Suchergebnisse

Intro -- Dedication -- Acknowledgments -- Introduction -- Fly Me to the Moon -- OMG! Out in Public! -- Who's That Girl on TV? -- "SMILE" -- Cold Soup? -- A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes . . . When You're Missing -- Just Sing! -- "Puppy Love" -- "Dream a Little Dream" -- Lesson Learned! -- Walk the Plank -- Don't Judge -- Confessions of an Imperfect Person (or Where the Heck Are the Minis?!) -- Addiction -- "Oh So Pretty" -- In Plain Sight -- Disgusted -- Barbies Are Good for the Soul -- Most Embarrassing Moment -- First Christmas -- That Time We Went to See Garth in Ireland -- Most Frustrating Moment -- Journey to a New Land -- Two Psychologists and a Survivor Walk into a Bar . . . -- Hope Is a Four-Letter Word -- Lil Sis -- Where's the Rage, Jaycee? -- Open Wide and Say AHHH! -- Through Thick and Thin -- Now, That's Grand! -- Baked Potatoes -- Pass the Cheese, Please -- My Inner Circle -- About Jaycee Dugard -- Copyright.

Intro -- Dedication -- Author's Note -- Introduction -- The Taking -- Stolen -- The Secret Backyard -- Alone in a Strange Place -- The First Time -- First Kitty -- The First "Run" -- Nancy -- Easter: Phillip on an Island -- Christmas -- Learning I Was Pregnant -- Driving to a Trailer -- Waiting for Baby -- Taking Care of a Baby -- Sarge -- Second Baby -- The Starting of Printing for Less -- Birth of Second Baby -- Raising the Girls in the Backyard -- Nancy Becomes "Mom" -- Pretending to Be a Family -- Cats -- Surviving -- Discovery and Reunion -- Firsts for Me -- Milestones -- The Difficult Parts of Life -- Finding Old Friends -- Therapeutic Healing -- Meeting with Nancy -- Therapeutic Healing with a Twist -- Afterword -- Acknowledgments -- Reading Group Guide -- Copyright.

FBI Agent Jeff Rinek, well-known for a number of high-profile investigations, including the Unabomber, the kidnapping of Jaycee Dugard, and the Yosemite Park murders committed by a serial killer named Cary Stayner deeply personal account of what it's like to work cases when a missing child's life hangs in the balance or when a serial child killer must be identified and stopped before he kills again.

A striking trend is emerging in the Canadian and American literary landscape, and memoirs with the following narrative trajectory are now widely read: a stranger abducts a young woman, and holds her captive for years. She endures sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, eventually escapes, and returns to her former life. The sole scholarly discussion about these memoirs frames them as empowering for the authors, but the social and economic factors that inform these texts remain unaddressed. Drawing from Michel Foucault's discussion of the confession, this article complicates and extends this analysis. First, it situates memoirs by Elizabeth Smart, Amanda Berry and Gena DeJesus, Jaycee Dugard, Michelle Knight, and Josefina Rivera as examples of the Foucauldian sexual confession. It then maps the ways memoirs enable the authors to voice their understanding of the social and economic factors that both gave rise to their plight and inform media discussions that blame them for their suffering. I will ultimately argue that memoirs function as a public venue to resist or reject dominant interpretive frames that shape a survivor's experiences, while simultaneously reaffirming the ubiquity of these lines of thinking.

"From the detective who found The Golden State Killer, a memoir of investigating America's toughest cold cases and the rewards--and toll--of a life solving crime. I order another bourbon, neat. This is the drink that will flip the switch. I don't even know how I got here, to this place, to this point. Something is happening to me lately. I'm drinking too much. My sheets are soaking wet when I wake up from nightmares of decaying corpses. I order another drink and swig it, trying to forget about the latest case I can't shake. Crime-solving for me is more complex than the challenge of the hunt, or the process of piecing together a scientific puzzle. The thought of good people suffering drives me, for better or worse, to the point of obsession. People always ask how I am able to detach from the horrors of my work. Part of it is an innate capacity to compartmentalize; the rest is experience and exposure, and I've had plenty of both. But I had always taken pride in the fact that I can keep my feelings locked up to get the job done. It's only been recently that it feels like all that suppressed darkness is beginning to seep out. When I look back at my long career, there is a lot I am proud of. I have caught some of the most notorious killers of the twenty-first century and brought justice and closure for their victims and families. I want to tell you about a lifetime solving these cold cases, from Laci Peterson to Jaycee Dugard to the Pittsburg homicides to, yes, my twenty-year-long hunt for the Golden State Killer. But a deeper question eats at me as I ask myself, at what cost? I have sacrificed relationships, joy-even fatherhood-because the pursuit of evil always came first. Did I make the right choice? It's something I grapple with every day. Yet as I stand in the spot where a young girl took her last breath, as I look into the eyes of her family, I know that, for me, there has never been a choice. "I don't know if I can solve your case," I whisper. "But I promise I will do my best." It is a promise I know I can keep"--