What It's Been Like to Write This Book

Writing The Burn List has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever done—and not for lack of skill or clarity. It’s difficult because I chose to name names.

That single decision has made the road nearly impassable. Literary agents won’t touch it. Publishing houses say it’s “too risky.” Even my own developmental editor—who called me an excellent writer with the potential to become a multi-book author—refused to be publicly associated with the project. She praised the writing, admired the structure, and recognized the importance of the story. But when it came time to take a stand, she stepped back. Quietly.

I understand why. There are real consequences for speaking out, especially when you do so with specificity. Naming names removes the protective layer of abstraction that so many memoirs lean on. It also exposes me to retaliation from the very people who harmed me—powerful men in academia who know how to twist perception, exploit policy loopholes, and destroy reputations behind closed doors.

And yes, I’m afraid. I fear that my abusers will try to find me. That they’ll attempt to silence me again—this time with lawyers, smear campaigns, or worse. I fear what happens when someone who’s spent years trying to control you learns that you’ve written down everything they tried to erase.

But for all those fears, telling the truth has still been easier than continuing to live in silence.

Silence is what let the abuse continue. Silence is what protected the systems that enabled it. And silence is what almost killed me—slowly, invisibly, over many years.

So I wrote. I wrote because I had to. Because no one else would. Because the institutions that failed me will not change until the public sees how deep the rot goes.

This book is more than a memoir. It’s a warning. A map. A light held up in a dark place.

And even if the publishing industry turns away and the people in power try to strike back, I would rather speak than stay hidden.

Because silence is a kind of death. And I choose to live.