A GIRL CALLED MURDER - Review

Title: A Girl Called Murder

Author: Kennedy Cannon

Goodreads Link

Rating: 5*

"They called us a murder, as in crows."

As a reader, I've read some bizarre books, some incredible ones, some questionable ones, and there are different ones. I've never figured out what makes them different but I always identify the feeling. No matter the subject, no matter the genre or theme, the writing always instils an overall calm feeling as I read it. As someone who suffers with anxiety, sometimes books can trigger an anxious response relating to my own anxious points. There were some points touched on in this book yet the calming effect chased away that and left me with this stillness to read. That's what happened when I read just the first page of A GIRL CALLED MURDER, and I knew I was in for one of the best reads of 2019--and was not disappointed.

I feel like if VE Schwab and Maggie Stiefvater had a lovechild book, you would get this book. It had all the dark, questionable aspects I've previously loved in a VE Schwab book, and all the there-ness of a Stiefvater book. (In the sense of when something bizarre happens, it's just there, it's normal, no explanation needed.) Tannyn Carter can grasp and wield fears, creating nightmares for anyone who antagonises her. It's portrayed as a quality she just has and often accidentally uses. There's never a reason as to why or how she can do this; she just does, and I really liked that about the story. It's magical realism at it's best: normalising this girl with a weird and fascinating thing about her.

Tannyn is surrounded by her "murder of crows", her four best friends: Jack, West, Theodore, and Eve--until Eve is brutally murdered--the irony, of course, is not lost. Each of the "crows" has a nickname, or a distinguishable feature. Tannyn has her nightmares, Theodore can bring his sister Eve back to life time and time again, Eve has her blonde hair and fearsome nature, West is the ever-present boy who is always there, and Jack is has the biggest heart of them all. After Eve's death, the murder of crows are at a loss, going through one faint motion to the next, stumbling through different parties just to take their minds off the death.

(Spoiler part) Until Theodore confesses his secret, and, therefore, his sister, Eve's reappearance. Through her return, the crows try to find her murderer--which turns into an incredible plot twist you never see coming. (Well, I didn't.) (End of spoiler)

There are two things that jumped out at me in this book: LGBTQ+ representation, and discernible smells of characters. That's how Tannyn sees the world: through their fears, and often those fears came with smells: smoke, chardonnay, hospitals, sugar, thunder storms, whiskey. Often those thoughts came paired with some sort of visual, to add depth to the fear Tannyn could wield, if she chose. Along with smells came subtle representation; as in, it wasn't made a "big deal" like others like to do when they think they're presenting the LGBTQ+ Community with something. In A GIRL WITH MURDER, there were at least six characters (four in the main circle of protagonists, the other two in a cannon relationship) shown in general terms of identifying. West was mentioned as having a chest binder, which I took to mean he was transgender; I felt like Jack was hinted at being bisexual due to several scenes, as well as Tannyn and Eve; and then there was the actual cannon gay relationship between Tannyn's older brother and his boyfriend. There was no stigma; just people, as it should be.

The way Kennedy Cannon has wound her book into this intricate, dark story was clever. It was a read I thoroughly enjoyed, and would happily reread over and over, just to spot more tiny details. The symbolism was wonderful and the meanings behind that was fun to read. The group of five friends was a comforting dynamic to learn and read about, making me yearn for the ups and downs of the Raven Boys, and the romance plaited into the bigger story left me always wanting more. It was the sort of push-pull romance that had me wanting them to just get together, whilst loving the teasing nature of it not being official.


A GIRL WITH MURDER is dark, twisty, and a very intense story, and you all should basically read it.

What They Didn't Say

They never asked
what I wanted,
or how I felt going this place or that place.
They never asked
why my grades were slipping,
dragging a future down with them.

They asked weighted questions with fear in their eyes
and when they never understood my words
they turned to other things:
my phone was taken off me,
pictures were taken of my legs,
privacy: invaded.

I stuffed so much of the truth down my throat
because I hated the anger, the questions
rather than the softness I needed after the hardships.
I dragged myself back up but tumbled right back down
into a pit I couldn't even name.

Then I dragged and I cried and I punched pillows,
until one day I could say,
I've been one whole year clean
and for someone who had barely gone an hour without the desire
coursing through their entire being
It was a triumph.

I spent that summer working, revising, learning how to function without this need in me--learning how to live with it without caving to it.
I got my grades, I got my certificate, I moved to college.
The sun cracked through: I laughed, I went out, I saw a future right there laid out.
My hardships had ended.

Or so I thought.
It crashed around me sometime three years ago, yanked away before I could blink.
Another thing took root, a thing that had a voice and a face in my mind.

It told that if I left my house the world would end.
It told me that if I tried I would regret it.
It whispered anxiety through my body, spiders crawling over my skin.
It breathed panic into my lungs.

I swallowed my words, met with offense when I talked about it.
So I stayed,
and I hid,
and I'd never hated myself so much as I did watching my life slip away and feeling so helpless.

My friends, leaving one by one, when i couldn't see them.
The voice told me they were bad to me, anyway.
My prospects, dwindling.
The voice told me the pressure was now off.
Until all I had was nothing.

Just me
at a desk
in my room
alone.

And nobody,
not one person said

I see you, I haven't forgotten you. I understand the darkness and I'll be here when you're ready.

Not one person saw my loneliness and said

Please let me come to see you, talk it out with me.

Everything was me: trying, crying, desperately holding on to whatever shred of life I still had.

Issues collided, I spiralled, until all that was left was an empty phone,
an empty life
and the words, you'll send me to an early grave was all I heard.

Let me take your hand
and tell you

I'll be okay

because after all this
I still believe I will.


I'll write and I'll dance and I'll laugh and I'll find genuine happiness;
but I'll remember those who left me and those who weren't there when I needed them,
those who let me slip away when I was trying to hold on.

And at the end of the day I'll smile;
That's all what will matter.