Susan Wiggs Shares the Inspirations, Challenges, and Heartfelt Stories Behind Her Celebrated Novels

PHOTO: Susan Wiggs, celebrated international best-selling author, draws inspiration from her island home, rich personal memories, and a deep empathy for human experience.

Exploring Creativity, Courage, And Compassion Through Storytelling

Susan Wiggs discusses how island life, personal memories, and social issues inspire her novels, offering insights into character development, storytelling with sensitivity, and her journey from teacher to international best-selling author.

Susan Wiggs is a true master of storytelling, blending heart, history, and humanity into every page she writes. Her novels are celebrated for their rich emotional depth, vivid settings, and unforgettable characters who navigate love, loss, and the resilience of the human spirit. With a career spanning decades and millions of books sold worldwide, Susan’s work consistently reminds readers of the beauty found in ordinary lives touched by extraordinary moments. Her ability to illuminate social issues with grace and compassion, while crafting compelling, entertaining narratives, has earned her accolades from critics and fans alike.

In our conversation, Susan offers profound insights into her creative process, her connection to nature, and the inspirations behind her latest novel, Wayward Girls. With the same honesty and heart that characterize her fiction, she shares the experiences, memories, and passions that fuel her storytelling. It is an honor to present this interview with an author whose work continues to touch and inspire readers across generations and continents.

Susan Wiggs crafts unforgettable stories with emotional depth, vibrant characters, and compassionate storytelling that resonates powerfully with readers across the world.

How has your life on an island in Puget Sound influenced your writing?

The natural rhythms of island life create a perfect environment for creativity. There’s a certain tranquility that comes from being surrounded by water. This landscape seeps into my work constantly, from the misty mornings to the dramatic shorelines. There’s something about the isolation that allows for deeper contemplation, yet the close-knit community provides rich character inspiration. Island living forces you to slow down and notice details–the changing tides, the wildlife, the way light plays on water – and that mindfulness translates directly to more vivid, textured writing.

Can you share any memorable experiences from your time commuting in a motorboat to your writers’ group?

My boat commutes have provided a few adventurous moments! Ask my friend Sheila Roberts about the time I wound up in the water while trying to step from the dock to the boat while juggling manuscript pages. I learned to waterproof everything. Another time, a pod of orcas surfaced nearby, and it felt like a blessing from the deep. These journeys have taught me resilience and spontaneity, qualities that I try to imbue in my characters. There’s something deeply symbolic about physically crossing water to connect with other creative minds.

“Island living forces you to slow down and notice details—and that mindfulness translates directly to more vivid, textured writing.” — Susan Wiggs

What was the inspiration behind “Wayward Girls”?

Wayward Girls (HarperCollins/William Morrow Books 2025) is based on true events, and was inspired by something I’d term as a “recovered memory.” 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.

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. This moment sparked a deeper exploration into the impact of the Catholic Church in the 60s and 70s. My research led me to 485 Best Street in Buffalo, where I discovered a Magdalene Laundry—a place where “wayward girls” were sent to be “reformed” by strict nuns. Though vaguely aware of the laundries in Ireland, I was shocked to learn they existed throughout the U.S. as well.

As a child, I remember more than one babysitter who “went away,” a euphemism for girls sent away when they became pregnant. The more I learned, the more deeply I felt the helpless pain and rage of these young women. Their stories ignited my imagination, and Wayward Girls became one of my most personal and involving novels to date.

How do you approach writing about complex issues like domestic violence in your novels?

When tackling difficult subjects—institutional abuse, as in Wayward Girls, domestic and workplace violence as in The Oysterville Sewing Circle, or rape and recovery as in Sugar and Salt, research is absolutely essential. I spend time with survivors, counselors, and advocates to understand the nuances and avoid harmful stereotypes. These issues deserve to be approached with both honesty and sensitivity, never sensationalizing trauma, but not flinching from its reality either. I focus on showing the full humanity of characters experiencing abuse, not defining them solely by their victimization. Their strength, hope, and journey toward healing become central. Fiction offers a safe space for readers who might have personal connections to these issues to process their experiences through story, so I hold that responsibility with great care.

That said, I never, ever preach about a subject, because the job of the storyteller is to entertain, enlighten, and let the reader sink into the story. I know I’m on the right track when I hear from readers, which happens with every book, that my novel resonated with them, struck a chord, and sometimes—and most gratifyingly—moved them to take positive action on their own behalf.

What is your process for developing characters that readers find relatable and compelling?

Character development begins with finding that emotional core: What wound or desire drives this person? I ask myself endless “what if” questions until the person becomes very real to me. I create detailed backstories that might never appear directly in the novel but inform every decision the character makes. I write in their voices about everyday situations until I understand their unique perspectives. By the time I begin the actual novel, these people feel as real to me as friends, with their own distinctive voices, habits, and emotional landscapes. The key to relatability is vulnerability. The characters need flaws and struggles that readers recognize in themselves. Mairin, the main character in Wayward Girls, is irrepressible and exuberant, which leads to some bad decisions that make her not only vulnerable, but wildly entertaining.

“Wayward Girls became one of my most personal and involving novels to date.” — Susan Wiggs

How do you balance themes of family and romance with social issues in your storytelling?

Family dynamics, romantic relationships, and social issues are naturally intertwined. None exists in isolation. My novels depict individuals at the most intimate level—within relationships and family structures. The personal becomes political, and vice versa. Readers connect more deeply with larger societal problems when they see how they affect characters they’ve grown to care about. These emotional anchors that make exploring difficult subjects more accessible. I try to write with honesty and a delicate touch, allowing moments of joy, connection, and humor to dwell alongside serious themes, reflecting reflects the complexity of actual human experience.

What was it like to present programs for US Embassies in Buenos Aires and Montevideo?

The invitation from the cultural attache of the embassy in Buenos Aires was a career highlight. I was honored to attend the Feria del Libro—a two-week-long celebration of the book, which occurs annually in Argentina. Those embassy experiences were extraordinary opportunities to connect across cultures through storytelling. What struck me most was how universal certain emotional experiences are. Readers and students of writing in Argentina and Uruguay responded to the same challenges that American readers do. I remember a particularly moving discussion in Montevideo about how landscape shapes identity, something deeply relevant to both their culture and my island-influenced writing. The program involved workshops with local writers where we explored narrative techniques, but I think I learned more from them than they did from me! These cultural exchanges reminded me that while our specific circumstances may differ widely, our fundamental hopes, fears, and dreams transcend borders.

“Fiction offers a safe space for readers who might have personal connections to these issues to process their experiences through story.” — Susan Wiggs

Can you describe your journey from being a teacher to becoming an international best-selling author?

Actually, it was the other way around. I was a writer from the moment I put pencil to paper (around age 3), and became a teacher in order to fund my passion for writing. I wrote my early novels during summer breaks and in the evenings after grading papers, carving out whatever time I could find. Those days of balancing both careers taught me discipline and efficiency,  skills that serve me well now. The international success came as a complete surprise. I remember being astounded that readers at home and abroad might connect with my stories. There’s been tremendous privilege in this journey, but also tremendous work—countless rejections before acceptance, manuscripts that never saw publication, and the continuous challenge of improving my craft with each book.

How do you incorporate elements of nature and outdoor activities into your writing?

Nature functions almost as another character in my work. Living in the Pacific Northwest, I’m surrounded by extraordinary beauty that demands attention—mountains, forests, the ever-changing waters of Puget Sound. I incorporate specific sensory details from my own outdoor experiences: the particular scent of cedar trees warming in the sun, the way certain mushrooms appear after autumn rains, the sound of eagle calls echoing across water. I’m an avid kayaker, hiker, and gardener, and these activities give my characters authentic ways to interact with their environment. Nature often serves as a metaphor for emotional states in my writing – storms reflecting internal turmoil, tides representing life’s changes. I find that placing characters in natural settings strips away social pretenses and allows for moments of genuine revelation.

What advice would you give to aspiring authors looking to address difficult topics in their work?

To authors tackling difficult subjects, I’d first say: approach with both courage and humility. Do exhaustive research beyond just reading. Speak with people who have lived experiences with your topic, understand multiple perspectives. Be prepared to confront your own biases and assumptions. When writing, focus on the humanity of your characters rather than using trauma as merely a plot device. Find the hope and resilience within difficult stories. Readers need this balance to stay engaged with challenging material. Be prepared for criticism and listen when it comes, especially from communities represented in your work. Most importantly, ask yourself repeatedly why you’re drawn to this particular difficult topic and what truth you’re trying to illuminate. If your motivation comes from a place of genuine compassion and desire for understanding, that authenticity will resonate throughout your work.