There is a law about not profiting from the sales of books in which a criminal describes her crimes. But then this book isn’t my fault. Over the years people have said to me various words — using nouns (“slut,” “vermin,” “killer,” etc.) and adjectives (“heartless,” “self-serving,” “manipulative,” etc.), and even a few conjunctions and articles (as Mary McCarthy said about Lillian Hellman — “Every word she writes is a lie, even ‘and’ and ‘the.'”) What was I supposed to do with all these words, if not make a book out of them?
The careful reader will understand, too, that the 29 stab wounds that Travis Alexander received — aren’t I clever for not using a more active sentence construction — reflect what anyone in my position would do. No doubt that 25 wouldn’t be enough. Even 26. I quote from the Book of Leviticus when I say, “An eye for an eye, a slit throat for seeing other women.”
I want to take this opportunity to thank all of my fan. (My mother, maybe.) And to the prosecutor, Juan Martinez, whose anger made me a star. I also want to thank my defense “team” of Jennifer Willmott, and Kirk Nurmi, who doesn’t like me nine days out of ten. But what do you expect from a man who can’t see his belt buckle?
There is a real victim here, and you are reading her story now. By the way, proceeds from this book will go to the Jodi Arias Foundation For A New Porsche Once I’m Out Of This Joint.