Prison Journal: Day 7,916
April 12, 2009
I called to wake Carole at six this morning. She was already up and checking for messages on the computer. A google alert had come through with a mention of my name in a New York Times article. The story was on a friend of mine from another prison, Joe Reddick. The reporter had written a story about Joe’s publishing experience. He authored fiction from the urban genre, and his exposure in the New York Times ought to help his work. It was generous of Joe to have given credit to both Carole and me as an inspiration.
Writing is therapeutic for me, and I feel privileged to have helped a few others develop writing careers. Besides Joe, I’ve mentored many men who used the pen to share their stories with others. This book project that consumes me now will illuminate the work of several prison authors with whom I’ve worked over the past several years.
I began writing this morning at 3:15 and I feel pleased with the progress I’ve made. I ought to have a draft ready to send Carole for typing by the end of this week.
The rewrite will take a lot of time. I have written about 4,000 words, and I expect to conclude the sample chapter in less than 2,000 more words. Once I write a draft of that final section, I need to make more edits and rewrite the entire chapter to make it more legible for typing. At this stage of the process, the draft remains rough enough that it’s for my eyes only.
In the morning I enjoyed a wonderful exercise session. The sunshine allowed me to run without my shirt. I finished 10 miles, boosting my tally to 1,066 miles in 121 consecutive days. Then I followed the run with 430 pushups.
As I exercised, I thought about the possible transfer to Sheridan Camp. There will be drawbacks, as the Pacific Northwest weather does not appeal to me as much as Southern California. When it’s hot there, rules may prohibit me from exercising without a shirt. The potential access to e-mail and more visits with Carole trumps the weather, however. This manuscript would be a lot easier to work on if I could access that computer.
Sunday, 12 April 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,886
March 13, 2009
This morning I felt heavy with sadness when I woke. After all of the days, weeks, months, and years I have served, I am totally adjusted to prison. If I set my mind to focus exclusively on my writing, exercise, and reading, I easily could coast through the remaining three to four years that I’m scheduled to serve. I could serve those thousand-plus days in an isolated cell without a whimper; I could serve them in a high-security penitentiary with rape and murder always a holler away. The time in confinement no longer affects my prison adjustment. I’m well conditioned to cope with prison.
The strategy that guides and empowers me is to set clearly defined goals that I control. One goal, for example, is to write every day. Another is to exercise every day. As long as I work toward the goals I set, I obliterate some of the control that outside forces have over my life. My key, or the essential component to my feeling of empowerment, comes with my setting a purpose toward which I can stay in constant pursuit. The only time I fall into an emotional trap, or pit, is when I surrender some of that control. It is why I know that I will struggle with sadness all day.
I am sad because I will not visit with Carole today. She is my oxygen because I allow myself the pleasure of loving her, and because God has blessed me with her love. Rather than focusing on the 1,000 days of confinement ahead, I live my life from one visiting day to the next. I have trained myself to live as if I’m swimming beneath the current, and the Friday visits with Carole represent my single opportunity to come up for air. Today I will not have any air.
The reason we’re not visiting today is because Carole is scheduled to work. Had I told her that I needed her, I know that she would have come. As a nurse, however, she has a responsibility and I wanted her to honor it; I could cope with the sadness. I could erase it completely, but doing so would require me to live without love. I prefer to accept the life that comes with our marriage, and sometimes that means inviting sadness. In time, I remind myself, prison will end and we’ll be together. For now I must focus on holding my breath and making it through to the next visiting day.
I began writing at 3:00. By 7:00 I had completed four blog articles and I put my writing gear away. Producers from Good Morning America had contacted Carole yesterday with regard to my work. They were compiling content for the Bernard Madoff story and had found my work as a useful resource. A producer contacted Carole to determine whether I could be of service. As a prisoner, administrators control my access to the media. Since I could not be a timely source, the producers asked Carole whether she could help. She put the producer in touch with Joe Reddick, a friend I made in a previous prison where we both were confined. The producer sent a car and driver so Joe could make an in-studio appearance to consult on how Madoff would serve his time.
As I watched Joe appear on the morning news segment, I felt proud of Carole for the role she played in coordinating the effort. Our work is becoming a national resource in a specific niche, and I feel blessed to work together with my wife to create these opportunities. After the show I went out to run five miles, bringing my total to 830 miles over the past 91 days. In the afternoon I wrote three additional blog articles, then I spent two more hours proofing the manuscript on which I’ve been working. I was lying on my rack by 6:00, and asleep by 6:30 p.m..
Friday, 13 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,883
March 10, 2009
Ten years ago, when I was confined inside the fences of Ft. Dix, New Jersey, I had a friend named Joe Black. Joe’s real name is Joe Reddick, but everyone in the prison knew him as Joe Black. He was several years younger than me, and we had grown up in different types of environments. Whereas I had been reared in the relative affluence of a North Seattle suburb, Joe had grown up in the tough community of Harlem, New York.
Joe was well known within the prison system as a star on the basketball court. He was also a gifted storyteller. As I do with many prisoners, I urged Joe to begin writing. Through writing, those of us in prison could work toward developing better communication skills. Those skills would translate into better opportunities for employment upon release.
At the time, I was writing nonfiction. I had finished my first-book, About Prison and my second book, Profiles From Prison. Publishers had brought those prison books to market for academic audiences. Joe did not write for the university. He wrote novels that described the tough life of growing up in the inner city. His stories were part of the urban genre that told of drug dealing, fighting, and murder.
My wife was by then working with me to publish a third book. We were producing that project for people who might be searching for guidance to help them through the criminal justice system. Carole developed skills in working with printers and typesetting; she formed a publishing company that produced and distributed my third book. That project motivated Joe to produce a book of his own, and Carole helped Joe bring Street Team to market.
Producing a book from within the confines of a federal prison helped prison authors. The sustained effort and coordinating required focus, though it helped prisoners feel as if they were living lives of meaning, as if the men were contributing to the world. Writing has helped my adjustment, and today I learned of how much Joe’s writing is helping his life.
After serving more than 13 years, Joe was released from prison in 2008. A reporter for The New York Times is writing a lengthy article about Joe’s journey through prison and about his experiences as a prison author. I know this because the reporter spoke with my wife today about Joe. The reporter was gathering information for his story. This project will expose Joe’s work to millions of people. I feel a sense of pride in the small role I played in helping him become a successful prison author.
With a commitment to continue my own writing, I began my work this morning at 2:30. By 7:30 I had finished writing five blog articles. Then I ran 10 miles, lifting my total to 805 miles over the past 88 days. I followed the run with 300 pushups in the afternoon I finished my first article for change.org. Then I began proofreading another manuscript I worked on as a ghost writer. Today was productive.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
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