I suspect many of you are like me. You curl up into your sweatpants, glass of wine in hand and watch...Dateline. I’ve always been like this. Obsessed with true crime and the awfulness of humanity. I’m not sure why I’m like this, but I’m willing to bet it has to do with my own anxieties. Don’t get me wrong - I DO NOT like or condone murder, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t intrigue me (sips wine).
I won a free copy of this true crime book (anticipated pub date December 29), and I knew I wanted to read it immediately. The story follows the tragic death of Mary Yoder, a sixty-something health nut who one day falls incredibly ill, is hospitalized, and dies. It becomes apparent that Mary was most definitely poisoned, but by who? Was it the husband? The son? Or his girlfriend?
The issue I had with this book is that the author is so CLEARLY adamant that the killer is the killer from the get go. There is no lead up for the reader or any examination of any other suspect. And, although I think the evidence definitely points to the right killer, I just was very bored reading this because there is absolutely no mystery to it. In fact, I was straight up annoyed that the author did not delve more into the killer’s motives. And then, the whole last chapter is basically the author explaining how much he disliked the killer. I get it dude, that person sucks big time, but I didn’t come here for your *very important hot take.”
I’ve read/watched/podcasted through so many true crime stories, and this one was told in a way that felt a bit flat. I will say this though, Mary Yoder deserved many more years of life and a peaceful end. She didn’t get that, and I think that is so tragically sad. That’s the thing about true crime - we have to acknowledge that these stories happened to real people. They aren’t stories to entertain us, but to inform us.
I won a free copy of this true crime book (anticipated pub date December 29), and I knew I wanted to read it immediately. The story follows the tragic death of Mary Yoder, a sixty-something health nut who one day falls incredibly ill, is hospitalized, and dies. It becomes apparent that Mary was most definitely poisoned, but by who? Was it the husband? The son? Or his girlfriend?
The issue I had with this book is that the author is so CLEARLY adamant that the killer is the killer from the get go. There is no lead up for the reader or any examination of any other suspect. And, although I think the evidence definitely points to the right killer, I just was very bored reading this because there is absolutely no mystery to it. In fact, I was straight up annoyed that the author did not delve more into the killer’s motives. And then, the whole last chapter is basically the author explaining how much he disliked the killer. I get it dude, that person sucks big time, but I didn’t come here for your *very important hot take.”
I’ve read/watched/podcasted through so many true crime stories, and this one was told in a way that felt a bit flat. I will say this though, Mary Yoder deserved many more years of life and a peaceful end. She didn’t get that, and I think that is so tragically sad. That’s the thing about true crime - we have to acknowledge that these stories happened to real people. They aren’t stories to entertain us, but to inform us.