


So, MacMillan turned The Girls into a real podcast, which is wild. What does that say about me? I’m not saying it’s right or wrong. It’s really hard to cast a light on this oftentimes dark and unyielding world. You have to entertain an audience, keep them coming back. They’ve been brutalized, victimized, turning them into a podcast effectively objectifies them. So many women are at the center of these stories. You get to the point where you’re listening to true crime and wondering: “How well do we serve victims? What is the personal cost of telling those stories? What’s the emotional impact?” We’re consuming acts of violence as a form of entertainment, especially as it relates to female pain. I love the true-crime category it’s so committed to the search for truth and justice.Īnd then Serial came out.

What made you decide to integrate a true-crime podcast into Sadie?

I had to talk to Summers about this intriguing storytelling structure, books for dark times, and whether she prefers cake or pie. The central question of whether Sadie will find her sister’s killer is paired with another question: Will the podcast’s team catch up with her before she does, and if they do, will it be too late? The story is told in alternating chapters that follow the eponymous protagonist as she vanishes from her hometown to seek revenge on the man who killed her little sister, and a true-crime podcast, The Girls, that’s investigating Sadie’s disappearance. In many ways, Courtney Summers’s latest book, Sadie (out on September 4), keeps with the rest of her YA oeuvre: It’s a dark, provocative story about childhood sexual assault, murder, revenge, flawed people, and the sexism with which society views-and harms-women and girls. Courtney Summers (Photo credit: Megan Gunter)
