Murder Most Delicious
Why do I love the dark stuff so much?
Like most of the world, I just finished watching Mare of Easttown. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a murder/police procedural set in small-town Pennsylvania. The end of Mare gave me time to return to my ongoing show, Ozark, which is not a murder show per se, but the body count is reliably high. My favorite shows over the last few years have largely involved murders, too: Happy Valley (which really should have been named Unhappy Valley), Broadchurch, Spiral, Trapped, Homicide.
Before I fall asleep at night, I usually catch a few minutes of a murder podcast; my current one is Missing on 9/11, which explores the mystery of Sneha Anne Philip, who vanished from the known world on September 10, 2001. (My bet is that she was murdered.) Right before I conk out, I often read a few short Medium posts from the True Crime collection. Apparently, I have an appetite for the grim side of things.
Obviously, I’m not alone. Books, television, movies, and podcasts (oh, so many podcasts!) focus on murder; the fans are legion. I never really thought of myself as a crime junkie, but the proof is incontrovertible. I gravitate towards homicide in all of its forms. My husband likes to tease me about it, asking cheerily, “How’s your current murder going?” when I have my AirPods plugged in and that absorbed look on my face.
