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A Decade Reading V.C. Andrews
It starts with a gift, the passing down of a sacred text: the V.C. Andrews novel complete with dramatic stepback cover. A helpless teenage girl stares through the opening and into your soul. She’s surrounded by a disapproving grandmother or step-mother, perhaps even an angry sibling or lover (sometimes both).
The book comes from a slightly older friend or a cool aunt, perhaps with the hushed whisper of how “crazy” the book is. As you ready, you slowly begin to realize that this is a secret to guard, one you must keep close to your chest.
For me, that first book was Dawn. As part of the Cutler series, the book was pretty unpopular. In fact, it’s probably one of the most frustrating series of books written under the author’s name. And yet, it was the most scandalous thing I’d ever read at 12 years old. Up to that point, I had no idea that people wrote about sex, that it was even allowed. It opened my eyes, and I never looked back.
After I read Dawn, I couldn’t turn back. Without access to Amazon, I scoured local thrift stores, looking for those stepback covers. My dad joined my mission, and he would come home from the thrift store with clear bags full of the books somebody had been so kind to package in complete series sets.
Looking back, it’s easy to see that the dark storylines, Gothic elements, and weird romance…
