Stay Sexy and Don’t Get Murdered took me by surprise. As a long time fan of My Favorite Murder, I couldn’t wait to hear what cases Karen and Georgia had selected for their book. I was eager to see two of my favorite storytellers transfer their gift of gab to the page.
I don’t know what I was expecting—that Karen and Georgia were going to attempt to fill the shoes of
Ann Rule? That’s not at all what I got. What I got was something much more personal. What I got was something that had me sobbing nearly every chapter, not over the sad stories of murder victims and their families, but over the real, personal life stories of growth from two women who spend so much time in my ear that they feel like personal friends. I got advice and lessons from women who’ve struggled with exactly the same issues that I do, and have made made real progress toward bettering themselves. That’s something that I didn’t realize I needed.
Some sections of the book, particularly Karen’s, sent me into a spiral a couple of times and I had to stop. Karen’s voice of self-hatred sounds identical to mine. Merely hearing her say the words “you begin to wonder why you ever believed in yourself,” or “you wake up knowing whatever hope you had was internally manufactured and entirely ridiculous,” made my brain go haywire. I read the next paragraph on the page but my mind was a million miles away. I had to put the book down and shake the voice away. Karen suggests the cure for this thinking and the best way to escape the “cult of perfection” is by keeping your inner circle close. Having a support system so you have a “dad” to call. It’s wonderful advice and makes me wish my inner circle didn’t live two states away.
Georgia’s tale of becoming a murderino reminds me of my own, though I was far from a latchkey kid. I very much appreciate the community that Karen and Georgia have created with this podcast. To be able to embrace this part of my personality is something that seemed impossible back in 8th grade, when I was arguing with my English teacher about why she should let me write my research paper on sociopathy. Hearing their personal stories of anxiety and the experiences that shaped their interests made me feel not so alone.
Georgia has had a lifetime’s worth of experience with therapy. In the book, she talks about diagnosis and its stigma, which terrifies a lot of people. As someone who had a mental illness cocktail not too different from hers, I appreciate her speaking about it. We need to understand ourselves. It is essential to our happiness. Being ashamed of how your body works and what you need to do to make your life livable will tear you apart. (See Stuck)
Karen makes you feel like you lived through her childhood yourself. A day in the life of a latchkey kid and the horse story (that lady was messed up: you don’t treat horses that way!), are hilarious and well-written. I’m also very curious about this old-style frozen yogurt. What was it like? When did it change? I have so many questions.
The career section slapped me in the face. In the middle of a career shift myself, hearing inspiring stories from these women whose dreams have come true was emotional. These women who share my interests and my problems were able to make it. Maybe I can too.
I loved that they gave us just the littlest bit of the ladies chatting together with the short Q&A section. It’s what we came for, and they’re hilarious.
Georgia’s writing gets better and more relaxed toward the end. Not that it isn’t great in the beginning (the photographer story, OMG), but she seems to fall into a groove.
Karen has the ability to throw me into her own experiences. Reading this, I felt like I was in junior high, getting made fun of for asking for money for candy. I felt absolutely humiliated—not for Karen, but for me, because it washed a whole wave of horrifying pubescent memories of myself all over my body. She took me back there with her familiar storytelling style that I’ve come to know and love. I am grateful to her for talking about all of these painful things so publicly, in a book. It helps me personally realize that we all go through the same horrifying, embarrassing, infuriating shit under our crazy patriarchal system. By design, we often feel like crap about ourselves. It takes away our power.
And as a person who has both been a junior high girl and taught junior high girls, “for girls in junior high, things get dark, real dark. Like Cormac McCarthy dark. And you’re only thirteen,” is the most accurate thing I’ve ever heard. Being thirteen injured us all. We’re all still just recovering from junior high.
The last section on the forest resonated deeply with me. I too did my fair share of worrying about family members who had spent too long away from camp. I love hearing about her dad. (MARTY!) You can hear her adoration for him in each sentence.
I love how both of them are so open to criticism and corrections. Karen’s section on victim-blaming is excellent. The only reason anyone is ever assaulted or murdered is because some jerk decided to assault or murder them. This advice book is aware that its title might fall in the victim-blaming category, but Karen makes it clear that was the last thing they wanted to do. So many of us have been conditioned by society to blame the victim; we don’t even realize we’re doing it sometimes because it’s part of how we’ve been enculturated. We need to work harder to think about how our words would make the victim feel about themselves. The only person who is ever truly to blame is the person who commited the assault or murder.
This wasn’t the type of book I usually read. Nobody got murdered (with the exception of short mentions of several cases, like Michelle Wallace’s murder, the Bernardo Murders, and a couple others). Everyone stayed sexy. This is a book my therapist will be happy I read. It’s a book that speaks to my specific psychological issues, and makes me feel hopeful that I really can make progress.
Stay sexy and don’t get murdered, and just as importantly, don’t be a dick and do good things.
Brooke
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