There has been a push in the world of true crime to shift focus from the perpetrator and their crimes, to the victims and their stories, and this book is no exception. The descriptions of the crimes, facilitated by the harmful indifference of law enforcement, are grisly but brief, opting more for an exploration of a buoyant queer community in 1980's New York as it faced waves of renewed discrimination in the wake of the AIDs epidemic. My heart broke for these victims, and I smirked with recognition listening to each of their stories. I left this book feeling enriched and educated by the trials and resilience of my forebears, as well as a renewed desire to keep their stories alive.
I read this for research (no, I don't want to fake my own death) but now I could totally fake my own death. If you've ever wanted to know more, or anything, about the hidden underworld of pseudocide, Playing Dead is a great place to start! Greenwood, loaded with student loan debt herself, investigates what it takes to leave everything behind for a new life.
This book takes a long look at Hammarskjöld's career, the geopolitical conflicts he was navigating in the Congo during the Cold War, and the motives of individuals and organizations who had the most at stake — all in an attempt to solve the decades-long mystery of the UN Secretary General's death.
The urgency and detail with which Somaiya accounts the events leading up to the plane crash and the evidence revealed in the nearly 50 years since is engrossing. I haven't stopped thinking about it!
I like to start each new year with an old favorite and this year I reread In Cold Blood. Truman Capote may be lauded as the father of true crime, but In Cold Blood reads more like a what-not-to-do-when-writing-a-true-crime-book book. It's better read as a character study of the complicated individual that was Truman Capote and the choices that drew him into an intimate connection with a murderer. Capote was a complicated man and In Cold Blood only complicates him further.
If you've ever thought "huh, I've been meaning to read this..." then here's the universe giving you an extra nudge!
With the same refreshing honesty, wit, and fierce feminism that fans have come to love in their wildly successful podcast, Georgia and Karen present a blueprint for how to stay sexy and stay alive. From mental health to addiction; family, relationships, and loss, these autobiographical essays offer advice and commiseration without sacrificing self awareness and humor. Much of what makes their podcast so popular can be found in these pages-- perhaps most importantly, the gentle yet insistent reminder that we are not alone.
It was the time of the Great Depression and soon after Prohibition's end, when law-keeping was on shaky ground, when the line between cop and robber blurred and, for some, disappeared completely--a time when a good man might be killed over scarce and valuable . . . butter? Egan recounts the 1935 Spokane creamery robberies and the murder of Town Marshall George Conff--employing some novelistic techniques--then draws out the story to its fascinating resolution in 1989 when a number of the suspects and witnesses are still alive and still sitting tight on their secrets. Gripping, start to finish!
I am a horror reader with a wary interest in true crime. Hauntings and hellspawn are my bread and butter, but real life atrocities keep me up at night. This is a tactful victim-focused true crime book that doesn't linger on the lascivious details. Weinman's thesis is that the 1948 kidnapping case of 11-year-old Sally Horner serves as direct inspiration for Vladimir Nabokov's 1955 novel 'Lolita', a notion that Nabokov himself protested. For this reader, Weinman builds a strong case and exposes the dirty bones of what some consider Nabokov's masterpiece.
Infused with intimate stories of her devotion to true crime, McNamara's book rises above the usual shock and awe exploitation of the genre and weaves a narrative both riveting and chilling.