I’m not usually a fan of annotating books. It hurts my soul a bit to write on the pages. However, there are some times when I feel compelled to underline certain phrases or make notes in the margins of a book that I’m especially connected to. Suffer a Witch by Joy McCullough was one of those books for me. Part memoir, but told in verse, this book inspired so many emotions in me that I needed to get them on the page while I was devouring the text.

McCullough’s story is, unfortunately, all too familiar. As a child raised in a Christian church, she was abused by a person who knew that she would be too ashamed of what was happening to report it. Assaulted by the youth pastor (who had been hired by her father) for several years, McCullough’s story is tragic and heartwrenching. But then she takes her experiences and weaves them into poetry. With just a few dozen words on each page, every moment of McCullough’s story is powerful.

At first glance, I would have related to McCullough’s trauma, and would have found this book to be a moving account of her abuse and healing. But Suffer a Witch transforms into something else entirely, because McCullough has chosen to intersperse her story with letters she’s written to famous accused witches in history. By comparing her story with the Salem witches or historical women I hadn’t even heard of, McCullough is able to create a tragic thread throughout history of women being subjugated, abused, and wrongfully maligned. The true feminine rage and ferocious energy electrifies every page, and manifests a book that means so much more to me than a traditional memoir ever could. Even the cover has a creative meaning that ties the entire book together in such a brilliant way.

There is so much to be angry about when you read McCullough’s story, and the accounts of other women who have been brutalized over the course of history. But Suffer a Witch also made me feel incredibly hopeful in an odd way. It made me believe that other victims can find ways to tell their own stories in a way that feels authentic and unique, and perhaps, the greatest sign of strength in someone is their ability to use their own tragedy to help someone else.

I’ve already added several of McCullough’s other books to my TBR, and I can’t wait to dive into her writing even more. I’m grateful that she has been so open and honest with her story, and that she was brave enough to put it on paper. Hopefully, it will inspire other women to get angrier, because we have so many years of suffering in silence to make up for.

*5 stars

*Free ARC provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review