The Bloodiest Decathalon: A Review of “Ten Kills, One Life” by Jewel Evans

[Laurels]

((Thanks to MurderWeasel, Namira, and Brackie for some details in this piece.))

The Bloodiest Decathalon: A Review of “Ten Kills, One Life” by Jewel Evans
Reviewed by Shoshanna Kowalczyk

April 2, 2021

If you were to look over the history of SOTF winners and post-game careers, you’ll be surprised how few of them have written about their experiences. Maybe it’s because it’s the new 20’s and digital media and podcasts are where it’s at, but there haven’t been that many winners or escapees who put their stories to print. Granted, we can’t have several dozen people flooding the literary market with their takes on what went down when they were on TV, since that would cause oversaturation and, most likely, some of these people would be shit at it. But the SOTF literary field is one that’s quite fascinating to observe if you want to look deeper into the teenagers who became public figures thanks to one of the most significant television programs in history.

Emilie Brown, one of the escapees from Season 18, was the first SOTF winner/survivor to pen a memoir, barely two years after her season, with A Mystery of Violence. That hybrid memoir, which served as both a recount of her and the other Mystery Girls' escape attempt, as well as going deeper into the history of Palmyre, Washington, was an instant bestseller and set the tone for her literary career. Zalika Attwood also published her autobiography, And Then There Was One, to similar acclaim, with their respective careers showing how profitable and enticing the field of publishing is for those who survive. Now, you can criticize Brown and Attwood for their respective memoirs and later output, but their work showed just how important these needed perspectives are for understanding the psychology of the game and the inner workings of the ladies who survived it.

Of course, the literary field is also where the anti-SOTF crowd also flourishes, tapping into the protest market to sell their books. The two most notable authors in this field are Malik Ismat, “winner” of Season 60, and Nolan McMann, an escapee from Season 26. There’s a whole other can of discourse in those works that’s not worth oepning right now, but they help affirm how valuable publishing is for the SOTF franchise. However, I will say Ismat’s is a much more fascinating read for those who want to see some salient points from the anti-SOTF crowd, aided by Ismat’s more intelligent writing and a better control of his character in the work. McMann’s, meanwhile, is shit. Don’t read it. Just... don't.

So now, with a new era of SOTF upon us, it’s quite a surprise that the first person to dip their toes into the lagoon of SOTF-related New York Times bestsellers is Season 66 10-kill queen Jewel Evans. In her new book Ten Kills, One Life, Evans attempts to cover the events of Season 66, while also covering her life story and a few additional topics of her interest. Evans was quite a polarizing character during and after Season 66, as she had fans and haters due to her gameplay and persona, which you would come to love more or hate more if you spent enough time following her on Twitter. Ten Kills, One Life is basically Evans’ TwitLonger for sale, and fortunately, I got my pre-order copy the day it came out and binged it the same night, so now I can thankfully inform all of you whether or not it’s worth investing time in.

The memoir is divided into ten sections and follows a fairly consistent formula throughout. Most sections include the following:

• An essay about a contestant Evans killed.

• An essay about some aspect of SOTF that ties into the kill.

• An essay about some part of Evans’ life before SOTF, or after. Either way, it ties into the kill.

• A Top-10 list about some random topic.

The structure and dedication to sticking to it makes it fairly easy to section off and develop the memoir. For example, the first chapter’s four essays discuss Evans waking up in the Lānaʻi Resort, with a rumination on the symbolism of the fish tank and how that tied into her personal history; the thoughts and emotions that led to her killing Davis Todd and the nature of first kills in SOTF; a criticism of her mentor, Karisma Chandra, and discussion of the mentor concept that began with Season 65; and ends with a Top-10 list counting Evans’ favorite songs by The Cure. There’s some playing with this concept throughout the memoir, but it sticks to the formula for most of it. It's really only complicated because the chapters discussing Kills #5 and #6 (the back-to-back killings of Shawn Thornton and Sebastien Bellamy) had a lot to discuss over a quick event in the game, and even then, the section is mostly centered around one long rant against Anastasia Arcadia.

This structure not only makes it easy to parcel one’s reading of the book over a few reading periods, but also helps with the narrative through line of the book. Reading the book feels like a more in-depth viewing of Evans’ story in Season 66. She spends enough time on each of the ten kills to make it clear that these aren’t surface-level ruminations, but thoughtful recollections of each moment and each individual. Some students receive much deeper analysis than others, in some cases the students Evans didn’t kill receive more discussion than those she did kill (for example, the essay about Cathryn Bailey is more in-depth than the one on Søren Rosendahl). This is to be expected, as Evans would have some greater interactions with some kids than others and some students had more airtime than others, which gives more to review when watching the season again. This doesn’t detract from the memoir itself, and while it may be disappointing to see some Season 66 favorites get scant mentions, the ones Evans does discuss are addressed with some real respect and heart (except for AnArchy, although Evans makes it pretty abundantly clear why that is).

But the main draw of this memoir is the lady who wrote it, and the main appeal to pick it up is to read it is hoping to get some insight into the girl with the Zach shirt. Obviously, SOTF doesn’t let us get into the heads of the students, and unlike the more antiquated reality TV shows lacks confessionals and talking head segments, meaning that virtually every kid who dies is an enigma unless they make a camera rant. Evans was a polarizing figure, and the memoir is to hopefully help fans of the show and fans of Evans understand more of who she is, why she did the things she did, and what they should take away from all of that.

First and foremost, the book is not the one-true analysis of Miss Evans, which she even makes clear in the opening of the book. She’s reflective enough to make it clear that you can’t fully understand her after reading it. Hell, she’s not even certain on some of the actions and motives she had during the game. The best she, and the reader, can hope for is some idea that is comfortable enough to take away from all of it. Evans can’t fully dissect herself, despite how much she loves disembowelments (and can make a fairly convincing case why you should too), but she has arrived at her own conclusions about who she is, and she hopes she has given you enough to reach those too.

So who is Jewel No-Middle-Name Evans, one of the winners of Season 66 of SOTF and one of the more notable SOTF contestants in the last ten seasons? Well, from what I could gather, she’s an intelligent, artistic, cynical, humorous, remorseful, complex, and all-around fascinating figure. I came out of Ten Kills, One Life with more of an appreciation for the gothic Oklahoman than I did during the season. This memoir shouldn’t be seen as an absolution of the actions she committed in Oregon last winter, but it’s an interesting study of a woman who demonstrates a wisdom and maturity far beyond most people her age. Even she seems a bit over her hype at times, which makes it clear this isn’t plea for us to see her in one particular way, but a request to try and see her in more dimensions than what the TV screen could give you.

Are there any places where the book fell short? Yes, but honestly, most of them are personal reasons and don’t detract from my overall enjoyment of the book. Each chapter begins with a recommended song to listen to, and I didn’t really like any of them. Evans has a very particular taste in music, and even though I tried to play the songs on loop, too many of them ran similarly to one another so I couldn’t remember any of them afterwards. Also, some of her takes are shit. Her Top 10 Most Bangable Winners list is fine for the most part, but her pick for #1 is too anticlimactic and disappointing, even if there's a funny reason why she picked that winner in particular.

But overall, Ten Kills, One Life is a reminder of the complexity and the potential every single person cast on SOTF has, filtered through one of the most fascinating lenses to come from recent seasons. Jewel Evans never asked to be studied and analyzed, but her writing presents her as such a relatable and influential figure on the game that even if you didn’t like her in the show or post-game, it’s still a required read for anyone interested in SOTF culture beyond just the show itself. It’s a fresh look at SOTF and one that speaks to how the series will be examined as we enter a new decade of the series, and likewise, it posits Evans as someone who could be called upon for further analysis. You may not like Evans based on her time on the show, but you’re quite likely to walk away from Ten Kills, One Life with a deep respect for the woman if nothing else, so hopefully you get your copy soon.