Susan Wiggs is the author of the new novel Wayward Girls. Her many other books include The Lost and Found Bookshop. She lives on an island in Washington State's Puget Sound.
Q: What inspired you to write Wayward Girls, and how did you create your character Mairin?
A: I grew up in a small town in western New York, not far from Buffalo, but we moved overseas when I was a child. I never went back until 2021, when my big brother and I embarked on a journey to revisit our childhood haunts. Jon was facing a terminal diagnosis, and this nostalgic trip was an item on his bucket list.
When we visited the church of our youth, vivid memories of Jon as an altar boy flooded back—especially the time his sleeve caught fire from the incense thurible. You might notice a dramatized version of this incident early in the novel!
This moment sparked a deeper exploration into the impact of the Catholic Church in the ‘60s and ‘70s. My research led me to a forbidding stone complex at 485 Best Street in Buffalo that had once been a place called The Good Shepherd, a Magdalene Laundry—a place where “wayward girls” were sent to be “reformed” by strict nuns.
Teenage girls were forced into slave labor and some delivered babies without proper medical care–babies that were stolen from them and put up for adoption. Though vaguely aware of the “laundries” in Ireland, I was shocked to learn they existed throughout the U.S. as well.
The main character, Mairin O’Hara, is a composite of women I read about and interviewed for the book. She’s of Irish descent, and one of the reasons she ended up at the Good Shepherd is that her strict Irish mother was too steeped in trauma and tradition to see the damage done by the institution.
But like all my favorite characters, Mairin is plucky, defiant, clever, and big-hearted—and she’s a survivor. I hope the story does honor to the girls who truly suffered at the hands of the church and its institutions.
Q: How did you research the novel, and what did you learn that especially
surprised you?
A: I started at the public library, which is where nearly every book I’ve ever written starts. Without the library, I’d be lost! And remember, librarians don’t all work at the library. One of the most helpful people I interviewed was the librarian at the Buffalo Historical Society. She helped me reconstruct the city’s neighborhoods of 1968.
I also accessed a survivor group on Facebook and interviewed or listened to interviews with survivors of the laundries, the lawyer who is advocating for the survivors today (they’re in their 70s and 80s), and I read an amazing memoir, Girl in the Tunnel, by Maureen Sullivan. Her experience occurred in Ireland, but there are a lot of parallels to the situation in the U.S.
For me, the biggest surprise (and outrage) was the general acceptance and complacency the authorities (courts, social agencies) had when it came to church institutions. Hiding behind the cloak of organized Catholicism, the laundries engaged in many forms of abuse, some so severe I could not even include them in the book.
Q: You tell much of the story from Mairin’s perspective, but you also bring in a variety of other characters’ voices. Why did you choose to structure the book that way?
A: I wanted my cast of characters to reflect the diversity of girls who were sent to the Good Shepherd.
Each character is fairly typical of the type of girl who might have wound up there—Mairin, whose mother believed it was the best way to shield her from her stepfather.
Angela, whose Irish grandmother believed the nuns would “reform” her attraction to girls.
Odessa, caught up in a historically factual race riot in 1967 in Buffalo.
Helen, whose Chinese American parents were detained in China due to the Cultural Revolution under the Chinese Communist Party.
Denise, who was lost in the foster care system.
Janice, Kay, and Sister Bernadette are also important characters, but I don’t want to spoil the story too much.
The story is one of female friendship and empowerment, so the girls in the story were my “team” that discovers their true strength and power comes from learning their own value and cooperating in a stunningly bold move to survive.
Q: What do you hope readers take away from the novel, and how do you see its themes resonating today?
A: As a child in 1968, I remember more than one babysitter who “went away,” a euphemism for girls sent into hiding when they became pregnant. The more I learned, the more deeply I felt the helpless pain and rage of these young women.
Wayward Girls is one of my most personal and involving novels to date. I hope my passion for this topic touches readers’ hearts and inspires important conversations about our past treatment of young women, and–as Jodi Picoult points out–is a cautionary tale for today.
Because, sadly, we have found ourselves in a new era of toxic patriarchy, with women’s rights being taken away by an authoritarian regime that justifies its actions by citing Christian rhetoric.
That said, Wayward Girls is at its heart a Susan Wiggs book, the kind that keeps the reader entertained and makes its way to an ending that is filled with hope. Along with the anger and frustration, you’ll find laughter and tears, and ultimately, the deep satisfaction of reading about a life well lived.
Q: What are you working on now?
A: I always have stories circling around in my head like air traffic over a busy airport! I’m researching a novel that takes place in Washington, D.C., during WWII, revising another that takes place in contemporary D.C., and I’m working with one of my best writer friends on our first screenplay.
Q: Anything else we should know?
A: When I published my first novel in 1987 (!!!), I came to understand that, although the writer labors alone while creating the work, her success depends entirely on a vital partner in the creative process—the reader. Because a story only comes to life once it makes its way into the reader’s hands. She brings her own experience, taste, and experience to the story, completing the circle.
I can’t begin to describe the sense of validation that comes from knowing my book has been selected by a reader browsing in the bookstore or library. It’s humbling to know someone has chosen my novel from the overwhelming flood of titles, and given her precious time to reading my story.
When a reviewer, blogger, podcaster, or reader recommends a book, it stands out. A personal word-of-mouth endorsement carries more weight than a hundred algorithm-driven recommendations. I want readers to know how grateful I am for the word-of-mouth recommendations that have sustained me for book after book. It’s a gift beyond measure.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb. Here's a previous Q&A with Susan Wiggs.
