Waiting on the Book—and the Investigation

As the launch of The Burn List draws closer, I’m living in a kind of suspended animation—not just because the book is about to go out into the world, but because parts of the story are still unfolding in real time.

One of the most significant threads in the book is a formal complaint I filed against one of my abusers. The university began investigating it around November 2024. They say the hearing should wrap up in August of this year. That would make it almost exactly one year of waiting—for an answer, for a decision, for acknowledgment.

I wrote about this complaint in the book, knowing that whatever the outcome, it would become part of the story. And it will. When the university finally reaches a decision, I’ll add the outcome to the end of the book—no matter what it is. I’m hoping it’s one I can feel proud to include. But even if it’s not, it still belongs in the record.

There are other complaints I’m considering filing too, depending on what happens next—and depending on how safe I feel.

Every single detail I chose to include had to pass a gauntlet of questions: Do I have evidence for this? Do I feel safe sharing it? Could this evidence be turned against me somehow? What’s the emotional cost of including this, and what’s the cost of leaving it out?

I’ve had to think like a lawyer, like a survivor, and like a strategist—all while writing like a memoirist. And now, with the book nearly ready to meet the world, I find myself thinking about how the people I named will respond.

On my best days, I imagine they’ll own what they did. That they’ll acknowledge the harm, maybe even apologize publicly. On my worst days, I fear they’ll retaliate—through lawsuits, smear campaigns, or silent sabotage. And on my darkest days, I’m afraid I’ll be shot for speaking up at all.

This is what it costs to write a book like this. The memories, the trauma—and the risk of being punished for telling the truth. Still, the alternative—silence—is no longer something I can live with.

So I wait. For the investigation to finish. For the book to launch. For the world to show me who’s really listening—and who still thinks it’s safer to look away.