"Crime Junkie" is having a banner year. This podcast seems to get weirder and weirder.
In recent weeks, we've had the tale of the woman who disappeared from a cruise ship. (She had premonitions before leaving for this particular family vacation, and begged not to go.) We've had the girl who was g-chatting with a friend--and her Internet stalker arrived at her home and drugged her and then assumed her voice to continue g-chatting with the friend. We've had the guy who went missing in Florida--and everyone thought alligators had eaten him--but in fact his wife had teamed up with his best friend to make use of a shotgun and capitalize on a particularly lucrative life-insurance policy.
The Florida story gets juicier. After the murder, Murderer and Wife-of-Victim ended up marrying. But things went south--perhaps because both parties were carrying a terrible secret--and then the murderer threatened to murder his now-wife and former co-conspirator.
Inexplicably, the wife turned the husband in to the authorities, and the authorities said (to the husband), "We won't throw the book at you if you reveal that you conspired with your wife in that big alligator plot several years ago." And the guy, no longer interested in protecting the wife, spilled all the beans.
I continue to think that "Crime Junkie" is more compelling than "Generation Why" and "My Favorite Murder," along with other alternatives, because of the tight script, the quality of the research, and the relentlessly-breathless voice the narrator employs. But I also think that "Crime Junkie" often simply chooses better raw material.
I think the CJ head honcho looks for *representative* cases: "Yes, this woman disappeared from a cruise ship, but did you know *many* people disappear from cruise ships?" "Yes, this girl was sort of murdered by the Internet, but did you know *many* people meet this fate?" Beyond the opportunity for generalizing, there's also the unforgettable details. An Internet murder story is an Internet murder story, but there's something really special about a case in which the killer *becomes* his victim, briefly, via g-chat. And a wife-killed-the-husband story can be ho hum, but when you throw in some alligators? Things get interesting.
If you haven't yet listened this week, please do. And spread the word. I'm so inspired by these storytellers, who have day-jobs and families, and who nevertheless find ways to follow their extracurricular passion week after week. I would wear their likeness on a tee shirt, if I could.
*P.S. Another case where the CJ honchos look for major patterns is: a discussion of family annihilators. (This was in a piece on the Watts family.) By making connections and forming general conclusions, the storytellers engage our brains. They're not *just* being sensational. They're encouraging us to find trends in human behavior. (You see this, also, in their "life rules": "When you have a funny feeling, be weird, be rude, and walk away." Also: "Tell people if something major happens. Summon your troops. Don't stay secretive.")
In recent weeks, we've had the tale of the woman who disappeared from a cruise ship. (She had premonitions before leaving for this particular family vacation, and begged not to go.) We've had the girl who was g-chatting with a friend--and her Internet stalker arrived at her home and drugged her and then assumed her voice to continue g-chatting with the friend. We've had the guy who went missing in Florida--and everyone thought alligators had eaten him--but in fact his wife had teamed up with his best friend to make use of a shotgun and capitalize on a particularly lucrative life-insurance policy.
The Florida story gets juicier. After the murder, Murderer and Wife-of-Victim ended up marrying. But things went south--perhaps because both parties were carrying a terrible secret--and then the murderer threatened to murder his now-wife and former co-conspirator.
Inexplicably, the wife turned the husband in to the authorities, and the authorities said (to the husband), "We won't throw the book at you if you reveal that you conspired with your wife in that big alligator plot several years ago." And the guy, no longer interested in protecting the wife, spilled all the beans.
I continue to think that "Crime Junkie" is more compelling than "Generation Why" and "My Favorite Murder," along with other alternatives, because of the tight script, the quality of the research, and the relentlessly-breathless voice the narrator employs. But I also think that "Crime Junkie" often simply chooses better raw material.
I think the CJ head honcho looks for *representative* cases: "Yes, this woman disappeared from a cruise ship, but did you know *many* people disappear from cruise ships?" "Yes, this girl was sort of murdered by the Internet, but did you know *many* people meet this fate?" Beyond the opportunity for generalizing, there's also the unforgettable details. An Internet murder story is an Internet murder story, but there's something really special about a case in which the killer *becomes* his victim, briefly, via g-chat. And a wife-killed-the-husband story can be ho hum, but when you throw in some alligators? Things get interesting.
If you haven't yet listened this week, please do. And spread the word. I'm so inspired by these storytellers, who have day-jobs and families, and who nevertheless find ways to follow their extracurricular passion week after week. I would wear their likeness on a tee shirt, if I could.
*P.S. Another case where the CJ honchos look for major patterns is: a discussion of family annihilators. (This was in a piece on the Watts family.) By making connections and forming general conclusions, the storytellers engage our brains. They're not *just* being sensational. They're encouraging us to find trends in human behavior. (You see this, also, in their "life rules": "When you have a funny feeling, be weird, be rude, and walk away." Also: "Tell people if something major happens. Summon your troops. Don't stay secretive.")
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