Tag Archives: memoir

by | July 22, 2012 · 4:46 pm

A Dream Realized: Barnes & Noble Book Stores Now Carrying Diary of Predator: A Memoir

Diary of a Predator: A Memoir at Barnes & Noble

Diary of a Predator: A Memoir is now available at Barnes & Noble book stores, such as this location in Boulder, Colo. | Photo by Amy Herdy

When I first started working on the true-crime book about serial rapist Brent Brents that became Diary of a Predator: A Memoir my husband told me he would no longer go to bookstores with me.

The reason? I would walk past some of the trite or atrocious titles on the shelves and start to feel depressed. It wasn’t that I thought Diary of a Predator was so much better; I was just convinced it had a story–and a message–that was worthwhile, and I fretted the book would never get a chance.

I hoped, but did not expect, that I would see it on the shelf of a major bookstore. Publishing statistics show there are more than 100,000 new books published every year, yet most bookstore chains (like Barnes & Noble) stock only a fraction of them–about 10,000 titles.

So I was very happily shocked when I got a call from a buyer for Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago. She said they planned to put Diary of a Predator: A Memoir in some of their top true-crime-selling stores around the country.

One such store is in Boulder, at 30th and Pear Street. I visited it the other day, and sure enough, there was Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, right on the shelf in the “True Crime” section.  It’s hard to describe the feeling I got when looking at my book there on the shelf. Diary of a Predator: A Memoir is the culmination of a career covering crime and out of that, the five years I devoted to the stubborn notion that this book would inspire and educate people.

And that’s the most gratifying part of all:  Hearing from folks that reading this book left them wanting to be a better person, or spread some good in the world.

So thank you, Barnes & Noble, for helping to get Diary of a Predator: A Memoir out there.

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by | July 6, 2012 · 8:49 am

an act of faith

Years ago, before I had even begun writing Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, when it was still just a germ of an idea that I called “The book,” Brent Brents wrote this to me:

“Someone once said that ‘every work of art is an act of faith.’  You writing this book is going to be a work of art, it is going to be an act of faith.”

I looked up the rest of the quote, and it resonated with me so much that I’m going to repeat it here. It’s from British novelist Jeanette Winterson, and it speaks to one of the main reasons I wrote this book–to reach out with its message:

“I think every work of art is an act of faith, or we wouldn’t bother to do it. It is a message in a bottle, a shout in the dark. It’s saying ‘I’m here and I believe that you are somewhere and that you will answer, if necessary, across time, not necessarily in my lifetime.”

-Jeanette Winterson

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by | June 22, 2012 · 9:55 pm

Why Did Jerry Sandusky Do It?

There are many studies that link child sexual abuse to that person becoming a perpetrator in later life, and Diary of a Predator: A Memoir is a perfect case study of that–Brent Brents committed crimes that were a direct reflection of the abuse he received as a child.

 If you look at Jerry Sandusky’s childhood circumstances, you can see that he could very well have been a victim of child sexual abuse. When Jerry Sandusky was six–a vulnerable age–his family moved into an upstairs apartment of the Brownson House, a recreation center for troubled boys. By all accounts, thousands of troubled youth passed through that center, which included facilities for basketball, football and baseball-and which would have included locker rooms with showers (details from Jerry Sandusky’s case include him sexually abusing boys in a locker room shower).
 The following is from a study by the British Journal of Psychiatry in 2001:
The risk of being a perpetrator is enhanced by prior victim experiences, doubled for incest, more so for peodophilia, and even higher for those exposed to both peodophilia and incest. This suggests that, in this selected sample, the experience of being a victim of peodophilia may have a more powerful causative influence in giving rise to the subject becoming a perpetrator than does incest, and the joint experience of being exposed to both peodophilia and incest has the most powerful effect.
  This view is supported by the frequent clinical finding that the abuser’s target age-group is usually limited to the age when he was himself abused. The abusive act is a traumatic one — however cooperative the victim might appear to be — and the change from being the passive victim to the active perpetrator, making use of the mechanism of identification with the aggressor, is the way in which some victims repeatedly attempt to master the trauma. The use of psychological mechanisms, particularly splitting and denial, which enable the abuser to believe he is being benevolent when he is being abusive, are further characteristics which the victim acquires through his identification with the perpetrator.
-It sounds like that’s exactly what Jerry Sandusky did.  And it’s definitely what Brent Brents did–he became a perpetrator in order to try to gain control over his feelings of helplessness, rage and victimization.

It does not excuse the horrible actions of either man, neither Brent Brents nor Jerry Sandusky. But it does help explain them.

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by | June 3, 2012 · 7:20 pm

Gods Green earth is fair Game

I’m including an except below from serial rapist Brent Brents’ journal that’s in my book, Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, because of its chilling self description.

But first, something from James Gilligan: “The living dead.”

-That’s a term for violent men from the book, Violence: Reflections On A National Epidemic, by James Gilligan, M.D., and it resonates with me because it’s similar to how Brent Brents describes himself.

Gilligan, who directed the Center for the Study of Violence at Harvard Medical School, is the former medical director of the Bridgewater State Hospital for the criminally insane and was director of mental health for the Massachusetts prison system.

To call violent prison inmates “the living dead” is not a metaphor he invented, Gilligan says in his book; rather, it’s a summary of how the men describe themselves, that they cannot feel anything, that their souls are dead.

He goes on to write, “They have dead souls because their souls were murdered. How did it happen?”

The answer, Gilligan says, was “a degree of violence and cruelty…in childhood…so extreme and unusual that it gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘child abuse.'”

Which is exactly how Brent Brents was created–horrific and habitual child abuse. And it doesn’t excuse his actions, but it certainly helps explain them, and understanding violence takes us one step closer toward preventing it.

As for the self description written by Brent Brents, I begin the start of nearly every chapter of  Diary of a Predator: A Memoir with an excerpt from one of his letters or from his journal (which is also featured in large portions throughout the rest of the book). This is at the start of chapter One, A Hunter at Work:

I could easily be Bundy i think he had the same fucked up
brain the release was never Achievable. What realy hurts me
deep is that there are a few things and people I can sincerely
care for and love and would never hurt but the rest of Gods
Green earth is fair Game. I am truly a fucked up dangerous
person and were the opportunities to present themselves I
would act. It hurts me to admit this. I am sorry for hurting
all those other people, Truly but how can i be any kind of
Good or decent if i cant stop my mind from Working Like it
does. I look back to when i was a kid and i realy think i went
crazy. Death is the only solution to this.
—From Brent’s journal

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by | April 8, 2012 · 8:29 pm

if we are to change futures

Here’s another comment sent to this website today by Kathy, who heard the interview  on Colorado Public Radio regarding my book, Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, which is about my experiences covering the case of serial rapist Brent Brents.

“Thank you so much. You told truths that are hard to hear but necessary if we are to change futures. I am glad you helped Mr. Brents find his humanity.”

You are welcome, Kathy, and it’s folks like you who take the time to connect who inspire me. So thank you for for writing.

Amy

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by | April 1, 2012 · 8:50 am

hellbent on the cancers of judgment/shame/blame

Note from Amy: The comment below is referring to the following post that Brent Brents wrote about one book review of  Diary of a Predator: A Memoir.

You know Some people out there Amy really don’t understand violence. Their lives are clean. The girl who wrote the review in the Daily Camera probably is one of those people. I’m glad for her. But sad to.

I think sometimes people need to know the reality. It sounds like you accomplished that in the book. -Brent Brents

And today I received this comment to the website:

Hi Amy & Brent:
The line from the article you linked that reads “when Herdy gives the perpetrator a voice, it feels wrong” is what is so wrong. If we don’t listen to what violent people say, how the hell are we ever gonna fix the problem? Seems like a no-brainer, but the dominant euro-christian culture is hellbent on the cancers of judgment/shame/blame and as long as that’s where the energy goes, change will not happen.

Sincerely,
Natasha

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by | January 17, 2012 · 6:00 am

A Tale of Two Predators, Indeed

A tale of two PredatorsI always brace myself when other media interview me, but Boulder Weekly Art & Entertainment Editor David Accomazzo was able to tackle the complicated elements of my book about covering the case of serial rapist Brent Brents, Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, and hone in on its essence in an articulate way:

“Herdy tells her side of her strange, unsettling relationship with the serial rapist in her book, Diary of a Predator. It’s a true crime retelling of  Brents’ story, but it’s also what Herdy calls a “dual memoir.” It’s both the story of Brents’ horrific childhood as well as an intensely personal, revealing look at Herdy’s role as the journalist telling his story, and the effect it wrought on her and her family. She describes the book in the prologue as ‘the tale of two predators — one a criminal, the other a journalist.'”

Read the rest of David’s piece: http://www.boulderweekly.com/article-7316-a-tale-of-two-predators.html

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by | November 23, 2011 · 6:00 am

This is Margaret–a survivor of rape

I got a call the other day from someone who read my book, Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, and he said one of the things he found amazing was the account of how one of Brent Brents’ victims, a woman named Margaret, forgave Brents for what he did to her.

I agreed. Even as I was covering her case, Margaret’s ability to find compassion in the midst of all of her own pain, anger and sorrow astounded me. To this day, she remains one of my heroes.

After hanging up the phone with that reader, I thought, “I wonder how Margaret is doing?” and so I gave her a call. I left her a voice mail, and she called me back the next day.

“I was just thinking the other day, ‘I wonder how Amy’s doing?’–and then you called,” she told me. “Pretty funny.”

And when I asked about her life, she answered me, in true Margaret fashion, with a stream of consciousness. Like many survivors of rape who struggle with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Margaret said she still often has a hard time leaving the house. Her marriage fell apart, and she cannot hold down a job. She applied for disability and was turned down, but she’s got a lawyer and is appealing.

More than anything, she continues to fight to heal. But I’ll let Margaret put it in her own words, which she said I could post here:

“The therapist tells me, You don’t wanna think about it. But if you don’t think about it then you dream about it.

When I go to sleep I have nightmares, and I don’t even remember what about.

Filling out a job application–my hands are shaking, I feel like they’re watching me: “What’s going on? Stupid!”

-That’s when I started noticing, What’s left of Margaret? I know that I have to feel better. But when, I don’t know.

I don’t think I’ll ever be the same but I’ll work on getting on with my life.

It’s going to be tough but I’m not gonna let it bother me forever. You have to move on. If you stay mad forever you will tear yourself up even worse. I look at anger as a bad thing and I try to leave it behind.

I’m sure he had a lot of anger, a lot of hurt and anger. I feel bad for everything that happened to him. Maybe someday down the road I can read everything.

I feel bad still but I know there are a lot of people who have it worse. So in a way I feel lucky.”

-Margaret 11-18-11

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by | November 4, 2011 · 6:00 am

Writing Diary of a Predator: A Memoir

Part two.

When I first started writing the book, I put together the requisite non-fiction book proposal: I wrote the first chapter, summaries of the rest of the chapters, and an overview.  Then, as I said earlier, the interested publisher got fired, my literary agent never called me back and I decided to give the book project a break.

A really long break.

Every once in a while, I’d open up the Word file and peek at the chapter and the summaries.  It was a standard true-crime book, told in narrative fashion, which is my favorite form of writing and one that I learned at the St. Petersburg Times. And slowly, the heavy rock of discouragement lifted, and I started to be drawn back to the book more and more.

The tweaking began.

And since all writers need feedback, I started cautiously asking different people if they’d give their opinions. I eventually got downright bold about it, emailing the entire thing first to my sister, and then to a close friend.

“Not bad,” they both said. “But you need to put more of yourself in it.”

Ak! That’s not what reporters do.  We are classically trained in, Just the facts, ma’am, and we don’t insert ourselves into our stories.

But these were people whose opinions I respected, so I revealed a little more of what it was like to report on that serial rapist case.

And they became like hungry baby birds: “More! More!”

So I did. And the more I revealed, the easier the self disclosure became. Soon it wasn’t enough to just detail the process and the effects of covering this case, I decided that I needed to include some of my history so that the reader would have context for my reactions and choices.

And then I took a deep breath, and gave the bare bones of the book to an audience I was sure would hate it: Cops.

To be continued…

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by | October 27, 2011 · 9:50 pm

Writing Diary of a Predator: A Memoir

Part one: During all my years as a working journalist, my favorite part of the process was sitting down at my desk with a stack of notebooks beside me and a blank computer screen in front of me. I loved it for the Rubik’s cube-like challenge of putting all the details neatly into place, even though this usually happened under the constraints of a ticking deadline clock and sometimes with an editor literally breathing down my neck, demanding, “How close are you?”

I never had writer’s block, ever. I never missed a deadline. Since I usually wrote the lead to the story in my head while driving back to the newsroom, and the lead is the hardest part, the rest of it would fall into place like a row of obedient dominoes.

And then I decided to write a book, and found to be true what a friend of mine predicted, “Writing that book is going to kick your ass.”

The volume of the material was overwhelming: The court file alone was more than 500 pages. I had dozens of filled notebooks, stacks of documents I’d copied from Brents’ case file at the public defender’s office, transcripts of police interviews and copies of police reports.

I also had hundreds of pages of letters and journal entries from Brents, and he continued to write, sending letters every week. They filled a filing cabinet, and when that overflowed, I bought another.

The idea of the book soon loomed like the proverbial elephant in the living room, only this elephant was a hulking, smelly woolly mammoth with sharp spikes for tusks. I wanted nothing to do with it.

I told myself that I was too busy to try to start writing the book, that the material was so complex that it couldn’t be tackled in between juggling a family and a full-time job.

I told myself I needed time to get over the crushing blow of having a major, albeit controversial, publisher interested in it only to be fired the very week we were supposed to meet, swiftly followed by the crushing blow of my first literary agent simply disappearing on me.

And all those things were true. But what I really needed in order to be able to write that book was to slowly come to the realization that this wasn’t going to be simply a true-crime book; that in order to tell the story properly I had to do it fully. That meant opening a vein and revealing parts of myself that were deeply personal, as well as stepping back from my beloved craft and writing about the dark side of journalism itself.

Coming up: Writing Diary of a Predator: A Memoir, part two.

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