Prison visit

Mystery Web-Comic Author goes to prison.

by Ray.

Okay, I wasn't actually sentenced to prison. My day job as a internet security consultant usually puts me on the other side of the crime and punishment equation. However, I spent most of Sunday discussing writing with a group of inmates at Monroe Correctional. I was invited to teach as part of the Richard Hugo House Writers in Prisons program. For those of you aren't familiar with it, the Hugo House is a Seattle literary center for supporting writers and readers.

I'm not a traditional writer. I write a web comic - Heidi, Geek Girl Detective. Since October of last year, I've done about twenty one episodes, with at least three more years of material.

I had no idea what to expect. Gary, who runs the program, told me it was all pretty informal. "Just have a conversation." Okay... but, huh? He also told me to bring a driver's license and empty pockets - the prison won't allow anything else inside. I have to admit when it came down to the few hours before leaving, I was pretty nervous. I've done plenty of public speaking and teaching (again, the day job) but this is really the first time I'd ever spoke about my writing. And to an audience that was more mysterious to me than any character in my stories. And then on the ride up, I learn that this is the Lifers' writing group. Lifers.

Jon, a minister who founded the program, tells me it's a good thing. These Lifers are the ones who have come to terms with their circumstances. Instead of succumbing to the bitterness, they've decided to make the best of a bad situation.

We arrive and as expected, this means security: watch towers, metal detectors, ID checks, hand stamps, armed guards and rules. But more than anything, the ordinariness of it all strikes me. Everyone there, the guards, the visitors even the inmates all look like people you'd meet on the street. Normal people in unusual circumstances. Our group separates from the wives and mothers and children in the visiting room and we're escorted to a great metal chamber. Motors whir and a door slides open in front of us. We proceed alone into the prison.

We walk out into the courtyard and I look up. Coils of concertina wire frame the sky. Around us, great blocks of gray cement and chainlink fence. Then the penny drops. I'm in prison, I'm really in prison. Gary and Jon stride forward towards the arts building. Inmates in t-shirts and jeans wander about. No guards except those visible high above behind shatterproof glass in the towers. I quickly follow them to another cement building across the quad.

I walk into the room and there are twenty middle-aged men, as ordinary as you'd see anywhere. Sitting on the tables in front of them, color prints of my web comic. Then I got smiles and unabashed politeness as they usher me to a seat in the middle.

At some point during the discussion, I learn that my placement was no accident. The guy on my left runs a finger along a section of text from my manuscript. "You've got class-c network address here." "What? Why, yes... you're a techie!" He nods and points to the inmate on the other side of me. "Me and him both." A wave of brotherhood swept over me. No matter what the circumstances, we computer people share a common bond.

Those bonds surface again, but with the guys at the end of the table familiar with comic greats Scott McCloud, Art Spiegelman and Harvey Pekar. One says to me, "A lot of people confuse comics as a genre when it's a medium." You're preaching to the choir, man.

The guy across from me is a brilliant watercolorist; the guy next to him, a Photoshop whiz. They're anxious to help me with my artwork. I told 'em to take a shot at a scene and when it's done, I'll post it on PlanetHeidi.

Next the writer in the corner who was struggling to write believable female characters spoke up. "I noticed Heidi isn't your typical female character: no big boobs, no wide hips." Yes, I wanted to write her as real as could be, to be true to the women she represents.

So many insightful questions...and the big topics come out: law, crime and most of all murder. They just rolled with it. "There are two kinds of criminals... the pros who are good at it, and..." he pauses for effect, "...the cons." Most of the room groaned. (I suspected he tells this joke a lot) but my chuckle was genuine. Ice broken, we dove deeper: Complex discussions of intellectual property rights, cyber-crime versus real crime and questions about the new mediums of storytelling.

Then it was over. Time was up. I compliment them on the amazing experience, tell them this wasn't what I expected. An inmate nods and smiles, "We have our good days and our bad days. This was a good day." We exchange hasty goodbyes and promised to exchange more work. I learn the inmates are producing a book collecting the best art and poetry submitted. I ask if I can help them web publish whatever they can't fit. And I ask to come back. So much more for me to learn.

On the long drive back, Jon tells me, "You see, I don't do this to punch some moral ticket. The connection to humanity I get from these guys. I get fuel from that."

Me too.

The Jon Nelson Prison Program

Heidi, Geek Girl Detective - A web comic