This is around a 3.5 star read for me.

The story itself is quite captivating, as we follow five different women who are all connected by one thing—a serial killer. In the late 1990s fifteen women were murdered, all in the same fashion, with their throats slit and a plastic bag over their heads. While such a long string of murders would usually attract media and police attention, these killing were ignored simply because many of the women were prostitutes and living on the fringes of the law. They were poor, mainly women of color, and the police felt justified in ignoring their killings because of it, which is despicable.

We follow six different women fifteen years later, as similar killings begin to happen again. The sixth perspective is of the only survivor of the original spate of murders, and her story spans the fifteen years from the original crimes to the "present day" of the book. My main issue with this book is that I couldn't really connect with many of the characters. I especially felt that the first two perspectives were really guarded and choppy. It was hard for me to make sense of their stories at times, and that made it harder for me to empathize and connect with them. I finally got into a groove with the third and fourth narrators, whose chapters I felt were more honest and open to who they were.

I did especially enjoyed the sixth perspective, Feelia, who is the sole survivor. The way her narration weaves in and out of the other perspectives was quite interesting and added a lot to the story. I feel like maybe the quality of writing was a bit uneven, and maybe that accounted for my troubles with connecting to some of the characters.

I also felt the ending was a bit.. odd. While I do really dislike the final narrator (the way she thinks about life was so alien to me, and I felt could have been contextualized better if the author had delved into her personal background a bit more.. anyways), the event that happens to her in the very end of the book was just.. shocking in a bad way? Like kind of unbelievable and bizarre. It felt very out of place for a book that I would otherwise describe as very realistic and raw.

I think the story and message that Pochoda attempts to capture and emphasize here is very strong and worthy of attention. Crimes against people of color and those who might usually be ignored by the law should receive more attention and advocacy from within law enforcement, and from communities everywhere, who might rather ignore their plight. But the writing seemed inconsistent to me, and was missing a deeper emotion and truth that made it hard for me to really connect and feel this story. I liked a few of the characters, but not enough to propel this book higher in my estimation.

Can we talk about marketing? Because lately I find it's totally missing the mark, like with this book, and the misdirection can be a problem for readers.

Here's the short marketing blurb: "...a serial killer story like you’ve never seen before—a literary thriller of female empowerment and social change." The first half of that sentence is mostly correct, though also misleading. The serial killer is absolutely not the focus of this story, but more the background noise driving the anger, and occasionally the peripheral fear, of the women whose stories are told here.

"Literary" perfectly fits the writing style, but "thriller" is a definite miss on genre. These Women is crime drama, or literary drama, but not a thriller. Pacing is extremely slow. We have a lot of narrating characters, all female, living hard lives on city streets. We deep-dive into their separate stories, and we only see a convergence of these women's lives toward the end.

Then the last part of that marketing blurb, "female empowerment and social change," led me to expect this book to feature strong women fighting for change. What we have is women beaten down by the system: prostitutes, women of color facing systemic racism, and women ignored. Yes, some of these women show strength in their everyday struggles for survival, but I wouldn't call that female empowerment, and, rather than "social change," I see the same old story of women suppressed, mistreated, and cast aside. One of the characters' persistence in hounding the police might be considered a call for social change, though that's a stretch.

Despite all that, expectations didn't kill my enjoyment. I did like the book, though I didn't love it. The writing is dark and gritty and honest, but I found the content repetitive and too disconnected. I did love the last quarter, when we finally see the connection with all these women, and the serial killer is pulled out of the shadows.

<i>"These women. These women, beautiful and wild. Out of control."</i>

YAASSS! I actually applauded when I finished this book. Kudos to you Ivy Pochoda. It's been a long time since a book has made me feel this way. Billed as a mystery but so much more. A condemnation of our society and its glossing over the violence perpetrated against women. A rally cry for the women who are foresaken, their pleas ignored. I loved the voices of these women.

Dorian - Mother of murder victim. Fifteen years later she feels as if her cries of lament are futile; her anger wasted.
Feelia - Survivor. Course in her language, she is open, honest and raw.
Juliana - Restless creative. Tired of sniffing <i>llelo</i> and working out the backrooms of bars, she tries to find her way in a world that threatens to swallow her up.

The writing caught me up at the very first page and Pochoda did not let up. She ends with this powerful message:

<blockquote><b>"You can hope and pretend. You can imagine that the world is violent and that it has nothing to do with you-that the women who die nearby are a symptom of an abstract evil, a distant one. Because to do otherwise would be overwhelming, it would undo you from the inside out, rip you apart just as badly as if you were one of the victims yourself. In fact, to do so would be unimaginable because being in the presence of that sort of violence, confronting it at the breakfast table, reaching over it to turn out the bedside light-that, well, that is impossible."</blockquote></b>

<i>Special thanks to NetGalley, Harper Collins and Ivy Pochoda for advanced access to this book.</i>

I remember I struggled with the author's other book Visitation Street. I had liked it but found it hard to get through. This one was no different. Parts of it was interesting. The reveal of the murderer was unexpected. I think it just is too slow.

I don't know how to talk about this book. With power themes of female empowerment, a serial killer, dead birds, working women of the night, and a neighborhood in Los Angeles. This is also a story about race and privilege and gentrification and change.

It's the story of women who are often not spoken of, of women who are only known at night, of women who are treated less than.

Ivy Pochoda is a powerful writer and this book is a game-changer.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

A dark and violent novel about a serial killer and what happens when the police ignore the very people who need their help most: the struggling poor, the immigrants, the girls who work the streets at night. The format of each character having her own chapter works well as the story is held together by a woman who knows each of the others. Very unsettling look at a dysfunctional neighborhood.

Thanks to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers for the ARC to read and review.

Are you really a serial killer if the women who die are invisible? These women die and society does not mourn them and the police can't be bothered looking for the killer. Shocking and unsettling, this book brings these women to life. Not an easy read, but it's power grows with each page. Give These Women their due.

These Women succeeds in the real life depiction of the vast chasm that exists between the "haves and the "have nots" and the disenfranchised parts of a California town as 4 women who walk its streets, literally, struggle with fear, alienation and untimely death. Full of graphic language and grit from the opening pages, These Women doesn't let up in making you feel for the mother whose daughter was murdered and cannot seem to move on from the devastation, try as she might to "save" other young women from the same fate and find justice for her daughter. Also generating sadness and a sense of foreboding are two other young women of the streets who see no way out and are unsure if they even want or deserve one. Add in a woman detective who grew up in the same area where the murders take place and begins seeing a pattern while investigating nd you have a steaming concoction of literary prowess and lifelike scenes that will take your breath away. Did the choices These Women made put them in peril? Is there a serial killer set out to destroy them all? Why has one been followed since a brutal attack but cannot get law enforcement to act? Read These Women to find out!

These Women is a dark and gritty thriller about the lives of five women living on the margins in Los Angeles who are connected by a serial killer. Fans of twisty thrillers will enjoy this novel.

This was a fascinating character study of six women living in Los Angeles. Split between the years 1999 and 2014, bear witness to the lives of These Women that move within or adjacent to L.A.’s darker underbelly.

I hadn’t heard of Ivy Pochoda before picking this one up, but she’s a beautiful writer, even when writing about sinister subject matter. She really nailed the distinct voices of each woman in their respective chapters. Dorian, Julianna, Essie, Marella, Anneke and Feelia exist in the vicinity of one another, but their worlds very rarely overlap. That is, until they’re forced into proximity by the heinous acts of a man seemingly unknown to them.

While this might fit into the Mystery/Thriller genre, if you’re looking for something you can ‘solve’, this probably won’t be it. The answer of who is behind all of the murders is pretty obvious once you get a decent way into the novel. But that’s part of it, the fact that the audience knows who is responsible. It ups the tension and refocuses you’re attention. This is not the story of the-guy-who-did-it, but of the women who fell into his path. He is only consequential in the ways in which he affected them.

There’s a lot at play in this book. Who does society care about? What types of people are expected to ‘fall through the cracks’? What types of privilege allow These Men to get away with acts of violence over and over again? Why do we insist on holding women responsible for the crimes of the men around them? The author is smart in how she asks these questions, then backs away to let the reader try to answer them.

These Women was gritty and addicting. It’s probably not going to be heart-racing, but there’s a lot to mull over even after you’ve finished it. I can tell it’s going to be one of those works that lingers for days. And I’m definitely interested in discovering what else Pochoda has come out with.

Thank you to HarperCollins Publishers and NetGalley for this ebook to read and review.

This book is slow to develop, but once it hits it’s flow, it is hard to put down. Initially, it’s about women in the margins. Women who stand on the corners and walk the streets in the middle of the night. Women who dance for men who don’t look them in the eyes. Women who want power, think they have it, and a serial killer strikes. And no one listens. It’s a dark book, not for everyone. Pochoda has a way of weaving all the different stories together that when you finish, you wonder how she did it.

This book had me at "literary thriller of female empowerment"! I was really excited to read this one. Now that I've read it, I'm not 100% sure what to think. I guess... I wanted to love this book more than I did.

The writing is hard and sharp. Lots of edges and punchy sentences. Powerful themes, just as promised. A deep dive into the harsh lives of women who don't get choices. Women who are cast away by society. Women whose deaths seem to matter to authorities as little as their lives did. The book does a fantastic job of portraying the struggle and the endless cycle of poverty. It's heavy, which made it hard to read, but it's also necessarily so, given the subject matter.

And yet... the mystery/thriller part felt a bit lacking. The suspense didn't carry me through as much as I would've liked and the mystery wraps up very suddenly and with very little build-up.

I think that if you go into this one looking for a general/literary fiction story with a strong commentary on our society's priorities and the way we treat POC women, you'll likely find this book thought-provoking and powerful. However, if you're looking for something a bit more thrilling, you may find yourself somewhat disappointed.

Thank you Harper Collins and Netgalley for providing a free advanced e-copy in exchange for an honest review.

In 1999 a serial killer left 13 victims, most of them prostitutes, in south central LA and then disappeared. Twenty years later he may be back. These Women is told by five different women; all of whose lives have been touched by the killer. Each woman brings a distinct point of view as they cope with a harsh life while trying to hold onto hope for the future. It is a powerful story, well told but not easy to read.
I received an ARC copy from netgalley. The opinions are my own.

I’m judging a 2020 fiction contest. It’d be generous to call what I’m doing upon my first cursory glance—reading. I also don’t take this task lightly. As a fellow writer and lover of words and books I took this position—in hopes of being a good literary citizen. My heart aches for all the writers who have a debut at this time. What I can share now is the thing that held my attention and got this book from the perspective pile into the read further pile.
. . . how do you survive, how do you make it through?
Always listen to the women.
—Sesshu Foster, “Taylor’s Question”

That’s right. The epigraph is what has got me to read further. What a great justification for the title. And also, Los Angeles, and South L.A. I liked the bit about people not noticing the flower in South L.A. I will say that I was unclear which Little Rock the narrator was from. There’s a Little Rock Arkansas, but there is also a Little Rock out in San Bernardino about 90 miles from South L.A. and I imagine there are a ton more Little Rocks. I found the opening lines gripping. The rhythm and cadence of the language. I’m curious whether or not this voice will be sustained throughout the novel, but I will read on to find out.

An immersive and gritty reading experience. Never been to LA, I'm a small town girl, but man did the city come alive for me through the fictional eyes of the women in this novel. It's insane (and something I've not thought of before) that most "thrillers" focus on crimes against women, but are from the point of view of men/ readers looking into the "minds of the perp". This is female-centric and refreshing, though dark. I loved it. 05.19.2020

Such great book. A very well written dark story. I’ve loved all of Ivy Pochoda’s books but this one is her best yet. These Women is a book every thriller fan should read!

These Women tackles the difficult subject of a serial killer and the women who are killed, or are otherwise affected by the killings. It contains strong characters who are well developed and the various plot lines are very interesting. But, the subject matter is difficult to read about.

This is an outstanding novel, riveting and deeply human. There are horrors lurking in the shadows, but the character exploration across multiple narrators never plays second fiddle to the mystery threading together the sections. Like the women it depicts, the book surprises on many levels. From plot to perspective to character revelations, it provides plenty of moments that reflect one moment I recall in particular, when a phone camera captures the change of a face that doesn't know its being watched. It's a murder mystery to its core, but one that brings us closer to the targets victims more than almost any other crime novel I've read.

Perhaps most impressively, the structure of following multiple narrators works to advance the novel's plot in a way that heightens tension and novelizes the whodunit element. We want to know more about these women more than we want to know who is behind the killing spree, and as the pages of each section diminish a real feeling of dread grabs at your throat. I broke out in chills on several occasions. I can't recommend it enough.

Note: A promotion from the publisher through NetGalley allowed me to glimpse an advance edition of this book, which was recommended by the excellent Steph Cha in the L.A. Times. She was 100% right--this was a highly satisfying read that I'll be thinking about for a long time.

There is a moment near the end of These Women, by Ivy Pochoda, when a character has to explain her art. This character, Marella, creates audiovisual pieces using found photographs. Her piece, “Dead Body #3,” features photos taken by a woman who is later found murdered. The photos the murdered woman took perfectly captured the life she and her crew lived as exotic dancers and sex workers. Marella explains the images and her art in terms of how the audience is supposed to feel the violence that was inflicted on these women. The way that Marella steals their images is the latest in a long line of people taking advantage if them. Reading Marella’s intellectualization of her art really brought home for me the way that society thinks of these women—sex workers, especially those who have been murdered—as disposable, degraded, and despicable. These Women is a ferociously powerful and moving novel.

Unlike traditional procedural and mystery novels, most of These Women happens on the periphery of a series of serial murders. There are clues scattered throughout the novel, but I wasn’t focused on putting them together. Instead, I got lost in the pitch-perfect thoughts of Pochoda’s cast. The women who tell this story are astonishingly real. All of them are lost in their own, often frantic thoughts. One of them, Dorian, lives a half-life as a grieving mother whose daughter was killed by the serial killer. Another is a sex worker, Julianna, who is struggling to find a way out of the life. Later, the narrative shifts to an LAPD Vice detective named Perry with a fractured mind that works like a crossword puzzle writer. Her determination to solve the killer’s old and new murders might be a way for her to finally prove that she’s a good cop. The last narrators, one a woman with a terrible secret (Anneke) and another who is the sole survivor (Feelia), have extraordinary chapters—ones that finally put all the pieces together.

As I became absorbed in the narratives in These Women, I constantly thought about the concept of the “less-dead.” This term, which I learned about from listening to true crime podcasts but one that I know is much older, refers to homeless people, poor people of color, sex workers, drug users, who never seem to get the appropriate attention from law enforcement and the media. The women who don’t get to tell their stories in These Women, yet who are the catalyst for the entire story, are the less-dead. They never got the attention they needed. So many of them were brutally murdered and, years later, in the novel’s present, more died. None of them deserved it. No one deserved that death. But, from the perspective of most of the narrators, these women some how did something to deserve being murdered, because they were sex workers. These Women, and Marella’s fictional art that is featured therein, puts the spotlight right on our societal scorn.

These Women knocked me flat. This book is seriously one of the most powerful books I think I’ve ever read. It has so much to say and it does it all in a realistic, organic way that highlights the author’s ability to create characters that jump right off the page. I cannot praise this book highly enough.

I felt very conflicted by this book because I didn't care for somet of the characters but was still intrigued by their stories and how well-written they were. The ending was a bit off for me, but I still felt that I enjoyed the book overall.