I must have witnessed hundreds of murders before I turned ten. If you walked into my house at any one time during my childhood, chances were there was some true crime show — 48 Hours, Forensic Files, Unsolved Mysteries — playing on the tube. We never actively sought these programs out, they were just … there, on A&E or TLC, the kind of entertainment that you just point your eyeballs at for 30 minutes as you relax. For the longest time, I turned my nose up at these shows; they were base, tacky and even disrespectful, but I still watched. I mean, these people had died, and often their killer had never been caught.