Welcome to the blog where women writing from prison are featured.

The ability to write, to express ourselves with words, is a gift.

Most of us write for personal reasons and never think of publication.

The business of writing is a tough one and hard to break into.

The writings you see in this blog may be a 'first publication credit' for the authors. They write using pen names.

Writing from the Inside--Pick of the Bunch:
Scroll down to the brown to read "Back to Square One," a poem by Alto Saxophone.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Happiness, Hope and Help

My husband and I are busily tidying up the house and grounds for a visit by his children and their children. The house will be full of little ones so everything four feet and under has become child-friendly: grown-up books have been replaced with those for children, table tops cleared of anything little hands can reach, a space for a  small, plastic pool and toys created because (hooray!) water play can last for hours--and years! Even the dog is running around trying to avoid a bath!

The Authors Club at the prison met yesterday to hear a visiting speaker, the author Haywood Smith--you can find her website at www.haywoodsmith.net. It is such a blessing when someone comes to visit, whether we are in prison or not, isn't it?

Haywood regaled us with true (and hilariously funny) life stories that are the inspiration for her novels--and while she talked, she gave us a glimpse of the writing life, with all its discipline, as well as the realities of the publishing business. For instance, Haywood has had to take almost one-third less on her new book contract. Self-publishing, e-publishing, the closing of bookstores, small and large, have created a whole new and to-be-discovered world for writers.

One of these emerging writers is Goldilocks, the president of our Authors Club. During the country's time of recession, while incarcerated, Goldilocks has written novel after novel--two are now for sale through Amazon. She also has more contracted with a publishing company. In addition, she is currently putting together a book of poetry featuring the women in the club. As its editor, Goldilocks asked me to write the forward. This is what I have written so far:

Summer, 2011

Four years ago, when I became a liaison for and participant in The Authors Club at the prison, I began to know Goldilocks. During this time the club has grown and changed, always for the better, mainly because of Goldilocks who is a natural leader.

Goldilocks' personal discipline affects us all. Under her leadership we are kept on task and not allowed to begin a new project until the one we are committed to is finished. Oh, we can write as much as we want about anything we want to, but we better be able to report—and show evidence—of the progress on our stated projects at the meetings. In other words, Goldilocks is a taskmaster--but a benevolent one.

Goldilocks' knowledge and understanding of the writing process and its discipline is an inspiration to all of us. She has taken bold steps in becoming a published author and has not left us out--this book is the result of her care for us and her desire that we, too, succeed. This book is a result of her leadership in our lives, but we hope that soon these writings will become a kind of “farewell gift” from us to her. 

We wish Goldilocks God’s speed on her hoped-for journey that will take her out of prison and into the wider world--and then we can all say, “We knew her when…”

Here is a poem she wrote:

Murderer

They say I'm a murderer
because I did what I was told
with a cold barrel in my face...shakin'
in fear for my life I drove

When I came to--it was tragic
a family gone
The devastation of being responsible
definitely left me blown

Define the assault he delivered
upon by body
stealing a part of my soul
The sentence I serve is life
In my heart the story unfolds

Daily...I awaken...
remembering what all was taken
My Creator above said He
would never leave nor forsake me
Through Him,
I'm not a murderer
I'm a conqueror

Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste

When I was growing up there was a public service "commercial" on televsion. It was simple and pictured a young person bobbing around in some waves. The figure's little voice cried, "Help, help, help" as it moved in the water. A voice came on and said, "A mind is a terrible thing to waste." I hope I remember correctly--I think the ad was to raise money for college funds for African-Americans.

This week a family member had an incident that has affected the mind. This person is older. These things happen one doctor said. Another mentioned dementia. I asked about that. I must have showed some fear in my face.

"Dementia is nothing to be afraid of," the doctor said. "Many people experience it. My own mother and grandmother, for example. The terrible thing about dementia is if the person has no one to care for them."

I didn't like hearing those words. But when I thought about my love for this person, I felt strengthened to provide whatever care is needed, for whatever the duration may be.

I wrote this poem in response:

When the Mind Fails
Like worms, words don't surface
Like trails of snails, sentences stop
Silence and sleep become a place to slip
to slide...to burrow...to hide
Blessed are those who have someone:
so many don't.

Most of the women I've met in prison are surprisingly intelligent. Somewhere along the way education failed to reach most of these women and they "fell between the cracks." More education isn't insurance against dementia but there is growing evidence that it can help delay it. I'm a true believer in life-long learning: ee can be changed by the "renewing of our minds."

These days it's easy to find things to rail about--but, at least in this country--at least from what I observe firsthand in Georgia--a prison can become a setting for the wasting of the mind to stop.

How I admire these women I meet for not giving up.

How I admire those who work in prisons teaching and encouraging these women to carry on. They have someone who cares.