As usual when I read the book/story that defined a genre, while reading In Cold Blood I had to fight the sense of, "oh, this has been done before." Because the amazing thing about this book is that, in fact, it had not been done before. 
 I enjoyed this book on three counts. First, I enjoyed the experience of reading the "first of its kind." Second, I enjoyed the effect of the storytelling, which drew me into the characters' lives, including Perry Smith's and Dick Hickok's, which was rather disconcerting. And third, I enjoyed trying to determine which pieces of the story Capote got from what source (interviews, evidence, courtroom testimony, personal correspondence, etc). 
 Another reviewer mentioned that the author's presence was heavy in the story. I didn't experience this. On the contrary, I was impressed at how well Capote stayed out of the story (he did refer to himself once towards the very end of the book). He did describe the scenes in a rather personal way, I suppose, making comparisons to aid his descriptions of towns, people, buildings. This I could see someone interpreting as Capote being too present, but I think this is to be expected from any piece of journalism (objectivity can only take a story so far). 
 Overall, I found this book to be a powerful read that I couldn't put down. I know there are images in this book that will remain with me for a long time.