March 26, 2011 9:32 p.m.
Hello, hardworking lady! Glad to hear that all is well and good in your world…almost.
I foresaw that you would not be pleased with TDCJ about the legal pads. Sorry. I didn’t even want to tell you about it, but had to.
It’s bad enough that these brilliant people denied them to begin with. Oh, and if you decide to try again, please don’t go the loose paper route? I know, beggars can’t be choosers, and I hate to sound picky, but loose leaf paper is all over the place, you know? That stuff moved around when you write, then slips….it’s a pain because I usually lay down to write, and with loose leaf, I have to hold the paper in one place with one hand and write with the other. Hopefully, they have the top kind like they sell here.
And how ironic, you say I’m so easy to please. Here I was, daydreaming about scribbling my heart away. Then, you say you want the novel. Long story, but the paper would have been right on time. Really, staples? How stupid.
Okay, if you’re confused, good. See, the book I told you about, it’s like I told you. It’s very well written. BUT, it’s RAW. There’s murder, sex, drugs, it’s very, very street! I don’t know maybe it was a way of me cleansing it from my system? Regardless, it’s what people are reading, and everyone who has read it, loved it, but then they have all been people within and so that gives them a curve. Truth is, although I’m positive that we will make money on it, I don’t want to expose you to the uncut story that lies in those pages. Call me protecting you, but I don’t want you to know I’m capable of writing or having witnessed such violence and lewd acts. Sure, we’re all adults, and you are more adult than me. I just want you absolutely sure what you are getting into with that book.
Plus, when I got you letter, I pulled it down and looked over it. No getting around the fact that I’d have to rewrite it. That would be an editing nightmare for you trying to read it as it is, and it’s worth the work for me, trust me. It’s just not something I really want to expose you to when I’ve got better work that’s much cleaner. Perhaps once we get the ball rolling on another project, we can go back to that one, but our overall goal on it anyway is to shop it for sell, rights and all. Like I said, we can make anywhere from two to ten thousand just on the potential it has to best seller on the urban book market, but it’s not something that I want my name or yours tied to. Maybe you understand what I’m saying. Let’s just put that on the back burner until I can get it rewritten, or I might be able to borrow a typewriter this summer, we’ll see.
Ah, fear not, (I almost called you “mademoiselle” because it would have sounded good, but I looked it up and now I know the definition. Wow) dammit, madam would be very inappropriate! Let’s keep it simple. Fear not, Lady. On a whim, I flipped through the stacks of scribbling and found our jewel! O yes, you will be thoroughly pleased with this one.
It’s titled When Hell Freezes Over. I’d tell you some about it, but I’d rather you see it for yourself. I’ll say this, I sat down last night, late, and started reading it, as if for the first time because it’s been so long since I wrote it, and I never read it after I wrote it. Jan, I couldn’t stop reading it! And I couldn’t believe I actually wrote it! The story itself is gripping, but the characters are so real, the dialogue honest, believable, and it has a flow like novels I have a hard time putting down. Simply put, I was impressed!
Even the library book that I’m reading….ehh, it has a good story line, likable characters with too cheesy names (mob bosses names Mason Lord and Ruse Shaker), but the dialogue is weak, canned, strained, forced if you will, and it deteriorates everything around it. All while I’ve been reading it, the last book I read too, I keep thinking, I can do better than this, and I can. I have. No, I’m not becoming arrogant or cocky, it’s just truth. You have opened my eyes to the potential that’s there.
Anyhow, I’ll let you decide. I’m super eager to rewrite it and complete it so that you can see. As a matter of fact, I’m going to purchase a few more legal pads from commissary and start rewriting it. I’ll send you 20 pages at a time. Deal? Because I don’t’ want you thinking that I’m just tooting my own horn. I read, and I know good when I see it. This stuff is good.
Better news? It’s not the only one. I’ve got Ace in the Hole, the Book of Samuel, Color Blind, The Valley of Death, Night Reavers and Morganville.
Now I’ve got all the incentive to complete them all. Oh, I forgot about the book about a stray band of dogs Mudcat Lane, about four more, plus the short stories!
That’s a shame that I’ve got so much written material that I can’t remember it all. The book I first mentioned is Down By Law, that and Dark Reign are books we can swell, the others are our projects. Please be excited, you won’t be disappointed. Jeeze, I’ve been writing all of this stuff then just storing it on the shelf. Well, now it’s a new day, time to rise and shine.
4:10 p.m.
Just got back from visitation with my uncle. It was great! He’s such an awesome dude! Must have ate so much junk food! He was very, very supportive and listened, smiled, hugged me and was proud of me. Cool.
He too was upset about the legal pads, and about most of the crap and stupid policies, but encouraged patience and prayer. It was really good to see him and talk freely, cleanse my soul.
This clown officer that I had words with a few nights ago was working visitation. He has been harassing me and is such a coward that he couldn’t—wouldn’t even look me in the eyes in front of my uncle, whom I’d already told and pointed the guy out to. Usually I shake it off, but his punk keeps threatening me, saying, “I’m going to get your ass!” His name is E.B. and apparently he’s on a rampage. I had to pull another inmate out of his face prior to visit.
They put us in a little room and strip us down naked. This clown B got all in the inmate’s face for nothing, then balled his clean and pressed clothes up and threw them on the floor. When I got the inmate to back down, the guard kept at him until another officer asked him to take a break, then called him an asshole when he left. That guy is trouble. I promise that I’m going to do my best to stay out of his way, I’ve got too much to lose, but if he puts his hands on me, I’m going to beat his fat ass to death! God knows, I hope that guy leaves me alone. I’m tolerant, but I won’t be threatened. Know what, I’m going to talk to some rank, maybe Sgt. W. about him, try to fix the problem before it goes any further. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Yeah, outside of that, it was all good. My uncle said he’d support the blog and whatever ventures I get into. His kindness combined with yours made me have to bow my head in thanks for a minute during the visit.
I swear, in here it’s so easy to forget that there are good people out there, then you’re so unaccustomed to dealing with them that it’s a shock when they extend their kindness.
In opening up to him, and I opened all the way up, I realized that there are some things that need to be said before the book can be printed. I need to put it on paper. Yeah, I need to explain what I did and why, because it’s one of the most powerful elements to my being able to open the eyes of whoever I’m able to help. It’s a must.
11:41 p.m.
Against my better judgment, I got up and went to chow when I should have kept studying. My reasoning was that I could give my tray away since no one on the cellblock has any good, being as how we’ve not been to commissary in a month (come on Monday!). Should have followed my first mind.
After chow, the crips and Disciples got into it. It was short lived and controlled, but so near getting us locked down, again. If that boy had gotten in a good swing with that cane, all hell would have broke loose.
All of the details are in the blog that resulted from it. Then at count time, a member of each gang fought a member of the other. I’m assuming it’s settled. It’s always something.
I got in a few hours of studying, but quickly grew tired of reading that crap. Sat down with my Lenten devotional, read my Bible, then read some of my library book, but ended up reading and editing more of When Hell Freezes Over. Loving this book, Lady. It’s gonna be a goodun’! I’m so anxious to copy it, to send it to you, to finish it, ha! So much on my plate never felt so good!
I also spoke to a Sgt. about that officer. He told me to write it up and the officer will have to answer the grievance. Ha! Like I have any faith in the grievance procedures. I’m going to do it anyway, to protect myself just in case anything happens. There’s very obviously something wrong with that guy.
Well, just wanted to bring you up to speed. I’m sleepy but want to go to breakfast. Just wish they didn’t feed at 3 a.m. It’s not good for my sleep cycle.
Blog Someone I Know
Damn.
Things were going so smoothly…then I ran into someone…someone from my past…someone I know…someone who knows me.
Trepidation overcame me, my heart skipped a beat then began to gallop, my mouth went bone dry, my eyes jittered in their sockets like shook dice, the fine blond hair on the back of my neck stood erect.
His eyes locked on mine, lacking tentativeness, brimming with unfiltered hatred, jaws clenched and throbbing, his mouth an angry slip akin to that of something cold blooded and venomous.
My reaction was in kind, fear and disbelief conceiving my one blazing hostility, causing my features to harden and grow sharper like the angles of blades meant for killing and bloodletting.
A storm of words, curses, phrases, threats and declaration roiled within my lungs like the stirrings of a storm, triggering flashes of lightning and booming thunder in my soul, but producing not a drop of sound from my angrily fastened lips.
Flashbacks of his past crimes and atrocities against me, a projection film production of Resentment in HD flickered inside my head. Rage replaced hostility yet still no words bubbled forth. None were needed.
Our eyes communicated a lifetime of abused trusts, misplaced loyalties, forfeit hopes and dreams, squandered opportunities and ruined relationships. His fury matched mine, as if I was to blame and not him.
He curled his lips into a crooked smirk, an expression that said without saying, “Yeah, I know you.” And suddenly a calm came over me, relaxing bunched and tensed muscles, soothing the smoldering cinders of volcanic violence below my surface.
I smirked in return, then smiled full out, forcing him to show his teeth as well. My smile sang cooly, “Naw, you don’t know me. Not anymore. And his smile, duller and smaller than mine, simply admitted defeat.
Finally I freed myself of his probing stare, exhaled the fumes from the quenched fires, inhaled a new fresh breath and set the mirror down.
Perhaps the next time we meet, he’ll realize that I’m no longer his enemy. I’m not the man I used to be.
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