This book was read at Kalimna, Yeranda cottages, near Dungog in early January 2025.
Once upon a time, a certain reader devoured all of Agatha Christie’s novels in one roughly year-long go at the suggestion of his book-loving dad who saw the works of the masterful English crime writer as a great bridge between the books of his childhood and those of his impending teenage- and adulthood.
But despite loving the works of Christie, and enjoying the crime genre – though he couldn’t be bothered lining up all the clues to figure out the murderer; many crime readers love this, I know, but it distracted from the sheer pleasure of reading for me – it wasn’t an area of literature that captured me going forward for reasons I still can’t quite fathom.
A few years ago, however, thanks to the urging a friend who almost solely reads crime novels, I began to wander into that section of the bookstore once again, and while the heavier-themed books in the genre still carried no interest, those in the emerging cosy and quirky crime sub-genres well and truly made me stop and look twice.
And thus, was born my love of quirkily-titled crime novels such as today’s candidate, The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco by Michelle Chouinard, which is one of the most compelling members of this sub-genre that I’ve read to date.
Possessed of a title as playful as it is quirky, The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco continues a trend of being mischievously titular while going hard and deep on some very intense themes.
She felt no need to pause and choose hers. ‘You’ve lived off my son for twenty-five years now, Capri, and I should have put my foot down long ago. It’s one thing to marry up in the world, it’s another to hang on to the other side of that family after a divorce like a barnacle that can’t be scraped off.’
With that, she hung up on me.
Not as hard and deep as the more gritty members of the genre but still, there’s a lot in the novel, from familial angst to the indolent corruption of the wealthy elite through to the effects that crime has on a family, not just immediately but down through the generations, that gives it an emotional heft that the title might not immediately suggest.
The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco also benefits from Chouinard’s gift for creating complex and interesting characters with gripping backstory and complicated present who are essential to a story of this type getting narrative wings and flying.
And fly it most certainly does, in ways that will surprise and delight and yes, emotionally impact you.
The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco is described on the back cover as “Only Murders in the Building meets Vertigo meets Gilmore Girls” (courtesy of author Catriona McPherson, author of the Last Ditch mysteries) and while I don’t usually refer to other people’s reviews in my own, it rather nicely capture the mix of levity and seriousness that pervades each page of a novel that goes dark fairly quickly, it’s intense plot kept buoyant by some fine characterisation and some very light and jaunty lines which inject just enough fun to keep those of us in the quirky crime field paying attention.
And pay attention you will; as Capri Sanzio, born and bred in the Bay City, and owner of a business dedicated to taking people on serial killers tours of the city (hence the title), starts delving into a very personal current murder mystery while trying to research an historical one right at the heart of her family, you will not be able to look away.
(courtesy official author site)
Part of that rapt attention comes down to some very fine writing that deftly combines the playfully relational – Capri’s partner in the business, longtime friend Heather, and employee Ryan, are lots of fun bringing a cool Scooby-Doo! vibe to proceedings – with some very serious sleuthing.
One of the victims of the latest rash of serial killing in the city is Capri’s own ex-mother-in-law, Sylvia Clement, a socialite who for years has paid for her granddaughter Morgan (Capri’s daughter) to go through university and post-grad studies until one day, with no warning, she suddenly stops.
No one knows why, and Capri and Morgan are both equally surprised and angry, and make no secret of the fact, which means that when Sylvia’s body turns up mangled and broken in Presidio Park, just days after fellow socialite, Katherine Harper, they move right to the front of the pack of suspects being considered by the San Francisco Police and by its lead detective on the case who’s interest in Capri may be more than professional.
Not helping matters is that Capri is the granddaughter of infamous series killer, William Sanzio aka Overkill Bill, a fact that makes all the more attractive as a suspect to the police but which also might give the opportunity to find the money to pay for Morgan’s tuition alone, courtesy of a podcast and book dedicated to clearing the good name of her grandfather.
Without warning, the emotions I’d managed to control so well over the last few days overwhelmed me. Wailing like an injured animal, I sank into Morgan’s bed and pulled her comforter over me, soaking in the smell of her, my sobs shaking her bed and my tears soaking her pillow.
That’s a lot going on but The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco never once feels weighted down by either the complexity of its plot or some of the heavy themes it encompasses.
In fact, for a novel that tackles as much as it does from generational trauma through to the effects of crime on everyone from victims’ families to those of the perpetrator, The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco feels remarkably sprightly and engaging, a buoyant piece of writing that goes to some dark places without leaving you feeling emotionally leaden.
You fly through the pages of the book because you love the characters, because the plot is full of fascinating twists and turns and because all the serious stuff finds sweet counterpoint in some light and sometimes very funny moments.
It’s an enormously classy and yes, even charming novel, that lives in the past and present with equal alacrity, and which serves up some fairly intense crime and ramifications of those crimes without once getting so bogged down that those of us who like our crime genre with a dash of playful quirkiness feel like we get more than we signed up for.
As quirky crime novels go, The Serial Killer’s Guide to San Francisco is a pure joy, thrillingly complex and yet buoyantly alive too (yes, the irony of using that word does not escape me), full of some deeply intense moments but also bubbly one-liners and rich friendship too that is a more than worthy addition to the sub-genre and exactly the kind of novel you want to read on holiday (which is where this reviewer read it) where you want escape but also meaning too.