Don’t Forget the Girl – Rebecca McKanna
At first glance, Rebecca McKanna’s “Don’t Forget the Girl” may seem like another mystery thriller critiquing true crime culture — and to an extent, it is — but it stands out with its sharp edges and an unexpectedly poignant queer love story. This adds depth, transforming what could have been a straightforward thriller into something more personal and thought-provoking.
Set against a Midwest backdrop that rings true — unlike other recent attempts to capture the region (looking at your “All the Colors of the Dark”) — McKanna's portrayal feels authentic, filled with the kind of cultural references and small details that bring its Iowa setting to life.
At its core, the novel tackles uncomfortable truths about media manipulation and the ethics of true crime. While these themes echo those found in another Rebecca M. novel published around the same time, each offers a distinct perspective and storyline. Rather than drawing comparisons, it's fair to say if you enjoyed one, you’ll appreciate the other – there’s plenty of room for both.
McKanna highlights how the focus on the murderer often overshadows the victims, like 18-year-old Abby Hartmann, a University of Iowa freshman. Unlike many detached true crime stories, “Girl” offers a more personal perspective through three narrators, each grappling with their own trauma.
The novel's dual timeline — alternating between 2003 and 2015 — unfolds Abby’s story gradually, and for a debut, McKanna skillfully paces the narrative, balancing clues, red herrings and introspection to keep readers hooked. Ultimately, “Girl” is about the relationships between Bree, Chelsea and Abby, rather than the crime itself. McKanna does a great job developing the complex history between these women, showing how much what happened to them at 18 has stunted who they are in their 30s.
Each of the three narrators is given a well-developed storyline: Abby, before her disappearance, is grappling with her sexuality, while her best friends face unresolved guilt, and the lingering effects of early 2000s sexism heightened by the media frenzy after Abby’s disappearance. While McKanna primarily focuses on the survivors, it’s the chapters with Abby that makes this standout amongst its thematic peers.
This is a deeply queer novel, which pleasantly surprised me. Chelsea and Abby’s romantic relationship is handled with care, and it resonated with me on a personal level — having also been a closeted college student in 2003 navigating similar feelings and experiences (thankfully without the murder). This element alone made the story far more poignant and emotional than I anticipated.
Despite these strengths, some narrative elements grow tiresome. Chelsea is repeatedly criticized for visiting Abby's killer in prison, and while her reasons are complex, the ongoing backlash she faces feels overdone. Similarly, the discussions about true crime podcasts and media fascination with killers sometimes drag on, losing their initial bite as the novel progresses.
That said, McKanna does an excellent job building tension and atmosphere. The creepy theater professor, Jay (later revealed as Jon Allan Blue, Abby’s murderer and a serial killer), is both chilling and all too real, particularly in his role as groomer and predator lurking in plain sight. The interludes that provide background on his other crimes — like the brutal sorority house massacre — are chilling without being gratuitous.
Most of all, I appreciated the straightforward, reliable narrative. McKanna’s characters, though flawed, come across as genuine and fully realized. Despite the novel's few weaknesses, it’s clear the author truly cared about the people she created, giving them depth and authenticity.
The audiobook, narrated by Jennifer O’Donnell, was well done, though I found the choppy edits distracting at times. Despite that, it’s still a solid way to experience the story, which is definitely worth the time.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): 3/5 stars
Format: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: October 6 – October 12, 2024
Multi-tasking: Good to go. Once you understand the broad strokes of each narrator’s story, it is easy to follow along regardless of activity.
