Clara Johnson Award in Women's Literature Storytrade Nonfiction Book of the Year Pencraft Best Book Award in Nonfiction - Memoir Readers Choice Gold Award for Best Adult Book Independent Author Award in New NonFiction Independent Author Award in True Crime An Independent Book Review Must-Read A Foreword INDIES Finalist in Grief/Grieving A Kirkus Reviews Indie Worth Discovering In 1982, twenty-five-year-old Angie Boggs, pregnant with her second child, was brutally murdered, along with her husband and infant son. Ill equipped for the horror of that violence and the enormity of her loss, Angie's sister Ona, a college sophomore, felt numb. She also felt deeply ashamed of her inability to grieve. But shame, like her sister's absence, was something Ona knew well. For as long as she could remember, she'd felt ashamed of being their parents' blatantly favored child. The disabled daughter they'd coddled and protected while they alternately punished and neglected Angie, and finally sent her away. It wasn't until thirty years after the murders, both their parents gone and Ona nearly twice the age Angie was allowed to reach, that she developed the courage and a detective's compulsion to learn all she could about her sister's turbulent life and unthinkable death. The result is Everywhere I Look , a beautifully rendered memoir of sisterhood, longing, true crime, and family secrets. A profoundly moving reckoning and love letter. ... This is a remarkably cohesive, genre-defying memoir that is at once a beautiful love letter and a haunting true-crime investigation. A poignant, gripping story of love, memory, and physical and psychological brutality. —Kirkus Reviews A stunning and deeply moving exploration of grief and healing, beautifully told by Gritz with raw honesty and vulnerability. (Gold Award winner/ 5 Star Review) —Reader's Choice Award Everywhere I Look is a gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, and wildly fascinating story about families and the secrets that destroy them. It is sure to stick with you. (Starred Review) —Independent Book Review This beautifully crafted story is devastating and yet hopeful, a reminder that the truth really can set you free. — Jane Bernstein, author of Bereft Everywhere I Look is a testament to the love between sisters, the difficulty of understanding ourselves within the sometimes confusing context of our families, and the power of confronting the past to create the possibility of peace, and even forgiveness." — Andrea J. Buchanan, author of The Beginning of Everything Everywhere I Look is a stunningly beautiful and fearless unraveling of one family's party line, and a testament to the deep love between sisters—still just as ardent, tender, and devoted decades beyond death — Lilly Dancyger, author of Negative Space Everywhere I Look is a profound and beautifully written memoir whose layers unfold to reveal a devastating series of family secrets and a grisly true crime tragedy. Gritz is masterful at recreating on the page the sister she lost, while illuminating the psychological complexity of family relationships. — Helen Fremont, author of The Escape Artist Everywhere I Look is testament and testimony, a sister's transformative journey toward bringing a heartbreaking past into the glimmering light. — Beth Kephart, author of Wife
Daughter
Self This story of sister-love is a truly stunning and emotionally authentic exploration of sorrow and grief. — Sue William Silverman, author of How to Survive Death and Other Inconveniences This is a book that will take hold of your emotions — and, if you're willing, change you. — Rachel Simon, author of Riding the Bus with My Sister Excerpt As it happened, that summer, 1986, the Hendersons were finally sentenced. The morning of their hearing, I entered the San Francisco Hall of Justice wearing black cotton Mary Janes. When the guard waved his metal detecting rod near my feet, the tiny buckles beeped. He grinned and waved me through. I slid onto a hard bench at the back of the courtroom and listened while several people were given their sentences for smaller crimes. A robbery. An assault. After what felt like a long time, the Hendersons were brought in. There, a mere few feet away, was the same ill-matched couple I remembered. Philip: tattooed, slim, and handsome. Velma: weathered and harsh-looking but for her long shiny hair. I studied the Hendersons, neither of whom ever looked my way, trying to see the thing inside them that would let them kill a young pregnant woman, a sweet bear of a man, an infant. Monsters, I thought. But they appeared ordinary in their prison suits that fit like kid's pajamas. Velma even wore a plastic baby barrette in her hair. The two of them stood, hands cuffed behind their backs, calmly awaiting their fates. Finally, the judge spoke. "For the murder of Raymond Martin Boggs II. For the murder of Andrea Gritz Boggs. For the murder of Raymond Martin Boggs III.
Daughter
Self This story of sister-love is a truly stunning and emotionally authentic exploration of sorrow and grief. — Sue William Silverman, author of How to Survive Death and Other Inconveniences This is a book that will take hold of your emotions — and, if you're willing, change you. — Rachel Simon, author of Riding the Bus with My Sister Excerpt As it happened, that summer, 1986, the Hendersons were finally sentenced. The morning of their hearing, I entered the San Francisco Hall of Justice wearing black cotton Mary Janes. When the guard waved his metal detecting rod near my feet, the tiny buckles beeped. He grinned and waved me through. I slid onto a hard bench at the back of the courtroom and listened while several people were given their sentences for smaller crimes. A robbery. An assault. After what felt like a long time, the Hendersons were brought in. There, a mere few feet away, was the same ill-matched couple I remembered. Philip: tattooed, slim, and handsome. Velma: weathered and harsh-looking but for her long shiny hair. I studied the Hendersons, neither of whom ever looked my way, trying to see the thing inside them that would let them kill a young pregnant woman, a sweet bear of a man, an infant. Monsters, I thought. But they appeared ordinary in their prison suits that fit like kid's pajamas. Velma even wore a plastic baby barrette in her hair. The two of them stood, hands cuffed behind their backs, calmly awaiting their fates. Finally, the judge spoke. "For the murder of Raymond Martin Boggs II. For the murder of Andrea Gritz Boggs. For the murder of Raymond Martin Boggs III.