Carla

An incredible memoir of reckoning and of CPTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder, and high I also have). Mae is unflinchingly honest with her complicated feelings toward her parents and her siblings.

This book messed with my head in the best way. I say in my profile that I love books that overturn my apple cart. Apples everywhere on my path. I am actually a little creeped out, to be honest.

1. There was no kidnapping. I won't spoil it for you, but that poor baby was not kidnapped.

2. Lindbergh was this strange figure who could just approach anyone and tell them he was now working for/with them...and it was so. We should never give anyone that much power again. No education or qualifications, and he would be working on scientific or government projects because he wanted to. Insane.

3. Charles Lindbergh was not a good person at all. He was a controlling narcissist and a Nazi sympathizer.

4. Everything you have heard about this case–how the board from Bruno Hauptmann's attic perfectly matched the missing rung of the ladder, for instance–is wrong.

Trust me, this book is the definitive work on the case, written from all available case documents, including some that were private until given to the author, and it took eight years to research and write.

“He took my special away.”
—one of his many, many victims

I know what that feels like, I was near her age, 19, when I was violently sexually assaulted by my ex-boyfriend. Sister, I am 49 now, and I have it back, I promise. ♥️

This book is a must-read. Period. Nicole's reporting is incredibly professional and in-depth, and her reading is top-notch.

2 1/2 stars. Not enough detail. Too many mentions of Kelly Link throughout the book (“Kelly Link refers to this book as...” “Did you know Kelly Link was nominated for...?” Are the authors friends with her?)

And the offensive slights: One paragraph—and only one suggested book—for Joyce Carol Oates, who has written many, many horror and weird novels, and only two sentences dedicated to Lois Duncan, who wrote a long, long list of terrifying novels (I didn't sleep after reading Daughters of Eve or Down a Dark Hall) and introduced generations of kids and teenagers to the horror genre.
They tossed her in at the end of the paperback horror chapter after riffing on all the lurid Zebra books, and talking about who Ruby Jean Jensen might have been for pages, as an afterthought: yeah, you know, that Sarah Michelle Gellar movie, that was her book. She, and her decades of work that terrified millions of kids and brought them into reading horror, deserved much better than an afterthought.

And finally: the authors pull back from whether or not Amelia Edwards was gay, stating that she preferred to travel with female companions. I researched Amelia for an episode of my podcast about her, and Ellen Braysher was her partner and family.

This could have been so much more than it is. If you are really into this sort of thing, I recommend the Weird USA series. This is more of a surface-level travel book than a collection of information of fascinating facts about our astounding world.

This is the definitive book on this case. The author explores all avenues—mental health, foul play, the paranormal, the outside role of websleuths muddying the waters, and the corruption within the LAPD and the coroner's office—deftly and compassionately. He has a rich understanding of the role Elisa's bipolar disorder may have played, because he, too, struggles with it. He also is an incredibly skilled writer, and some sentences are just truly beautiful.

This book is a little too cheeky for my liking; I read about the paranormal to learn. It also tried too hard to debunk. In some cases, rather than just reporting. But it was still an enjoyable read, and not too dark, so it would be a good starter book for kids interested in high strangeness and weird history.

I was given this book by Wild Blue Press in exchange for an honest review.
This is fascinating, in that it was written by a local reporter that has been following this case for two decades. He really delves into the oddities surrounding whether or not Heather Wendorf knew about the murders, encouraged them (even casually, even unknowingly)—she's an interesting character. Turns out her older sister, Jennifer, is as well—her most damning statement on the stand...well, she wasn't even sure if Heather actually said it!
My only complaint is that there were no photographs included. So much about this case is appearance.

1 1/2 stars.

At times the author was unnecessarily and disrespectfully vulgar concerning the victims. There is no reason to say a child victim “shit herself” when she died. How about this? “The victim was so frightened that she defecated on herself during the rape.” It's still brutal to read about a child, but it's a more professional and respectful manner in which to describe the crime scene.

He also joined with the perpetrator once, in a disturbing way: a national expert on sex offenders who treated the defendant was testifying in court about the pornography the defendant had (that he was not supposed to have during treatment), and how it all depicted women looking young: ankle socks and shaved pubic hair. The author interjected with a rather gross aside about why some people prefer it “clean”. Excuse me?

Since the book ended before the conclusion of the case, here it is: https://web.archive.org/web/20170419013451/http://www.nydailynews.com/newswires/news/national/man-25-years-1979-case-missing-boy-etan-patz-article-1.3067605

I'm shocked. The civil case found Ramos guilty. Hernandez is schizophrenic, and delusions of sin are a symptom. Jim Clemente likened his confession to Carr's confession to killing JonBenet Ramsey. There seemed to be no motive or evidence, and this article also gives neither. Hernandez said he placed Etan in a box, strangled but still alive, on a curb with the trash. Everyone tore that street apart! That's impossible . I absolutely think Jose Ramos did it.

“Intellectual gymnastics” is what this book is about, and how they killed two people. This is a fine dissection of a personality disordered woman and her drawing into a foile à deux her boyfriend.

I finished this book wondering what I believed and what I didn't about what Elizabeth and Jens said over the years. Do I believe Elizabeth's British accent is fake? Absolutely. She grew up in Virginia, and only went to high school in the UK. A complete put-on. Do I believe Elizabeth's mother sexually abused her? No. Jens most likely took those nude photos of her and they planted them. Do I believe Jens was impotent until the murders, then hyperpotent? Perhaps.
What do I think about their obsessive, organized shoplifting? I think it was fetishized, sexualized control over others, hence the carefully labeled bags and not using the items.
I think one or both of them had hypergraphia, and that wasn't fully explored.

These are two of the most deeply disturbed teenagers/young adults I have come across, and I have a master's in counseling. Two personality disordered people in a perfect storm, and I still don't think we have the full story because Elizabeth is such a manipulative liar.

The one thing they didn't address is how satisfyingly similar Santino's voice is to actor Penn Badgley, who plays Joe in the miniseries You.

I think this subject matter (possible epidemic, possible problem with vaccine) was a little too on-the-nose to be enjoyable right now. There was also something...missing from this novel. Can't quite put my finger on it.

I wonder if the unusual name Deenie was a callback to the Judy Blume novel about scoliosis—disease and difference and mean girls?

Two things:

There is a splendid in-joke in this novel, a Lemonheads song (and album title) that the author didn't explicitly use:

“It's a Shame About Ray”. (Quinn)
I think I am going to go listen to it now. That album was the soundtrack to my grad school days.

And two: I really don't like Mary Kay.

This is a novella/short story about a selfish, obsessive woman who does not know herself. It also has several continuity errors (it's spring, frangipani blossoms everywhere, then it's Christmas break the next day; she's writing this from the future “I'm happily married now”, then she's writing it from her art school bed in real time.). Its only saving grace is the always-enchanting narrating by Mamie Gummer—the only reason I finished it.

Also, a frangipani is an American tree, and she's in Italy. That stuff really bugs me, especially when the tree is harped upon.

“I was surrounded by people I didn't have to explain myself to.”

How powerful for a survivor of sexual assault like me to hear.

To hear my story, listen to my podcast, There Might Be Cupcakes, episode “This Girl Just Had a Bad Date”.

Well, the man responsible for bottled Frappuccinos bludgeoned someone to death.

3 1/2 ⭐️The narration for this audiobook is top notch, but I would still recommend against it, because this story is complicated. Extremely. Harwood is quite talented in weaving disparate details into a multilayered mystery. This one is particular has not only several moving parts, but many, many characters and two generations. I think I got a little lost in parts due to its complexity, the audio format, and the switching of narrators.
That being said, it also has the most creative seance cabinet ever, and it is extremely evocative of mid-19th century London.

Two things:

Great interview in this book with my friend John Passarella, who wrote the kickass novelization for Halloween 2018.

Everything that's wrong with any of the Halloween sequels, or Rob Zombie's movies, can be traced back to Bob and Harvey Weinstein. That's not a generalization.

The title states that this book delves into the mind of Keith Raniere. This book delves into the mind of the author. Furthermore, Natalie wants to be important in the history of NXIVM, which disturbed me, given how many people have suffered. She states at least once, and has cult expert Rick Ross state twice in his intro, that she was the first to take Raniere down. The evidence doesn't pan out, frankly, even in her own book; it's not that simple. And it doesn't matter. I have seen this distasteful behavior before, concerning the FLDS trial, and who was the first whistleblower. One book, which I won't name here, is a lie, because it was published during the beginning of the trial, because the person was in such a hurry to make Natalie's same claims.

I hung on through Natalie's awkward and unprofessional narration after that red flag at the beginning. The book ends with her giving cutesy shoutouts to several different jurors—“I loved the way you rolled your eyes, Juror 12”.

This book is all about Natalie.

This is now my go-to Advent meditation book. It's thoughtful, well-written, and avoids stereotypical platitudes. Lovely Narnia visit for this quiet, dark season of thoughtfulness.

I rated it two stars initially, but I actually said out loud “Thank God” when I turned the last page, so that's not accurate.
This twee, confusing collection was a finalist for the Pulitzer, which means that even though I have a master's from Boston University and have been reading for over forty-six years, I apparently know nothing.
I feel really grumpy and out-of-sorts now. Uncomfortable. I should not feel this way after reading a book. One of the stories gave me a nightmare last night. You can tell how off I feel because I hardly ever leave reviews like this.

The Land of Oz theme park really existed. Link gets no credit for that. I went there as a child. I feel rather “get off my lawn” about this point.

Ugh. I feel weird. I need a hug and maybe a hot toddy.

What an incredibly original, powerful concept.

Got it from the library—I am going to buy it. It creates gluten-free and lactose-free recipes without including difficult ingredients like xanthum or exotic flours that require trips to fancy grocery stores. Just simple, healthy substitutions.

So many tangents.