As you may have noticed from the other reviews, this book is not a retelling of a serial killer’s crimes, how he did them, how he got away for so long, and eventually, how he got caught. This is much more about a (platonic) relationship between journalist and killer.
Rowe is a journalist who becomes obsessed with Kendall, a convicted serial killer of eight women, and at times, reading about this deep fascination gets a little uncomfortable. Openly admitting that she feels a sense of importance and flattery at having so much on Kendall’s attention seems pretty disgusting, but she then admits that she now knows these feelings were inappropriate and has come to realise that her obsession got the better of her.
I have to agree with other reviews, that this book is a little all over the place. Rowe’s writing is absolutely gorgeously put all the way through, it’s really poetic, it’s just that the structure is a bit off. Topics skip all over the place and it can sometimes be hard to grasp how one thing connects to the next.
In the end, I actually really enjoyed this novel even though it wasn’t a classic true crime kinda novel. It was interesting seeing the correspondence between the two of them and getting the feel for how someone like Kendall works in a different way to us. I’m not really interested to read all about the Attica riots, so that will be a new addition to my bookshelf soon, I’m sure!
If you like going through a true crime novel finding out what the killer did in chronological order, what drove them to do it and some of the more gruesome details of their crimes, then this probably isn’t the novel for you, but if you like something a little more personal and moving I would recommend giving this one a try.
Thanks to the publisher for sending me a free copy in exchange for a review!