There seems to be a lot of confusion among authors, publishers, and audiences these days about what, exactly, is "true crime." So let's revisit the basic definition of "true crime." What is the "true crime genre" exactly? There is a proper legal definition. At least, a common-law definition that attorneys such as your correspondent would consider binding and definitive.
For authority besides my own, I rely on an excellent book from the CLEWS library, Advocates of murder: Ten authentic cases of lawyers who murdered by Charles Boswell and Lewis Thompson, published by Collier Books of New York in 1962. It is a book by lawyers about lawyers tried for murder. You can bet that when writing a true crime book about a lawyer-defendant, you had better get your facts straight, as you are both familiar with the laws of libel. Advocates of Murder by Boswell and Thompson sets forth the definition of a "case study." And it is the "case study" that is the backbone of "true crime."
From the book: "Between the covers of this book are ten case histories of lawyers who turned lawless - who became, in fact, killers. The case histories comprise precisely what the phrase denotes. They are narratives which are not fiction, but authentic accounts of actual crimes, with the material largely taken from court records and police files, and with the dates, the incidents, and the names of localities and principal characters just as they appeared officially, true and unchanged."
In short - a true crime book needs to be, first and foremost, TRUE. There should be zero guessing, supposing, or assuming, and if there is, it should be labeled, and even so, it's unsightly. I hate it when authors make up details. Point of view errors are usually the giveaway. If I wanted to read fiction, I would read fiction.
I recently tried to read a true crime book that was obviously fictionalized with awful results. It purported to be a case study of Carolyn Warmus, an infamous femme fatale from Michigan who is a contender for the best dressed murder defendant of all time. That's her from the cover of the book about her case. She wears peach business separates with black hose for the start of her trial for murder. Not the typical courtroom attire, to say the least. She has served her sentence now and is a free woman. She is still remembered in her home state, where she embarrasses the University of Michigan by appearing as an alumna on its rolls. Someone at a library lecture on local criminal history told me that she is still much discussed. Her family used to send out Christmas cards that said "Warmus Wishes for the Holidays." If I thought she would give me an interview, I would love to write an updated book about her. Because the only book in existence about her case is the abjectly awful Lovers of deceit by Mike Gallagher, who was doing a bad Truman Capote impression instead of a case study. I gave up on his bad writing and had to skim to the end. Well, I didn't give up until 250 pages into it, truth be told. Because hey, it's an interesting case, and even a bad true crime book is better than none.
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