Review: "The Murderess," Laurie Notaro

In 1931, Winnie Ruth Judd, a preacher’s daughter from Indiana, arrived at Union Station is Los Angeles with the bodies of two women (one dismembered) in her luggage.

Really.

Laurie Notaro tells Judd’s story in a gripping novel that reads like a true crime story.

Which it is.

I only had a passing knowledge of Judd, which is surprising. I was a true-crime buff in my younger years. Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood remains one of my favorite books, and I devoured almost everything Ann Rule wrote.

But I knew very little about Judd. So I was able to read and enjoy this book as a fictional creation. When I compared the narrative to the facts, however, I realized how firmly the author had stuck to the facts.

Here’s how the story unfolds in the novel:

Judd was a small, pretty and personable woman. She married Dr. William C. Judd, in 1922, perhaps to escape her restrictive upbringing. She was 17, he was 37.

Judd was a veteran of World War I and became a drug addict, likely due to his injuries. The couple moved around the Southwest and spent time in Mexico—he kept getting fired due to his problems. Ruth, as she was known, had issues of her own. She was mentally ill, probably schizophrenic.

In 1929, Dr. Judd takes a job in California. He sends Ruth back to Indiana to stay with her parents for awhile. En route, Ruth meets a woman who’s headed for California to open a beauty salon. She decides to go along, and cashes in her train ticket. When the woman’s car breaks down, Ruth finds herself stuck in Phoenix.

She decides to settle in and bloom where she’s planted. Ruth gets a job as a secretary in a new medical clinic and makes friends with Anne LeRoi and Helvig “Sammy” Samuelson, who share a house. The three enjoy meals and games of cards together, and listening to mystery show broadcasts on the radio.

Then Ruth meets Jack Halloran, a wealthy lumber broker and contractor. She exults in their affair—until he meets Anne and Sammy.

He and Anne flirt outrageously. Ruth is sure the relationship is going further than that. And then Jack begins bringing men to Anne and Sammy’s bungalow—clients he wants to impress. Wild parties ensue.

Ruth feels more and more isolated—and betrayed. Her old demons rise to the surface. Her friends insist nothing untoward is happening, and convince Ruth to stay overnight at the bungalow. By morning, both Anne and Sammy are dead.

When Ruth arrives with her morbid cargo at Union Station, the trunks are reeking. The police are called. Ruth disappears. She goes on the lam, is caught and extradited to Arizona. Ruth is on death row when she is declared insane and sent to the state hospital.

There she manages to escape several times before authorities decide to let her just be—until another murder happens.

Yes, it’s one of those stories where, if the writer made it up, it would defy belief.

Ruth is a sympathetic character despite herself. She never got the help she needed, even though her issues surfaced in adolescence. She was vilified in the press, which called her “the velvet tigress.” And it’s highly unlikely that she was able to cut up Sammy with surgical precision. Jack Halloran was indicted as an accomplice but eventually exonerated. It is a satisfying bit of karma that he did lose all his wealth and died young and alone.

Ruth lived to the ripe old age of 93, a legend in both life and death. Her story, real and fictionalized, is fascinating.

Review: "The Sequel," Jean Hanff Korelitz

Jake Bonner is dead. He was the best-selling author of the novel Crib, and his story was told in Jean Hanff Korelitz’s The Plot.

The Sequel is the sequel to The Plot.

I’m going to try to review The Sequel without giving away The Plot. It won’t be easy.

Then again, if you haven’t read The Plot, there’s no need to read this review. You absolutely need to read The Plot before you read The Sequel.

You are welcome in advance for this advice.

Anna Williams-Bonner is Jake’s widow. She is enjoying her new life by tending to his legacy and living off the proceeds of his very popular book. Then his agent, Matilda, suggests that Anna write a book of her own.

Why not, she thinks.

Anna is a cool, extremely focused character. So it’s really not surprising that she writes a best seller on her first try. Her novel, The Afterword, is about a woman whose husband commits suicide. Hmm…

Readers relate—big time—to the story and Anna embarks on a coast-to-coast tour. But there’s a fly in the ointment. Jake had been plagued by an anonymous figure who accused him of plagiarism. Now more accusations are surfacing, and they threaten to undo Anna’s comfortable life.

Anna is determined to put the accuser to rest. In fact, she won’t let anything stand in her way. In fact, she’s a sociopath.

Well, maybe that’s because she had a traumatic childhood. Or did she? To call Anna an unreliable narrator would be an understatement. The story exists on three levels—Anna, today; Anna’s past; and the narrative of The Crib. A few times, I had to stop and think about what fictional “reality” I was experiencing.

Anna is a fascinating character—I couldn’t help but admire her smooth but icy demeanor, evil ingenuity and single-mindedness, even as bodies were falling. I’m not sure what this says about me, but I was turning the pages too fast to care.

The book ends with an entirely plausible, yet deliciously ironic twist—and maybe an opening for yet another sequel.

An added delight was the author’s use of book titles for chapter headings—It Starts with Us and Ripley Underground and Doctor Sleep among them.

Korelitz has crafted a fascinating mystery that also pokes slyly at the literary world. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.

Review: "The Making of a Medium," Francine McEwen

Francine McEwen has written an interesting and informative account of how she became a medium.

This isn’t exactly a review, because Francine is a friend, and so I can’t be totally objective.

Also, I am a bit of a skeptic regarding the whole idea of mediumship. Perhaps “friendly skeptic” is a good description of my attitude. I have had dreams that revealed to me information that I didn’t know in my waking hours. I believe cardinals are messengers from my deceased ancestors, come to offer me support as they nibble on sunflower seeds. In other words, I do have my own humble connections to the spirit world.

Perhaps the best way to explain my status is that I am open to the idea of mediums, but not entirely convinced.

That did not stop me from enjoying this book.

I was impressed by Francine’s calling to provide solace to the grieving with her messages from their loved ones. I like the idea that our departed companion animals abide with our “family pods” until we are able to join them.

Francine writes that she recognized her gift as a child, though it took her years to understand exactly what it was. As an adult, she studied mediumship and has worked with mentors. I didn’t know such an educational infrastructure existed and thought it commendable.

I was especially interested to learn about mediums' use of “automatic writing.” As a writer, I know the power of free writing—letting words flow while keeping the inner “editor” on mute. It is a powerful tool for creativity, but also for self-growth and healing. I can see how this practice would help mediums to “tune in” to messages from beyond.

I may have been a little less of a skeptic by the time I finished this book. But the bottom line is this: A reader does not have to be a believer to enjoy The Making of a Medium.

Essay: A few post-election thoughts from a dismayed voter

I like the economy and precision of author Bob Woodward's recent book titles about the presidency: "Fear" and "Rage" and"War,"

 

If I were writing a book right now it would be called “Dismay.”

I’m dismayed that my candidate did not win the presidential election. But I am equally  dismayed at the thought that so many of my fellow Americans voted for a convicted felon who vowed to “lock up” those he views as enemies. Who said he’d be a dictator on “day one.” A man who said on the stump he was going to “protect” women “whether the women like it or not.”

Who are you, fellow voters?

Americans like to say—in a wide variety of circumstances—“we’re better than that.” Guess what. We’re not.

Of course, I accept the outcome of this election. Logically, in the legal sense, with my left brain. Emotionally, it’s going to take a while.

I’m working on it. I am relying on my favorite mantra, “Go with the universe.” Matt Gaetz as attorney general? Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. heading Health and Human Services? Let’s see how that works out.

I feel like I’m distancing myself, and watching a not very well written farce play out on a stage.

This is probably a healthy thing to do.

I saw the presidential race as a battle between good and evil. But I’ve since learned that, to many voters, the price of gas is more important than the future of our democracy. That being asked to call a person “they” instead of “she” is more important than insuring America is doing its part to deal with climate change. Donald Trump has promised to deport millions of immigrants. I guess some people think that’s reason enough to return to office the guy who suggested that we drink bleach during a pandemic.

OK, deep breath. I don’t like the price of food right now. I get it that many people who rent their homes are in precarious positions because of high housing costs. Despite my liberal leanings, I even understand the backlash against what the right likes to call “woke.”

The widespread fear and hatred of immigration, I must admit, puzzles me. I agree that the system has problems. I can see how some border towns bear an undue burden. But we need immigrants. Here’s one simplistic, yet important reason: they fill jobs in meat-packing plants, nursing homes and agriculture that Americans don’t want.

The fact is that two of Trump’s biggest plans, the deportation of migrants and the imposition of tariffs on foreign goods, are likely to hurt middle- and working-class Americans.

Somehow, the Democrats could not get that message across. Suddenly, we are perceived as elitist. It’s mind-boggling. I am sitting here worried, as a person in her 60s, about the future of Social Security, Medicare and vaccines. Elon Musk is Trump’s new best friend, and it’s the Democrats who are elitist?

I am trying to understand all this and, so far, failing.

My husband and I own our home. We have comfortable retirement incomes. So far, so good, as far as health. I am grateful for what I have. But I am certainly not immune to inflation. I get mad, too. I stood in the grocery store recently transfixed by the price of olive oil. It was outrageous.

My reaction: I looked for a cheaper source. I did not run out and vote for a would-be dictator.

A huge factor in the campaign was disinformation. Need I say more than “pet-eating migrants”? I was a school librarian for 32 years, and labored mightily to help students improve their critical thinking skills. Imagine how I felt when I heard a TV pundit say that, in focus groups, people consistently asked “what’s an authoritarian?”

I wept.

Just the other day, people in a Facebook group for people interested in frugality wondered why some members were worried about higher prices after January 20th. One said glibly that she couldn’t wait for prices to drop to 2016 levels, which she apparently expected to happen 10 minutes after the inauguration.

I resisted all temptation to type, “Lady, do you remember prices during the pandemic?”

Oh, well, it is what it is. Thanksgiving, the best holiday (because it features stuffing), is next week. Christmas is coming. The Jacquie Lawson digital Advent calendar, which I download annually, is set in Paris this year. It will be a welcome distraction. Ooh-la-la.

I will resolve in the New Year to see what I can do to further the cause of climate protection, which is my most important issue. I will be on alert for other opportunities to fight the good fight.

I’d like to do something about the price of olive oil, but I don’t see that happening.

By the way, olive oil is not elitist. It’s good for you. And given the future of health care in the Trump administration, prevention will be key. 

I will focus on the fact that my state and the region I love, New England, are firmly blue. I will appreciate my haven of sanity. I will continue to applaud my neighbors for choosing good over evil.

I see you, my friends, and what you have done. What’s next? What can we do to protect our democracy?

Maybe write a chapter called “Hope.”

__________

 I welcome email at lizzie621@icloud.com