Witchcraft for Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix – A feminist horror that fumbles the landing

I stopped reading books by straight white men a few years ago, but somehow, this one slipped through—and at first, I thought it might just prove me wrong.

I’ve made a conscious effort in recent years to diversify my reading list, moving away from the straight white male authors that had dominated my bookshelves for so long. It wasn’t until I pulled this book from the stack that was my last library haul that I realized Witchcraft for Wayward Girls was written by a white man. My knee-jerk reaction was to put it down, but it was my only unread book on hand, so I decided to give it a chance.

And at first? I was all in.

The premise is a horror lover’s dream—young women trapped in a cruel system, discovering an ancient source of power, using it to turn the tables on their oppressors. Hendrix sets the stage in 1970s Florida, in a home for unwed mothers where pregnant teens are hidden away and controlled by a strict, unforgiving system. When Fern, our protagonist, meets a librarian who introduces her to a book on witchcraft, the girls finally begin to gain agency over their lives. I absolutely loved the metaphor at play here—the librarian as a literal and figurative guide to knowledge, breaking through oppressive systems to show these girls a way forward. It’s a perfect critique of censorship and the ways in which powerful institutions try to control what knowledge is accessible.

The first half of the book is a rush. Watching the girls learn spellwork and fight back against those who dismissed and mistreated them was deeply satisfying. One moment that stood out was when they turned Zinnia’s morning sickness against the doctor who told her it was all in her head. Like any other person who has ever been pregnant, I wanted to cheer. And when they enacted revenge on their cruel matron, Miss Wellwood, I didn’t think they went far enough—some characters definitely got off too easy (cough Diane cough). I was rooting for Fern and friends the entire way.

But then, about halfway through, something shifted. It was as if Hendrix himself became afraid of the power he had given these girls. Suddenly, the novel’s tone veered sharply into witchcraft is bad territory. What started as a powerful reclamation of agency became a morality tale, warning against the dangers of women wielding power. The librarian—once a symbol of knowledge and resistance—was deconstructed and repackaged as something to be feared, reinforcing the same patriarchal messaging that the first half of the book seemed determined to challenge.

By the end, Fern never fully claims her own power. Even in her fifties, she seems stuck in a loop of justifying her existence rather than truly owning it. Yes, she has more agency than she did as a pregnant teenager, but her character arc never reaches the level of empowerment that the novel initially promised.

Ultimately, Witchcraft for Wayward Girls starts strong but falters under the weight of its own messaging. If it had fully embraced its feminist horror roots instead of pulling a last-minute reversal, it could have been a brilliant, subversive piece of work. Instead, it left me frustrated and disappointed.

Final Verdict: A compelling premise with a killer first half, but its ultimate message felt like a betrayal. If you love feminist horror, be prepared for a letdown by the end.

What did you think? Did you love it, or did the ending leave you cold like it did for me? Let’s talk in the comments!

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