The library at Leavenworth had two or three electric typewriters that barely worked. In the Spring of 2010 I started writing a lot of prose that turned into a novel that I have yet to complete. Only a handful of people made use of the typewriters and I got a reputation as a typist. Naturally, many folks thought I was a lawyer and despite me telling them otherwise, I ended up typing lots of letters for others. Some were to other lawyers, some were to wives and girlfriends, and I even recall writing a letter on behalf of a fellow from Columbia, Missouri to Senator Claire McKaskill. I accepted payment in the form of commissary items, bit most of the time I did it for free. Nobody allowed anybody else to cause many problems to the typist and this worked in my favor. By law, typewriter ribbons were for sale at the commissary, but I was fortunate enough to work in the recycling factory. In addition to the old computers, there were also the same models of typewriters in the factory for us to break down. Sometimes they still had half used ribbons in them. I would sneak them out of the factory in the front if my pants from time to time and by the time I was released, I still had quite a few that I have away. I did quite a lot of writing of my own when I wasnt writing letters for other people and sometimes it was a physical challenge. During the summer months of 2011, the air conditioning stopped working in the library. The library was adjacent to the gymnasium and sometimes on the weekends they would project movies onto the gymnasium wall. Inmates had to bring their own chairs and if they were too lazy to bring one from their living quarters, they took them from the library. For awhile I was able to find hiding spots for at least one chair but soon my hiding spot was discovered. I can vividly recall having to stack up a dozen encyclopedias on the floor to be able to sit at the typewriter. One particularly awful summer day, I was perched upon my encyclopedia chair, doing some repair work on a typewriter ribbon I had salvaged. Sweat poured down my face and body as I blackened my fingers from the ink on the fragile ribbon that I was repairing, swatting the flies from my eyes. A great deal of trouble just to be able to put words on a page. A portion of this novel I struggled to create, I will read on October 11 during the Blue Billies performance at Sufi Park in Carbondale. It will feel quite rewarding to share some of these efforts that the universe so challenged me to allow existence. I will post more about it in the days to come. Hope to see you there.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Sep 2014 04:26:25 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015