Before I read this book I had been familiar with Tim Cahill's writing for Outside magazine. I'm not really sure what drew me to read this account of the horrific crimes of John Wayne Gacy, but in some respects I wish I had not. During the period I read this I was interested in what made these type of killers tick, but I don't know if that's even possible. Cahill is a fine writer and maybe that part of the problem. Scenes from this book that I'd rather forget still come back to me sometimes. The true crimes of John Wayne Gacy are more disturbing than anything Stephen King could think up. These days movies like Hostel and Saw seem to indicate that people are now entertained by sadistic torture. The current entertainment value of torture, ultimate fighting and war disturbs me as much as having to read the accounts of Gacy burying boys in his basement.