification with them.
McCullough’s story is heartbreaking and infuriating, made more so by the fact that her father, also a pastor, was complicit in the abuse she experienced. It seems he might have believed McCullough, but refused to confront or validate the claims because it might put his own position and reputation at risk.
Suffer a Witch is a story of trauma, women’s powerlessness in the face of a society that refuses to believe the victim, and also of moving forward with that trauma and grief.
Highly recommended. Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
The author's memoir follows her through her life as the daughter of a pastor, spiritual abuse at the hands of church leaders, and her battle for truth. Interspersed throughout, Joy McCullough tells the stories of both women accused of witchcraft throughout history, and those who made the accusations. I appreciated so much the historical context she provided. And the extensive research notes at the end (because I wanted to know more). Additionally, her commitment to sharing both those in power who abused her, and those with some level of religious authority who stood by her and continued to believe her through the onslaught of pushback shines. Those who've experienced grooming and sexual predation of minors walk a difficult line as they speak up about what happened to them. And Joy faces this challenge head on, heart ablaze.
As one who has especially appreciated her books Blood Water Paint and Kestrel Takes Flight, the insight into her writing around those books, and the way the stories impacted her especially connected with me.
Joy McCullough grew up in the Presbyterian church as a pastor's daughter. By the time she joined the youth group, she was all into God. And trained to obey adult authority. That's when her youth pastor began grooming her. Eventually, he r*ped and sexually assaulted her over the course of several years. This book is her memoir. In each chapter, the author shares a part of her story. The chapters also contain stories of witches - women who were accused of crimes and punished. Throughout history, men have wielded power over women - their bodies, their words, their stories. This book is an attempt to win back women's voices, stories, and lives. Reading this memoir has prompted me to reexamine my own past. I am also prompted to examine my attitudes toward women who say they have been sexually harassed and/or violated. It's too easy to dismiss their stories or blame them. Let's place the blame where it truly belongs and seek to discern the truth and believe women!
“We stand before the men in power and speak our truths even as they crush our joints.”
I was completely destroyed by Joy’s memoir and the way she incorporated the history of the women that came before us. When I tell you my hand was covering my mouth in distress for the majority of the book, I am not exaggerating in any way. Joy lived a life that so many women live and her voice was silenced time and time again. She walked a path straight to abuse that was forged by someone that was supposed to be a figure of support, guidance, and trust. She was failed to be protected by those around her and when her voice was able to reach the point where it was able to resound with all of her truths, those around her managed to failed her yet again.
While hard to read at times because of the very traumatic subject matter, this book is revolutionary and an absolute must read.
Thank you to NetGalley for the advance copy and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Suffer a Witch is a heartbreaking memoir told in prose. Upon first reading, I was afraid that the writing style would feel inaccessible as somebody who doesn’t frequently read poetry, but it was pretty simple to follow. It was really only hard to read because the triggering content.
This memoir follows a woman with PTSD after being groomed and sexually abused by a youth pastor. Despite it being a relatively quick read, I had to read it in multiple sittings because it was so unsettling. It is well-written and an important read, but it is not something that I could ever read again. This is why I hesitate to give it five stars, as I tend to only give five stars to books that I plan to re-read. For most readers, I would recommend grabbing a copy from the library rather than owning it, and, before reading, I would recommend anybody with PTSD to search content warnings. Thank you to Netgalley for providing a free ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Joy McCullough does not MISS. This was so lovely and compelling and hard to read (in a moving way). I appreciated her talking about her journey toward writing Blood Water Paint and how she's clearly been spending her whole career trying to get to a point where she could write this book. And like in some of her other work I really loved (and hated because OUCH) reading the historical parallels she excels in drawing, showing the long long global history of PATRIARCHY.
A really powerful book! She is so brave for writing it and I hate that she has to be so brave and I love that this book will be available for teens to read soon.
Also I enjoyed the addition of her editor's notes in parts, as Joy is surprised to learn what parts of her evangelical upbringing were incomprehensible to him.
This isn't the kind of book you enjoy reading, but it's one you love, one you think about and hold onto. It's not fun, but it makes you feel something and connects you to the collective rage that binds women together.
This searing memoir is told through poetry and long-form verse, recounting the horrifying accounts of the authors own history, the sexual abuse the church inflicted upon her, the religious indoctrination, and the challenges of surviving it all. She invokes the names of women who have been villainised throughout history, like Dorothy Good and Joan of Arc, with poetic letters reaching through time to speak to them about their own persecution. The writing flows beautifully, moving between streams of consciousness to structured sections - quite simply, it felt like someone spilling their heart on a page and it worked. The style may not always be the easiest to read, whether that's the content or the changing writing, but it's still an undeniable beautiful, vital book.
"Suffer a Witch" is hard but important reading about sexual abuse in the church and the ways in which women are blamed, punished, and made to suffer for the sins and abuses of men in authority.
Heavy trigger warning for child sexual abuse and PTSD, execution/death, witchcraft trials, rape, pregnancy and trauma.
The worst part is that the predators are getting away with it, here and now, across churches everywhere, because church leadership does not care to listen to the voices of survivors. Fathers often do not care, pastors do not care, and church boards and supposed impartial reviews and investigations certainly do not care.
A must-read for anyone examining church patriarchy, misogyny, and the enabling of abuse. The way historical accounts of women involved in witch trials are woven into the poetic memoir form is beautiful and tragic. Thanks to Netgalley for the e-arc; all opinions are my own.
McCullough's words are searing. She will not be silenced by the men in her life who tried to continually abuse her or continued the abuse by ignoring what happened to her like her father, a man of the cloth, whose youth pastor sexually abused McCullough for years but as she grew up and shared the story essentially told her to stop and in his own memoir, never addressed the issue about his daughters.
This verse novel interspersed with profiles of women from history who suffered abuse at the hands of men including Artemesia who was the voice for her in her debut play turned novel bolster her story about what it was like to be groomed as a teen by this man who was married with children and how the anger bubbled up and continues to frustrate her yet how she also learned to move on by giving words her power to take back.
Important just like others like Anderson's Shout and Miller's Say My Name.
Please read with caution. This book is very dark and describes abuse. Although this book is educational and contains historical reflections, even those accounts are traumatic. There is a religious context as well. This is a very hard read (emotionally damaging). The author has a long list of triggers that are part of her and her family's everyday life. I am haunted by the implications of the last quarter of the book. Thank you, NetGalley, for the ARC. I am nervous that this is a penguin youth book. As a school librarian, I can not see my students reading on this level. The vocabulary is definitely SAT worthy. My students are intelligent, but even I had to look up some of the terms in the historical excerpts. I wanted to give this book a 3.5 because it made me call my dad to thank him, but also made me so messed up and unable to sleep for worry for my students who love and trust so easily.
This is one of those books that I simultaneously couldn’t put down, and had to keep taking breaks from reading. A searingly honest, painful memoir that recounts the author’s years of abuse at the hands of a youth pastor, as well as the author’s ongoing attempts to report the crimes committed against her while being repeatedly ignored. Interspersed between the memoir poems are letters to women and girls who were sentenced in witch trials or the accusers themselves, drawing a poignant line between historical and modern abuses enacted against women by men in power. The book seethes with righteous anger, the kind that burns to make things better for women and girls everywhere, and while the ending is (as memoirs so often are) bittersweet, it is also an encouragement for women to claim their own power even when doing so worries powerful men. A truly remarkable read.
I requested this ARC (thanks NetGalley and Penguin Young Readers Group) not even realizing it was written entirely in verse. Upon discovering this I very nearly DNFd because poetry just isn’t my favorite medium, and I didn’t want to rate this book unfairly.
I am so glad I gave it a chance.
This was not stuffy prose, or a super tight meter that interferes with the reading of the story. It is simply lyrical prose that introduces a pause here, and a detour there, to share traumatic experiences in a way that feels deeply human and deeply personal.
Even knowing this falls under a young reader imprint, this feels like crucial writing for any woman who has ever felt like typical narratives around sexual abuse feel either too sterile or too dramatized, and want to read a reflection that rings true, while carrying a sliver of hope, and a reminder of our power.
when I was 22 pages in, I knew this would be one of my all time favorite books and it still surpassed my expectations. there are no words I could write here to fully do this book, this story, these women justice. the prose is beautiful, the way it flows, the way she weaves her own story with those of women thorughout time that have been tried and found guility by 'men of God', reflecting on her experience through theirs. it’s powerful and deeply affecting. thank you for portraying so clearly, for everyone to experience, what it means to live with sexual trauma, the emotions, the life after. thank you for writing this book.
a genuine thank you to penguin random house and netgalley for the honor of receiving this eARC.
** A copy of Suffer a Witch was provided by the publisher and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. **
Suffer A Witch cements Joy McCullough’s place in feminist literature. Having read and loved her previous novels in verse (Blood Water Paint; We are the Ashes, We are the Fire; Enter the Body; Everything is Poison), I knew I could expect a powerful, unflinching, caring and explicitly feminist look at sexual violence. Suffer a Witch is a deeply necessary, honest and raw memoir that delves into violence, religion, memory, trauma and resilience. I highly recommend it!
Side note: I loved the full-circle moment with the cover being inspired by a painting by Artemisia Gentileschi!
This memoir is so powerful, heartbreaking, infuriating and raw. The author shares her story of grooming and sexual abuse by her youth pastor - and how her father, also a pastor, completely dismisses this (which has allowed this youth pastor to continue serving well into today). In between her details of this multi-year assault, McCullough writes letters to other women who also suffered immensely at the hands of men, and ignored by their communities. The result is visceral reflection of many women's common story. This is a must-read, must-discuss book for all.
Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton Books for Young Readers for an advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.
I am so glad that so many women have had the courage to come forward and tell their stories about the detrimental effects of purity culture and the evangelical movement of the 90s, and to speak out about the men who used their authority in the church to take advantage of girls and women. McCullough is angry, and rightfully so, but she isn't just angry on her own behalf--she's angry on behalf of all the girls and women throughout history who have been (and continue to be) abused and taken advantage of.
I’m torn on this one. I don’t think I’ve read anything this raw in a very long time. This couldn’t be taught to an entire classroom. Could not. Couldn’t be left on a shelf to fall into potentially uncaring hands. But, this book could be saved for a student who needs it, for a young woman facing sexual abuse trauma, religious trauma, or for a young man who loves her. So much pain on these pages, and the losses of a million other survivors, it overwhelms me. I’m giving it a three, just to let other educators know to proceed carefully.
Suffer a Witch is hard -- and ESSENTIAL -- reading. McCullough is courage incarnate for telling her truth and refusing to be silenced despite every obstacle that's been stacked in front of her. Her rage, her suffering, her grief, her resilience, and that of every other woman/witch who came before blaze from every page.
A friend once sent me a postcard during a time of intense trial that reads, "They cannot burn us. We were made from fire."
McCullough embodies this quote. I am grateful to have had the early opportunity to read her vital work.