Exploring Women’s Strength in the Face of Adversity
Diane C. McPhail discusses the inspiration behind her historical novels, the challenges of researching overlooked histories, her unique writing process, and the transformative power of storytelling in shedding light on social justice and resilience.
Diane C. McPhail is a literary force whose historical novels weave forgotten narratives with deep human truths. An award-winning author, artist, therapist, and minister, she brings a rare depth of insight to her storytelling, unearthing the complexities of history through compelling, multi-dimensional characters. From The Abolitionist’s Daughter, which sheds light on the overlooked presence of Southern abolitionists, to The Seamstress of New Orleans, a novel set against the backdrop of the first all-female Mardi Gras krewe, McPhail’s works illuminate the struggles and resilience of women across time.
Her writing is shaped by a lifelong fascination with authenticity and the hidden depths of human nature. Inspired by personal history, extensive research, and a boundless curiosity for the untold, she masterfully balances historical accuracy with the emotional weight of fiction. With her latest novel in progress—set in 1700s France—McPhail continues to explore history’s intricate layers, revealing truths that resonate far beyond the past.
In this exclusive interview for Reader’s House Magazine, she shares the inspirations behind her novels, the challenges of uncovering forgotten histories, and the power of storytelling to transform our understanding of social justice and personal resilience.
What inspired you to write The Seamstress of New Orleans, and how did you come across the history of the first all-female Mardi Gras krewe?
When my agent asked about ideas for a second novel, I shared the story of a friend’s family secret. He replied, “Sounds like a murder mystery.” I didn’t write murder mysteries—but the idea took root. Could a death appear natural, accidental, suicidal, or truly a murder? Could such a death be possible in an open train vestibule, a brief feature of rail travel around 1900? The railroad line from Chicago to New Orleans was in high demand then, and the first all-female Mardi Gras krewe was making history with its grand ball. The ball itself is a captivating backdrop: women using Leap Year to challenge societal norms, pushing feminism toward the fight for suffrage. My novel follows two women—strangers—whose lives connect around the ball, until one stumbles upon a terrible secret.
How do your experiences as an artist, therapist, and minister influence your writing process and the themes you explore in your novels?
Perhaps my deepest interest in life and in my work is authenticity. My training across various disciplines has been an intriguing journey into the depths of human nature. The profound mystery of what lies beneath the appearance of things shapes my understanding of character and the complexities of relationships. Coupled with thorough research into little-known historical events, this approach often leads to unexpected and unforeseen discoveries, enriching both plot and perspective.
The Abolitionist’s Daughter sheds light on Southern abolitionists—what challenges did you face in researching and portraying this lesser-known aspect of Civil War history.
Southern abolitionism is largely overlooked—most people don’t even realize it existed. I grew up hearing stories of Webster County and the violence that took place there. What I didn’t know was that this was the story of my own great-grandmother. Her father, though he inherited slaves, was deeply opposed to slavery. Yet, by the mid-1800s, the legal complexities of free-state/slave-state conflict resulted in laws that made it impossible to emancipate enslaved people. Even educating them was a serious crime. Fortunately, I was able to access the original plantation papers and records in the archives of Mississippi State University, uncovering a deep connection to this hidden history.
Your novels often centre around strong female characters—what draws you to telling these stories of resilience and empowerment?
I am drawn to stories of strong, resilient women because they reflect both history and lived experience in a way that is often overlooked. Throughout time, women have navigated immense challenges—societal, personal, and political—yet their strength, intelligence, and perseverance have shaped history in profound ways.
For me, these stories are not just about empowerment; they are about authenticity. The women I write about are complex, flawed, and deeply human. They don’t seek strength for its own sake but find it through adversity, love, sacrifice, and an unwavering sense of purpose. I am fascinated by women history has forgotten—who defied expectations, fought private, unseen battles, and left their mark in ways that weren’t always recorded. These stories deserve to be told. They remind us that resilience is not just a trait but a legacy passed down through generations, shaping who we are today.
Can you share any insights into your writing routine and how you balance historical accuracy with storytelling?
I have no disciplined routine, but work from an inspired spontaneity. My family were storytellers. I grew up listening to stories told and retold—always discovering deeper meaning. By age five, I was an avid reader, captivated by the power of words to create worlds that took me beyond my own.
My first writing teacher, Madeleine L’Engle, affirmed what I had only dared to hope—that I was, indeed, a writer. In her book, Walking on Water: Reflections on Art and Faith, she suggests that our creative work knows more than we do, and our task is to follow the work where it leads. That idea transformed my approach to art and to writing.
Though I once dreaded memorizing dry historical facts, I love the deeply human stories buried beneath them. Such narratives, with their complexity and depth, pull me in and shape my writing. It is around verified history that I weave the fictional aspects of life that I cannot know—what was seen, felt, eaten, said in conversation. Often, it seems as though the story is telling itself to me, revealing truths I never expected.
What do you hope readers will take away from your books, particularly in relation to the themes of social justice and personal transformation?
One of the crucial things I have found in my research is how much of our history and our lives go unseen by the world at large. We tend to know the larger picture of social justice, what we might call the headlines, but there is so much more—the small, everyday actions of ordinary people who contribute to the great changes of history. If we pay careful attention to the details of history, we discover issues of social justice we may have never suspected. As we learn the details of suffering in works of historical fiction, we find ourselves feeling and suffering and struggling with those very real characters in a way that transforms our connection and empathy for fellow human beings living beside and around us.
