All Things Serial

Killing Time with Jaime

I had a corporate job in my twenties like a lot of twenty-somethings did or do. Even if we were just temping, we somehow, in the oughts, ended up with full time gigs as corporate cogs. It’s strange when I think about it. Like, I have so many questions surrounding the work I did for this Fortune 500 company which mainly had me reviewing candy wrappers. Reviewing for what? Color. It would drive you mad if you knew how much time was spent on the blue ink of a candy bar wrapper. Did you see the film CLOCKWATCHERS? It felt just like that movie. BUT, it wasn’t 1997, it was 2007 and I had the internet. And without thinking twice about it, I spent most of the day researching serial killers. Not their crimes, but the disorders that made them murder. I was intrigued by the stories that came from the people that had encountered these real life monsters in their life.

In fact, a woman I worked with told me about the time her aunt had been dating Richard Ramirez aka the Night Stalker. The woman would never forget the Thanksgiving dinner her aunt brought Ramirez to and how badly he smelled. A smell that lingered long after he had left the house. She was ten or eleven, but she couldn’t forget the way his presence in the home made her feel. Bad. A very bad feeling. It was really that simple. But the question is - what did her aunt ever see in this man? Why would she have dated him?

Well, our next guest on Killing Time is an incredible true crime writer and researcher, Susan Methven, whose research on serials will be something you’ll want to read, so stay tuned for that. In the meantime, let’s get into it!

1. Tell me about a crime (or noir crime) podcast, book, film or TV show that made you think: “Damn. That’s the tone I’m always chasing.”

I have a feeling that is a popular answer to this question, but if I had to choose, I would say Serial season 1. Prior to Serial’s release, I had read plenty of great true‑crime books before and admired the time and energy spent researching and telling the story, but I never imagined I’d enjoy a podcast or audiobook. Growing up, I couldn’t stand talk radio, even the morning shows where the hosts thought they were hilarious just irritated me.

But Serial was different. Hearing Sarah Koenig walk us through the case, step by step, sharing her research, her doubts, and her process completely changed how I felt about audio storytelling. It didn’t feel like talk radio at all; it felt like being pulled into a living investigation.

Because of that, I now spend far more time listening to podcasts than music, whether I’m getting ready for the day or sitting in traffic. It opened a whole new lane of storytelling for me.

2. What is most important in a great crime story: the crime, the setting, or the damage left behind?

I don’t think a great crime story can separate the crime, the setting, or the damage left behind. They’re all intertwined. The crime is always the center of gravity, the tragedy that pulls every other element into orbit. It’s what we’re trying to understand: the motive, the moment, the choice that made something unthinkable happen.

But the setting matters just as much, because it shapes how the story unfolds. The environment holds the evidence, the context, the social dynamics, and the atmosphere that help us make sense of what happened. Without the setting, the crime floats in a vacuum.

And then there’s the damage left behind, which can never be ignored. It often becomes clearer only toward the end of the story. It’s not just the grief of the victims’ families and loved ones, but the quieter losses too: the futures that never happened, the relationships that collapsed, the communities that were changed forever. Sometimes that damage is the hardest part to fully see.

So for me, the power of a crime story comes from how these three elements work together. The crime draws us in, the setting grounds us, and the damage left behind reminds us why the story matters.

3. Hot take. What’s your personal red flag or, what gives you the ick immediately in a crime novel, film, podcast, or TV show?

My biggest red flag, the instant ick, is the glorification of the perpetrator. The moment a story starts treating the criminal like a misunderstood genius or a folk hero, I’m out. Even when it’s framed as “stealing from the rich” or “they didn’t need it anyway,” it never lands for me. Taking something that isn’t yours doesn’t magically become noble because the target is wealthy. That kind of justification feels hollow and performative.

And of course, it gets even worse when the glorification involves violent offenders, especially murderers. What pulls me into a crime story is the why, the psychology, the mystery of what could push someone to cross that line. But that curiosity is not admiration. It’s an analysis. It’s trying to understand the fracture point in a person, not celebrating it.

4. What is the best (fictional or real) respite spot (ex. Bar, coffee shop, beach house) in a crime novel, film, TV show, and what terrible decision are we making there?

Two places come to mind, and each one depends on whether the character is alone or surrounded by friends.

When people are together, the classic bar setting is the perfect “respite” spot that quietly sets up terrible decisions. Alcohol lowers inhibitions, and being with friends lowers them even further. Everyone relaxes their guard. Suddenly you’re encouraging a friend to approach the cute stranger in the corner, or you’re accepting a drink from someone you barely met. At first only if the bartender hands it to you, but as the night goes on, those rules get fuzzy. Vulnerability creeps in disguised as fun.

But when the character is alone, the danger shifts. A seemingly peaceful outdoor space, a park, a solo hike, a quiet running trail, becomes the perfect backdrop for a terrible decision. It feels safe because it’s beautiful and open, but isolation creates opportunity. There are blind corners, dense trees, places where someone can step out of sight or pull a person off the path. It’s the kind of setting where the character thinks they’re clearing their head, but they’re actually stepping into a place where no one can hear them call for help.

5. Lastly, which city/part of California do you think is secretly the most noir right now?

For me, the most secretly noir part of California will always be the San Francisco Bay Area. Some of that likely comes from my own entry point into true crime, the Zodiac Killer case was one of the first investigations I ever dove into seriously.

But there’s also something about the distance. I live in Los Angeles, and maybe the Bay Area feels “safer” to analyze from afar. Even though Southern California has had more serial killers over time, Northern California has always carried the heavier spotlight. The cases up there feel colder, stranger, more mythic.

Especially with the Golden State Killer being solved in recent years, the Bay Area’s older mysteries stand out even more. They still have several unsolved serial‑killer cases that loom large: The Zodiac, The Doodler, and the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker murders. These cases have lingered for decades, shaping the region’s atmosphere in a way that feels uniquely noir, unresolved, unsettling, and constantly resurfacing in the cultural imagination.

So while Los Angeles has its own long history of darkness, the Bay Area’s combination of fog, mystery, and unsolved violence makes it feel like the most noir corner of California right now.

Susan Methven was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and holds a BS in Psychology from Penn State and an MA in Rehabilitation Counseling from Texas Tech. She spent most of her career supporting people with disabilities before shifting into senior case‑management services three years ago.

She lives in Long Beach with her husband and two fur babies and is currently developing an investigative narrative about a woman she befriended; uncovering evidence that the woman’s long‑term partner may be connected to multiple serial murders.