“When school kids are shot by a random shooter, nobody asks whether the victims should have taken more precautions. Nobody suggests that maybe the victims should have skipped school that day. Nobody ever blames the victims. So why is it that when women are attacked, the onus is on them? “If only she hadn’t walked home alone.” “If only she hadn’t cut through the park.” “If only she’d taken a cab.” When it comes to rape, it seems to me “if only” is used all the time. Never about the man. Nobody ever says “if only” he hadn’t raped her. It’s always about the woman. If only …”

Rachel Krall hosts a true crime podcast “Guilty or Not Guilty” with a wide fan following. The third season of her podcast takes her to the small town of Neapolis where she is reporting on a rape trial in real-time. A popular local boy, Scott Blair, a talented swimmer with Olympic potential is on trial for brutally raping a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl.

We follow Rachel as she explores the town of Neapolis on a fact-finding mission of her own, gathering information on the victim and the accused and their families while also trying to gauge how the residents feel about the incident and the trial. The town is divided on their opinions on the matter and a lot rests on the victim’s testimony – a child who will have to relive the horrific episode of her life as she testifies while the defense tries to discredit her and prove that she is lying.
Parallel to covering the rape trial, Rachel is also drawn into looking into the death of a young girl from 25 years ago. Hannah Stills reaches out to Rachel through strategically placed letters and messages requesting her to help bring her sister Jenny’s killers to justice. While official records indicate that Jenny died from drowning, Hannah insists that her sister was murdered. Initially reluctant, Rachel eventually agrees and embarks on uncovering what really happened all those years ago.

As Rachel tries to strike a balance between her current podcast and coverage of the trial and research into Jenny’s death while also trying to locate the elusive Hannah, she discovers that the small town and its influential residents harbor long-buried secrets that could not only shed a light on what happened to Jenny but also change the trajectory of the current trial.

The Night Swim by Megan Goldin is a gripping read that I found hard to put down. The author paints a sad and infuriating yet realistic picture of what victims of sexual assault have to go through in seeking justice – from cover-ups and faulty investigations to victim shaming and blaming to being humiliated on the stand. Intricately plotted and tight-knit, the narrative is shared through alternating perspectives of Hannah and Rachel with episodes of the podcast interspersed throughout the narrative. The author does a great job of bringing both threads of the plot together in a way that you do not see coming. This is the second Megan Goldin novel I’ve read ( Stay Awake was the first Goldin novel I read) and I’m eager to explore more of her work. ( )

I listened to this on audio and it didn’t disappoint. The narrators did a wonderful job and it does have a podcast setting also, which I love those elements in an audiobook. The story is almost heartbreaking and it’s told from different timelines and POVS. What happens when a girl gets raped in a small town by a boy who has a chance of making the town famous? Would murder change that scenario? It’s unfortunate how so many people will turn a blind eye to such deviant behavior for their own gain! I’m rating this 4-4.5 stars. Can’t wait to read more! ( )

Rachel Krall’s true crime podcast, Guilty or Not Guilty, has taken off in the two years since its inception, primarily because she exonerated a man who was wrongly convicted of a crime. In order to keep the podcasts fresh and her ratings up, she needs to do something new. So, rather than concentrate on cold cases, she decides to visit the small coastal town of Neapolis, North Carolina, the site of an upcoming rape trial. Her goal is to sit in on the trial, take notes and report to her listeners in close to real time, the progress of the trial. She hopes to tell fans what really happens in such a trial.
Eighteen-year-old Scott Blair, town hero, boy wonder, Olympic swimming hopeful is accused of sexual battery and rape of sixteen-year-old Kelly Moore. He, of course, professes his innocence. The Blairs are a big name in town, owning several local retirement villages. The Moores, on the other hand, are an average family.
The book starts out with Rachel deciding to make a spontaneous pit stop on the long drive to Neapolis. She pulls into a random rest stop for a coffee to keep her awake. Emerging from the diner she sees a note tucked into her windshield wiper, addressed specifically to her. Having taken great pains to keep her identity secret, it is disturbing that someone knew who she was and which car was hers. Looking around, she sees no one lurking.
The note is from Hannah Stills, entreating her to help find the killer of her sister, Jenny. Twenty-five years ago, sixteen-year-old Jenny’s body was found submerged in the ocean and while the official ruling was accidental death by drowning, Hannah knows in her heart that Jenny was murdered. Hannah had emailed the podcast several times before and each time had received a polite “thanks but no thanks.” She feels Rachel is her last hope.
Rachel is prepared to brush this attempt off as she gets ready for the Blair trial but curiosity and her sense of justice are her weaknesses. As the days progress, Rachel interviews townsfolk about Scott and Kelly but Hannah is always in the back of her mind. Periodically, she’d find another note from Hannah, outlining the days leading up to Jenny’s death. Their mother was dying of cancer and after Jenny’s death, she lost all will to live. She died three weeks later, leaving Hannah alone and ultimately into foster care.
As Hannah’s narrative unfolds, the similarities between Kelly and Jenny’s situations become evident. And while public perception of rape had changed in the 25-year interim, the town still was split between Kelly having consensual sex and then regretting it to “kids will be kids” to actual rape.
There are three narrative styles in the book. The first is a third- person narrative as Rachel goes about preparing for the trial, interviewing various people associated with the plaintiff and defendant. The second is the actual podcast of the trial. The last is Hannah’s notes to Rachel describing Jenny, her family and that summer’s events.
I will tell you now that certain parts of the book are disturbing, primarily sections describing the alleged rape, the explanation of a rape kit and what rape victims must go through if they choose to report the crime. While our view of rape has changed over 25 years, in many ways it has not.
The Night Swim has received several starred reviews. One reviewer said “This thriller is really part murder mystery, part courtroom drama (and I would add psychological study of the impact on both the accuser and the accused). She continues “The reveals were well done and some were genuinely surprising. But what made this book stand out…and what made it a very difficult read at times, was how frank and unflinching Goldin is when it comes to the themes of rape in this book.”
A totally worthwhile read ( )

3.5 Stars
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Sometimes I loved this book, sometimes I felt sick at parts, and sometimes it was just downright unbelievable.

I listened to the audio and I so recommend doing it that way. I’ve read so many reviews saying that the podcast parts were boring— but the audio version really did them well I thought. I also liked there being 2 distinct voices and narrators of Rachel and Hannah. It made the story a lot better for me.

First thing on my wishlist for this book would’ve been getting to know Rachel better. Who was she besides a podcaster who apparently is better at solving crimes than anyone else? We didn’t get to know much about her other than a few things that vaguely alluded to her having a life outside of these cases.

2nd would be that I thought this went too far with the good vs evil theme. This book contains some tough scenes. Like I said, some made me feel physically ill. I felt so bad for the victims in these cases that Rachel was covering, but also, it was a little hard to believe some of it. The modern day crime was definitely believable, but the one that took place years ago? I don’t think I was buying it. I mean, I believed it happened in the book, but would that happen in real life? Unlikely. Just the way the victim was abused over and over again- basically kidnapped multiple times, victimized by so many people who weren’t even part of the same crew? I don’t buy it and it started to border on torture p!rn for me.

I would still recommend on audio because it was an experience and it did flow nicely. I think it’s worth reading, just know that there aren’t really shades of grey in this book. People are either all good or all bad to the point of pure evil. ( )

I don't read a lot of straight-up mysteries. I've read a couple Agatha Christies, a Raymond Chandler or two, books one and two of Stieg Larsson's Millennium series. Nothing like the amount I've read in other genres. I love good mystery though, just not, it would seem, in detective(-ish) fiction.

The operative word here being 'good' -- attention to detail, figure-out-able but not easily, well-crafted characters who are important to the story. The first point is the most important in my eyes. If the author's not able or willing to be detailed and accurate, how can the reader trust they're getting the information they can use to potentially figure out whodunnit?

By these measures, The Night Swim is not a good mystery. I wouldn't say it's terrible, but certainly not good. Whether through lack of will or ability, the author fails on accurate details. I can't say that I found any of the characters particularly compelling. I could've taken or left any of them. I wanted the mystery solved and convictions in both cases because the crimes they were about were terrible, not because of who they were done to.

The information she gave that should help one figure out whodunnit came late, and maybe that's okay by the conventions of the genre. I don't know. Like I said, I'm not a mystery reader.

I found the writing rather sloppy in places too, from the word level up to the level of story.

Anyhow, let me list a few examples in support of this. This is in no particular order relative to the book or any internal rating of these on my part.

Misuse of the word paraphrase (or, less charitably, doesn't know what it means).

Goldin writes:

The idea that guilt must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt dates back to the eighteenth-century British jurist Sir William Blackstone, who wrote in his seminal works that underpin our legal system: “Better that ten guilty persons escape, than that one innocent suffer.”

Studies show that rapists tend to be repeat offenders more than other criminals. They go on to rape again, at a rate of around five rapes in their lifetime. That means the ten guilty rapists who escape, to paraphrase Sir Blackstone, might go on to rape another forty innocent women. I wonder what Sir William Blackstone would say about that?

That's not paraphrasing. That's following something to a conclusion. It's "If we do that, then the consequence, if they are rapists, would be this." Paraphrasing is creating a new version using the original as a template. "Better that ten oranges rot on the branch, than one be picked too early."

I feel like she couldn't figure out what word to use and couldn't be bothered to figure that out or write it a different way.

A "hair-bend turn." No, author. "Hairpin." Because it looks like a hairpin. Hair-bend exists, though I always see it without the hyphen. It's a curling iron technique for putting waves in your hair. So, it makes no sense to say 'hair-bend turn' in the singular, because a hairbend makes a series of waves, or in metaphor, a series of (not sharp) curves in a road. And context makes it reasonably clear what's be talked about is a sharp turn.

Lawyer Mitch Alkins is a shit prosecutor. Really. We hardly ever hear him cross-examine someone, or even that he did cross-examine them. No mention of rebuttals. Meanwhile, we hear about the defending lawyer doing all these things. Plus, Alkins apparently doesn't research defense witnesses. Nor follow up on an obviously weak witness -- why doesn't he go after the character witness whose testimony was half-hearted at best? Inexplicable. (When he does bring the guy back to the stand, it's because Krall did his research work for him.) Why didn't Alkins, in doing even a cursory background check, notice that a defense witness was not, in fact, the person he claimed to be? The name was assumed recently and was of someone who had died recently. Hello? Internet anyone?

Finally, while the prosecutor has various assistants, Alkins apparently has none (aside from a nameless personal assistant who answers the phone exactly once). It's not like he's not a successful lawyer either. He could afford them. The guy's prosecuting a high-profile (at least locally) rape trial against a defender who's known to be among the best. And this is what we get? I felt like he was throwing.

Why would Goldin write Alkins this way? That's a mystery for sure.

Maybe she wanted to make her heroine smarter/better/whatever than the other characters or at least Alkins but did this by making Alkins incompetent. Okay, that's fine. But then have Krall at least be smart enough to notice Alkins is failing at his job pretty hard and confront him about it. This would've made for some good, tense interaction between Krall, Alkins, and the family. I don't know; I just keep coming back to some combination of lazy and sloppy writing.

At one point says, Goldin has a poorly educated homeless guy say that someone was 'non-responsive.' Seriously? Goldin thinks this is something this an ex-con who lives in a shack on the beach would say? Little thought seems to have been put into how many of the character spoke.

At the end, the Krall (who is a podcaster and reporter), narrates a paragraph or so about the jury deliberations. How does she know this? She shouldn't; explain how she got the info!

There is, apparently, a one-day memorial plaque-making service in Neapolis. Who knew? Seriously, ordered, received, and put in place by the next day. Come on. Cartoonish.

There's more, but you get the idea, I hope. And, sure, some of this is on the nitpicky side, but not all. The way Mitch Alkins was written is no nitpick, it's deplorable. Was Goldin not able or not willing to write good prosecutor in and of itself. Did she not want to because, if Alkins had been good at his job, it would've made Goldin's more difficult? Yeah, there's the real mystery here.

There are far better mysteries out there. Read them instead.
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