Who is V.C. Andrews?

Virginia Cleo Andrews was an American novelist.

She is best known for her debut novel Flowers in the Attic which rose to international fame in 1979, after which she developed a cult following.

Andrews went on to write seven novels before dying of breast cancer in 1986.

Since her death over a hundred novels (of questionable quality) have been written under the "V.C. Andrews" name by a ghostwriter named Andrew Neidermann.

"Soap opera" gothic

V.C. Andrews had a reputation for writing books that might be considered "soap opera" gothic horror. Her books are considered by some as guilty-pleasure reads. Some consider her novels “trashy” or “titillating”, however many fans believe this is a mistaken judgment perpetuated by the reputation of her ghostwriter who churns out "Walmart discount bin" versions of her novels.

It is likely that misogyny also plays a part in her reputation, because her stories always feature an adolescent girl's first-person perspective as she grows up in a highly dysfunctional environment.

Her narrative style is easy-to-digest and has been described as fluffy. It's true that her writing is not Fine Literature™. It does not strive to be a high-brow type of artistry.

Andrews wrote about uncomfortable and disturbing topics, especially abusive family dynamics including incest and sexual abuse. She is considered by some to have provided realistic-feeling depictions of generational trauma, eloquently capturing maladapted psychologies.

Flowers in the Attic

Such wonderful children. Such a beautiful mother. Such a lovely house. Such endless terror!

It wasn't that she didn't love her children. She did. But there was a fortune at stake—a fortune that would assure their later happiness if she could keep the children a secret from her dying father. So she and her mother hid her darlings away in an unused attic. Just for a little while. But the brutal days swelled into agonizing years.

Now Cathy, Chris, and the twins wait in their cramped and helpless world, stirred by adult dreams, adult desires, served a meager sustenance by an angry, superstitious grandmother who knows that the Devil works in dark and devious ways. Sometimes he sends children to do his work—children who—one by one—must be destroyed....

Excerpt

The old woman turned her hard gaze on me, then on Christopher. “Now hear this,” she began like a drill sergeant, “it will be up to you two older children to keep the younger ones quiet, and you two will be responsible if they break even one of the rules I lay down. Keep this always in your minds: if your grandfather learns too soon you are up here, then he will throw all of you out without one red penny—after he has severely punished you for being alive! And you will keep this room clean, neat, tidy, and the bathroom, too, just as if no one lived here. And you will be quiet; you will not yell, or cry, or run about to pound on the ceilings below. When your mother and I leave this room tonight, I will close and lock the door behind me. For I will not have you roaming from room to room, and into the other sections of this house. Until the day your grandfather dies, you are here, but you don’t really exist.”

My Sweet Audrina

Audrina wanted to be as good as her sister. Her sister was so special, so perfect -- and dead. Now she will come face to face with the dangerous, terrifying secret that everyone knows. Everyone except... My Sweet Audrina.

Excerpt

I often went to bed feeling unhappy with my life, feeling an undercurrent that was pulling my feet from under me, and I was floundering, floundering, bound to sink and drown. It seemed I heard a voice whispering, telling me there were rivers to cross and places to go, but I’d never go anywhere. There were people to know and fun to have, but I wouldn’t experience any of that. I woke up and heard the tinkle of the whispering wind chimes telling me over and over that I belonged where I was, and here I would stay forevermore, and nothing I did would matter in the long run. Shivering, I hugged my arms over my thin chest. In my ears I heard Papa’s voice, saying over and over again, “This is where you belong, safe with Papa, safe in your home.”

Heaven

Of all the folks in the mountain shacks, the Casteels were the lowest -- the scum of the hills. Heaven Leigh Casteel was the prettiest, smartest girl in the backwoods, despite her ragged clothes and dirty face...despite a father meaner than ten vipers...despite her weary stepmother, who worked her like a mule. For her brother Tom and the little ones, Heaven clung to her pride and her hopes. Someday they'd get away and show the world that they were decent, fine and talented -- worthy of love and respect. Then Heaven's stepmother ran off, and her wicked, greedy father had a scheme -- a vicious scheme that threatened to destroy the precious dream of Heaven and the children forever!

Excerpt

[Pa] didn’t come home for an entire week. I sat on the porch steps late one night and stared at the grim, stormy sky. Sour thoughts made me miserable. There had to be a better place than here for me. Somewhere, a better place. An owl hooted, followed by the howl of a roaming wolf. The night held a thousand sounds. The autumn wind from the north shrieked and whistled around the forest trees, whipped around the trembling cabin and tried to blow it away, but all the people huddled close together for warmth held the house down, or so I thought.