This was a gripping page turner about a private investigator and her work to expose and hold accountable a university that prioritized football heroes over victims of sexual assault. I couldn’t put it down and finished the book quickly.
I docked half a star because there were a few moments where the author delved into her personal story in a way that felt disjointed (though most of the moments where she weaved in her own experiences it felt connected to the larger story).
I am a big fan of this book and will never read it again.

 

I almost put this down after the first paragraph. Something very….squishy about the way the author describes the mysterious power of her face to draw stories from people. Unsettling. And then continues to throw that face on the page throughout the book. When I was able to forget her face there was some interesting stuff here with the potential for a great book. Unfortunately, this isn’t it. The interweaving of a University sexual assault scandal investigation with unraveling a personal childhood of sexual abuse is a rich narrative opportunity that is presented here with mixed results. There were portions where it hummed—the investigation was compelling and the unpacking of the author’s  dysfunctional family dynamics came into focus.  Too often the paralysis of the main character—because of frustration with the investigation and the unwillingness of her family to acknowledge her paint--traps the narrative in amber. She can’t move—we can’t move. The analysis of her feelings seems to be happening in real time instead of from a thoughtful distance—real time meaning the jumbled, confused state we live in when first going through something.  It’s important that these topics be explored so I was really rooting for this book. NPR spoke well of it. But despite the opportunities for growth along the way, it all seems to happen smack dab at the end as if she were told—we’ve reached our page limit—time to wrap it up.  And that led to a car crash of thoughts  at the end—two different drafts of the same page seemed to follow each other—and an I LANDED ON MY FEET ending that seemed out of nowhere. Wasted opportunity. 

There are portions of this book that cuts deep, and then other pieces of her life and trauma thrown in that was dark and very icky, and seemed really unnecessary.

Exquisite writing. You’re drawn in from the first page. Krouse’s genuinely fascinating story weaves perfectly with the story at large. Highly recommend to true crime fans and fans of memoirs. 

This reads more like a memoir than true crime coverage.  It is a real middle of the road book for me.  I was very interested in the subject and wanted to learn more about the case, but I think I’d have learned more about it if I’d done my own research (which I will now do).