On Sundays She Picked Flowers
“A ferociously talented writer. Scholfield writes with insight, beauty, and the wildness of real art.” —Victor LaValle
In this sinister and surreal Southern Gothic debut, a woman escapes into the uncanny woods of southern Georgia and must contend with ghosts, haints, and most dangerous of all, the truth about herself.
When Judith Rice fled her childhood home, she thought she’d severed her abusive mother’s hold on her. She didn’t have a plan or destination, just a desperate need to escape. Drawn to the forests of southern Georgia, Jude finds shelter in a house as haunted by its violent history as she is by her own.
Jude embraces the eccentricities of the dilapidated house, soothing its ghosts and haints, honoring its blood-soaked land. And over the next thirteen years, Jude blossoms from her bitter beginnings into a wisewoman, a healer.
But her hard-won peace is threatened when an enigmatic woman shows up on her doorstep. The woman is beautiful but unsettling, captivating but uncanny. Ensnared by her desire for this stranger, Jude is caught off guard by brutal urges suddenly simmering beneath her skin. As the woman stirs up memories of her escape years ago, Jude must confront the calls of violence rooted in her bloodline.
Haunting and thought-provoking, On Sunday She Picked Flowers explores retribution, family trauma, and the power of building oneself back up after breaking down.
“One of the most visceral, intense, brutal, and yet honest, works of horror I have read in a long time.” —P. Djèlí Clark
“Scholfield tells a story that’s as haunting as it is cathartic, as beautiful as it is devastating.” —Arts Atlanta
In this sinister and surreal Southern Gothic debut, a woman escapes into the uncanny woods of southern Georgia and must contend with ghosts, haints, and most dangerous of all, the truth about herself.
When Judith Rice fled her childhood home, she thought she’d severed her abusive mother’s hold on her. She didn’t have a plan or destination, just a desperate need to escape. Drawn to the forests of southern Georgia, Jude finds shelter in a house as haunted by its violent history as she is by her own.
Jude embraces the eccentricities of the dilapidated house, soothing its ghosts and haints, honoring its blood-soaked land. And over the next thirteen years, Jude blossoms from her bitter beginnings into a wisewoman, a healer.
But her hard-won peace is threatened when an enigmatic woman shows up on her doorstep. The woman is beautiful but unsettling, captivating but uncanny. Ensnared by her desire for this stranger, Jude is caught off guard by brutal urges suddenly simmering beneath her skin. As the woman stirs up memories of her escape years ago, Jude must confront the calls of violence rooted in her bloodline.
Haunting and thought-provoking, On Sunday She Picked Flowers explores retribution, family trauma, and the power of building oneself back up after breaking down.
“One of the most visceral, intense, brutal, and yet honest, works of horror I have read in a long time.” —P. Djèlí Clark
“Scholfield tells a story that’s as haunting as it is cathartic, as beautiful as it is devastating.” —Arts Atlanta
BUY THE BOOK
Join a book club that is reading On Sundays She Picked Flowers!
Community Reviews
If "This Is How You Lose the Time War" was a story that was a confectionary delight blending bittersweet dark chocolate and the light fruitiness of a fresh raspberry, "On Sundays She Picked Flowers" is a cup of coffee brewed with the strongest, freshest Robusta beans that makes its presence known the second it slips past your lips and down your throat. The aforementioned beans are the same type of bean used in Vietnamese coffee, might I add! Both the strongest and best coffee I've ever had in my life, and I'm not even being biased.
Once I picked this book up, I couldn't put it down. I'm currently taking a course called Environmental Literature as part of my English degree. The Okefenokee swamp where Judith Rice spends so many years making her home reads like a character of its own to me, alongside Candle. I found myself getting lost within its trees and waters alongside her, fearing it in the tense moments and appreciating the beauty, protection, and humility it provides in other moments. I've always wanted to visit the Southern U.S., having spent most of my life in the very center of the country. It was only in the past summer that I started traveling more, and am now going to college states away. The South is rich in culture that I believe everyone should try to understand and explore respectfully.
Generational trauma doesn't even come close to describing the Rice family secrets. The sad truth is that I doubt that similar cases that this book discusses are rare and few in between. In fact, I'd take a guess and say that most Black families know of such tragedies in their history that Judith also navigates and must reckon with. There is criticism of protecting abusers and how religion, specifically Protestantism, has been weaponized as a tool against the enslaved and leading to internal damage for the future generations. Aunt Phyllis expresses remorse towards the end of the book, wishing she had the bravery to do what Judith did in order to survive. Hurt breeds hurt, and the choice will never be easy. Judith is haunted for the majority of the book, and it's a central conflict throughout her arc. Once she contends with the ugly truth does she begin to actually heal. Running away from the Westmoor house was the start of her finding freedom. Even finding solitary respite in the swamp is only a crutch. I enjoyed how this book portrayed healing in all its forms. It truly isn't linear, and that saying can't get clearer than what the author captured here.
Oh, don't even get me started on the relationship between Judith and Nemoira! They're so perfectly imperfect. Toxic for each other, sure, but certainly not boring in the slightest. Their relationship is gritty, grim, and isn't a pill to be swallowed or easily digested for anyone but them, and to that, I say, "YES! More of that!"
Women should be allowed to be morally complex and messy. The last conversation we see between them was the perfect payoff for all of the hurt that they went through before this. I like sapphic stories that end happily despite trials and tribulations because they are so rarely shown. Thank you Yah-Yah Scholfield.
See why thousands of readers are using Bookclubs to stay connected.