For all of my blathering about the injustices of prison life, I am also sensitive to the fact that heinous crime occurs and when it does—beautiful, innocent people are brutally victimized, their lives forever altered. I stand with those who have experienced despicable human acts, unspeakable trauma, and life-altering crime.

Several years ago, I was riveted by a podcast about the murder of an 18-year-old women in Florida. I listen to the nine-part series to and from work everyday—obsessively. No stranger to injustice, I was extra, extra appalled by Florida's indifference to finding the truth about her murder. I became a frequent commenter about it on social media platforms, I shared the story every chance I got, and I followed the case closely until in 2024, the man convicted of her murder was let out of prison.

Because he didn’t do it.

I was beyond thrilled to see that the majority vote in both our polls and in personal messages to me made Bone Valley: A True Story of Injustice and Redemption in the Heart of Florida by Gilbert King our 2026 second quarter Misfit Lit Book Club pick.

This book tells the full story of the Leo Schofield case in Polk County, Florida. He was arrested, charged, and imprisoned in 1987 for the murder of his young wife. It would take 36 years behind bars before the true killer was named—and Leo was set free on parole.

If you haven't listened to the podcast feel free to dive in, but this book is an even deeper look into how wrongful convictions happen—a double victimization by our justice system. It is no longer enough to say that the authorities “get it wrong.” In this and so many other cases like it, the investigators and prosecutors manufacture injustice, they cling to unethical behavior, and viciously tamper with witnesses and evidence. And they steal innocent people’s lives in the process.

This book is also about prison life and visiting prison. It is about a family waiting, achingly, for someone to come from incarceration. It is about next level redemption and forgiveness. Ultimately, this book is about what we make out of indescribable heartbreak and loss.

And dear writers,

This book is also about the process one author went through to research and then expose these gross injustices while trying to make a living writing other things. He was out of his depth—he admits that—but he did it anyway, and he helped change the course of judicial history. We get to follow him into the prison and into numerous heated interviews, where raw humanity is exposed on both sides of this story. *If you choose the audio version, you’ll hear the actual interviews.

Heads up: this is a comprehensive book full of details about several crimes, including but not limited to, Michelle Schofield’s murder. Though it is not true crime per se, it is crime descriptive. Sensitive readers should take care.

Unfortunately: This is a new book, so it is only available in hardcover. Please—don’t let that deter you. Check out free sources if you cannot afford to buy this one outright. My library had three copies and if you have Spotify premium or Hoopla, the audio book is free. As noted, it features recordings from the original podcast “Bone Valley,” which you can find here.

Reading Guide for Bone Valley

As always, I have broken this down into do-able chunks that will take us through July. Read at your own pace or follow the schedule below. No one is counting your pages and you can join our discussions if you are not on pace.

Week 1 (Apr 21–27): Chapters 1–2 (30 pages)

Week 2 (Apr 28–May 4): Chapters 3–4 (30 pages)

Week 3 (May 5–11): Chapters 5–7 (45 pages)

Week 4 (May 12–18): Chapters 8–10 (45 pages)

[Meeting to chat?? TBD]

Week 5 (May 19–25): Chapters 11–12 (35 pages)

Week 6 (May 26–June 1): Chapters 13–14 (35 pages)

Week 7 (June 2–8): Chapters 15–17 (45 pages)

Week 8 (June 9–15): Chapters 18–20 (45 pages)

[Discussion #2: TBD]

Week 9 (June 16–22): Chapters 21–22 (35 pages)

Week 10 (June 23–29): Chapters 23–24 (35 pages)

Week 11 (June 30–July 6): Chapters 25–26 (40 pages)

Week 12 (July 7–Mid-July): Chapters 27–End (40 pages)

[Wrap Up Zoom Call, Date TBD]

We will meet a few times this summer on Zoom (I’ll send out links at a later date) to chat about this incredible story. I promise, you will never be the same after reading this. Are you joining us? Please R.S.V.P. in the comments, or message me anytime if you will be reading along!

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Also, please be inspired to invite true crime friends—the more the merrier.

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Here is the recording of today’s Zoom Call where we discussed Tolstoy’s Resurrection—a mammoth piece of literary humanity. A huge thank you to those who joined in, and a big welcome to those of you watching now!

TLDR; Tolstoy is a master. Read this book.

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We will meet again on Weds, April 22nd at 1pm (EST) to launch Q2’s Misfit Lit Book Club pick (take poll below). The link for that meeting is [HERE], but I’ll send it out beforehand too!

The Summary of today’s call:

Tolstoy wrote Resurrection as a moral indictment of the criminal justice and prison systems of his time (1890s). More than a century later, the unsettling questions he lobs over the fence still remain unanswered.

Firstly, let us consider his title—

Why do you think Tolstoy named this novel ‘Resurrection’?

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I promise that it was mere coincidence that we have ended this novel just days before Good Friday and Easter—the pinnacle of the Christian Church calendar. For the record, Tolstoy had developed life-changing internal conflicts with the Big C church, and he was openly wrestling with the orthodoxy. He found himself, as is clear in this book, far more invested in his own self-inquiry and moral action rather than institutional rigmarole.

Tolstoy chose to end this book with a reading of Christian texts. Why? Was it helpful to you in driving his points about morality home? Or nah…

When a “system” causes harm, who is responsible?

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Every system is made up of the human parts which make it function. Courts are manned by human beings, laws are written and re-written by human minds, juries are made up of twelve homo sapiens and their human opinions.

If a “court” then gets something wrong, who should be held responsible? Not the judge (who has immunity), nor the lawmakers (who have immunity), nor the juries (who have immunity and anonymity). Essentially, in our model, no one will ever be responsible for taking someone’s life from them wrongly or pronouncing false/harsh/misguided penalties.

In the book, we read about Katyusha being sentenced to hard labor in Siberia over a clerical mistake. A brief misunderstanding in sentencing guidelines results in her being sent away for brutal punishment—and this still happens every day in this country. Who is responsible for wrongful convictions or for abuses in prisons? Could it be us, the taxpayers, who pay to keep it going?

What was the most impactful social encounter of this novel for you?

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We have so many options from which to choose—

1. The rich people eating so grossly, concerning themselves with frivolity, indulging only their senses.

2. The jury.

3. The poor kid who breaks the law out of necessity.

4. Encounters at the prisons.

5. The brother-in-law scene.

6. The visit to the peasants.

7. The exiles who are dropping like flies on the march to Siberia.

8. The visits to officials for help.

9. Insert your own ______________.

Personal Reflection

For me— it was the discussions about prison conditions with “good people” who were “just doing their job.”

A large chunk of this book witnesses Nekhlyudov (a respected person in society) petition authorities, political acquaintances, and corrections staff for reasonable interventions, visitation, and policy clarifications—and he is met with roadblock after roadblock at every turn.

This part of the book is not fiction!!

It often feels like no one really cares when it is your incarcerated loved one who needs someone to intervene with human care. My son went three years without dental intervention, in spite of pain, in spite of him asking for help through proper channels, and in spite of me petitioning from the outside on his behalf through both legal and medical channels.

Over and over again, my concerns fell on deaf ears at the prison level. When I visited the Capitol and met with elected officials about my concerns, they referred back to the hapless D.O.C. for answers. The heads of our D.O.C. will not reply to any requests and the pencil pushers and PR people below them are indifferent, aloof, and rude—on their best day.

IMO, Tolstoy accurately characterizes each of the law men, overseers, officials, and prison employees I have known. They (and their families) will tell you that they are “good” and “just” people doing society a favor by upholding policies. After all, they’re “just doing their job.”

But rules books are not moral, in and of themselves.

Laughing at an inmate in pain is not justice. My son literally had an corrections officer point at him from the control panel of his pod and laugh like a kindergartener would—he said it was a na-na-na-boo-boo moment, a grown man in uniform pointing and laughing. My son was then cuffed up and sent to the hole for telling him to “grow the fuck up.”

So, yeah, coming to work and choosing to treat people less than you does not make you society’s best—I don’t care what badge nor experience you hold. Looking away when someone needs help isn't honorable. In case it needs saying, beating handcuffed and isolated people is low-life behavior—and is far too common for me not to mention in the wake of this book.

Tolstoy knew it in 1899, and ain't shit changed.

Resurrection suggests that the biggest problem isn’t bad laws or prison conditions, but rather the moral indifference of ordinary people.

Other considerations we touched on:

1. Jury deliberation: Even good people on a jury can be instructed wrongly. What moral responsibilities do we have as citizens to be informed jurists? What moral responsibility does the court have to correct errors/delays in sentencing (in real-time, not years later)?

2. Bureaucratic Indifference: People are being paid to look away. When and how do we hold our elected officials accountable for high recidivism rates, death rates, drug smuggling by prison officials?

3. Continued Social Biases: Why did the Oscars snub The Alabama Solution? Why do we still support the death penalty when it has not deterred crime?

4. Prison Failure: “Prison cannot guarantee our safety, because those people don’t stay inside forever. They let them out. It works the other way round: these institutions drag men down to the lowest levels of depravity and vice, and this increases the danger.” Part II, Chapter 34, 1899

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Russian Tea Cakes Recipe

And now, for the fun part.

I have had this recipe for over twenty years, thanks to my incredible chef-friend Karina. It is a worthy throwback this week—to simpler times in my life, to imperfect messes in the kitchen, and chats over [coffee] tea. Here is the OG recipe card:

Ingredients

• 2 cups butter, softened

• 1 cup powdered sugar (plus more for dusting)

• 2 teaspoons vanilla

• ½ teaspoon salt

• ½ teaspoon almond extract

• 4½ cups flour

• 1½ cups nuts (pecans, if you have them)

Instructions

1. Cream together the butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla until smooth and light.

2. Gradually mix in the flour, salt, almond extract, and nuts. The dough will thicken—let it.

3. Form into a ball, cover, and chill in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes.

4. Roll into 1-inch balls and place on a cookie sheet.

5. Bake at 400°F for 8–10 minutes, until just lightly golden.

6. While still warm, dust generously with powdered sugar.

Mostly, enjoy with a friend who lets you be you.

*Gluten free? Dairy Free? → Try [this beautiful recipe] instead.

Our Next Book—

If you haven’t noticed, we read differently here.

The Misfit Lit Book Club is an option for people who want to dig a little, question some things. This is a small group of readers who endeavor to change the world.

Our next book will not be Russian Lit but I promise it will be impacting, nonetheless. If you're interested, you’re welcome to check it out next round. Please take a second to vote for what you would like to read next time (touch the answer you want to vote).

The reveal is coming!

If you think you might want to join in next quarter, reply ‘book club’ or email me to be included in future book club updates.

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Cheers, Gen X—we have finally arrived.

The eye appointment rendered me near-blind for about five hours and, honestly, I didn't handle it well. I got panicky and ridiculously frustrated. If I am blessed to live a long life, it is a certainty that my children will have their hands full. My son in prison often tells me that he intends to repay me for the support I've given him during these years.

He has no idea what he's saying. 😎

By the late afternoon iron infusion, I was able to see again and subsequently opted to immerse myself in Resurrection over the beeping IVs in the bays next to me. Prison stories mixed with medical interventions (fun on top of fun).

In a moment of solidarity, I thought of each of you reading along with me—wherever you are. By the end of the day, I had a profound moment of gratitude that you are here.

Thank you for your presence.

Our Misfit Lit Book Club is inching toward the half-way point of Resurrection (if you're following the reading guide posted HERE). If not, I hope you've dipped your toes in and waded through some juicy morsels of wisdom like this one at the start of Part 1, Chapter 54:

“Another corner was hung with a large icon of Jesus Christ, an essential feature of all places where people come to be tortured, and a mockery of his teaching.”

Tolstoy didn't play.

He researched actual prisoner cases for this book, which he wrote at the height of his critique of the both Russian government and the Orthodox church. Even with heavy censorship, he managed to openly question the Siberian penal transport and expose the condition of the overcrowded prisons of his day.

He also (not subtly) accused the Church of leaving the teachings of Jesus behind to serve themselves.

Not impressed, the Church ex-communicated him in 1901 (two years after Resurrection was published) and the government placed him under close surveillance—his mail was monitored, his visitors were watched, his estate constantly scouted.

The only reason he was not arrested was owning to his social status (yep, that's always been a thing). A famous writer and a war hero, not to mention a wealthy aristocrat, arresting Tolstoy would have caused major backlash.

Like his character Nekhlyudov in Resurrection, Tolstoy confronted what he saw as gross hypocrisy and injustice in human systems—and in case there's any doubt, I'm here for it.

Witnessing Dmitri morph from an uninvolved, unaffected citizen of the world to a man who is appalled by (and determined to change) the realities of incarceration is like seeing my reflection in a mirror. Once we've seen behind the curtain, the Powerful Oz looks rather silly.

What to Watch for in the Middle Sections:

• Prisoner interactions, including a familiar advocacy for one another and acts of supporting themselves in other ways (e.g., selling alcohol inside).

• Prison officials rerouting concerns and complaints about the system to other officials without addressing them (the run-around for prisoners and their families has always existed).

• Notice the nature of so many of the “crimes" Tolstoy details (poverty, addiction, dissent, not having a valid passport).

Here are some additional questions to ponder:

• If you had power inside this system, what would you change first—the laws or the people?

• Is Dmitri's moral awakening redemptive or self-centered?

• Is personal repentance meaningful if systemic harm continues?

• Who in this section feels most alive to you? Who feels mechanical?

• Where do you see modern parallels?

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COMING UP—

Our second Zoom call will be on Friday, March 27 at 1pm to discuss the book in its entirety (or to just show up and chat about whatever). I will make sure that you have the link in advance of the meeting.

ICYMI—

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Here is the recording of today’s Zoom Call Launch of Tolstoy’s Resurrection. For reference, we are reading this together/alone until March 27, 2026. *Our next call will be on that day at 1pm EST.

The link is always HERE.

The Summary of today’s Zoom Call:

Resurrection is not a sprint—it’s an experience. Read slowly. Exploration and questions are part of it.

This book is…

• A courtroom drama

• A moral awakening

• A critique of the justice system, punishment, and social hypocrisy

• Tolstoy’s own confrontation with guilt, responsibility, and change

Guiding questions for us all quarter:

1. Who is more dangerous: a cruel person or an indifferent one?

2. What does it actually mean to be responsible—for another person, for a system, for your past?

3. Can redemption happen without public consequences?”

A Very Brief Russian Literature Primer

Russian novels tend to obsess over:

• Conscience and guilt

• Moral self‑deception

• Social roles and hypocrisy

• The gap between who we think we are and what we do

Please note: Tolstoy wrote Resurrection late in life, after becoming deeply critical of the Church, the legal system, prisons, and punishment (in general)

Russian Names (So You Don’t Panic)

Most characters have three names: First name (given name), Patronymic (father’s name), and a Last name (family name)

Example:

Dmitri Ivanovich Nekhlyudov (Neck-clue-doff)

• Dmitri = first name

• Ivanovich = “son of Ivan”

• Nekhlyudov = last name

Why this matters:

First name + patronymic = formality or respect (used in the courtroom, etc.)

First name alone = intimacy, familiarity, or power imbalance (used in flashbacks or family settings)

Keep an eye out for nicknames/diminutives! This is Tolstoy signaling a change in how we relate to the character. If Dimtri becomes Mitinka, pay attention. Oftentimes names are shared with relation to who is speaking about the character or addressing them. Like grandparents calling their grandson “my little Mitinka” instead of Dmitry.

A Final Blessing—

You don’t need to read fast. You don’t need to understand everything. Just go with it. ;)

Reading along? Reply ‘book club’ or email me to be included in future updates.

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Intrigued, I attempted Anna Karenina three times that year. As a non-trad student taking 16-credit hours while raising three children (and holding a marriage together) this would only serve as more evidence of my innate drive toward madness.

Some people have skydiving on their bucket list—I just want to finish a work of Tolstoy between dinner and the basketball games.

I had a terrible month in December which led me to wander rather long-faced through a bookstore on more than one occasion. Oddly (or perhaps not odd at all), I wound up in the classics section one afternoon, standing melancholy beneath the weight of Russian literature. Oh, how very artistic. I thought of my obsessed professor and pulled War and Peace down, considering again whether I should attempt Tolstoy.

“Nah,” I thought. Life is already too heavy.

And that is how it always goes—

I re-shelved it with a grunt and relapsed into resentment over the heaps of responsibility to which I am Stockhomed. I ran my fingertips along the spines and allowed myself to feel a full discontent until I reached the end of the shelf where someone had misplaced a slim book called Resurrection. It pulled me in the way that a bottle pulls an addict. I picked it up, flipped it over, and began reading: “Serving on the jury at a murder trial…”

And then the Grinch had a wonderful, awful idea.

Announcing the 2026 Misfit Lit Book Club

As with these previous nudges toward justice-informed titles, this rendezvous with a new-to-me Tolstoy felt like manna from heaven. In a flash, I realized that I just might be able to do it all.

I purchased that copy of Resurrection and it rode home with me atop my front passenger seat like a new friend. I moved it to my nightstand where every day since I have pondered if I am bold enough to follow through.

Turns out, I am.

Even if I read this book alone, I’m doing it (and still calling it a book club).

If You Want To Join Me

In my previous polls and questionnaires about meeting up, you told me that you want the Zoom call option (with the ability to watch it later). You also largely asked for a weekday meet-up. I have decided that we will meet twice a quarter, once before and once after the book is read.

Our first chat and introduction will be next Friday, January 23 at 1pm (EST). Join me on Zoom through this LINK (no, you do not have to have read a thing). It will only last 30ish minutes— no, we don’t have to go around and tell who we are. Promise.

Our second Zoom call will be on Friday, March 27 at 1pm to discuss the book or to just show up and enjoy a beverage together like good book clubs do (my birthday is that week so maybe we will have cake).

In the interim, I will put out monthly updates with discussion points, questions, relevant articles, and other thought provoking links for Resurrection. I have broken this into doable chunks (see below) for those of us still making family dinners and sitting in the stands at basketball games.

Together, we will complete a work of Tolstoy together before Easter!

(Eeek. I am so excited.)

About This Novel

Resurrection (1899) was Tolstoy’s final novel, written in his seventies, at the height of his own moral and spiritual inquiry. Though it is often passed over today, it out-sold all of his other works in it’s time.

Unlike War and Peace or Anna Karenina, this book is explicitly concerned with social justice, the corruption of institutions, and the possibility of moral redemption.

The story follows Prince Dmitri, a privileged aristocrat who serves on a jury and recognizes the defendant—Katyusha Maslova, a woman he seduced and abandoned years earlier when she was a servant in his aunt’s house. Her life has spiraled into poverty and prostitution, leading to her false conviction for murder.

Dmitri’s guilt drives him to seek her forgiveness and work for her release which forces him to confront the brutal injustices of our human legal and penal systems. And as we know, even in the 21st century, that is no simple thing. As such, this book is full of keen and relevant insight as well as needed humor to get us through.

Tolstoy is a considered a master of storytelling for a reason, and this is a great chance to find out why. Fiction and non-fiction lovers alike— there is something in this book for you.

Fun Facts

• Resurrection took Tolstoy ten years to write, and it was serialized in a magazine over the course of a year.

• Tolstoy gave ALL of the proceeds from Resurrection to the Doukhobors (a pacifist Christian sect) to help them emigrate to Canada to escape persecution. It was a huge sum of money, and his wife was furious.

• The Russian government and Orthodox Church hated this book. They censored it heavily, especially the parts criticizing the church and legal system. The full, uncensored version wasn’t published in Russia until after the revolution in 1905.

• This work was born out of Tolstoy’s late-in-life admission (to his biographer) of his guilt over impregnating a servant girl earlier in his own life. That child, a boy, lived with him for much of his life.

• Tolstoy saw Resurrection as his most important work—explicitly moral and political. By the time he wrote it, he had denounced his earlier novels as frivolous, shallow entertainment.

• Resurrection was his last full-length novel. He died 11 years after writing it.

Reading Pace Guide

Read at your own pace or follow the schedule below. No one is counting your pages and you can join our discussions without having read a thing:

Week 1 (Jan 16-23): Chapters 1-20 (80 pages)

Week 2 (Jan 24-31): Chapters 21-40 (80 pages)

Week 3 (Feb 1-8): Chapters 41-59 (80 pages)

Week 4 (Feb 9-16): Part II, Chapters 1-10 (65 pages)

Week 5 (Feb 17-24): Part II, Chapters 11-20 (65 pages)

Week 6 (Feb 25-Mar 4): Part II, Chapters 21-28 (50 pages)

Week 7 (Mar 5-12): Part II, Chapters 29-42 (60 pages)

Week 8 (Mar 13-20): Part III, Chapters 1-14 (65 pages)

Week 9 (Mar 21-25): Part III, Chapters 15-28 (51 pages)

If all goes as planned, we will begin a new (more modern) book in April, after a short break. You are welcome to jump in at any point this year. Each quarter will bring a new opportunity.

The point of this whole thing (the point of life, really) is to connect so I am happy to have you pop in even if you just want to say hi, ask questions, or listen to inevitable life updates. Bring your lunch or a hot beverage, a blanket, or whatever else will give you a few minutes of reprieve from regular life. Mostly, thank you for giving me a place to be fully me.

Please R.S.V.P. in the comments or just tell me I’m crazy. That last part I already know.

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Either way, I would love to say that I'm a ‘poetry person’ but I am, frankly, too distracted neurotic impatient.

Somewhere, in a parallel universe, I wile away entire afternoons sipping tea and reading poems next to my dog in front of our fireplace. Inspired and unburdened, I don my overcoat and Wellies to walk across the auburn fields just beyond my home— the dog bounding ahead as I stop to marvel at the blue-fire just beyond the clouds, the geese mapping the world overhead. This version of me is too transfixed and beguiled to be bothered by life’s little dramas.

Meanwhile, in reality, I pass another day huffing over what is for dinner again, forced to admit that I am seldom beguiled. Also, I don't read poetry for fun. Not the adult kind.

I do read Shel Silverstein and Naomi Shihab Nye with my youngest child at tuck-in each night hoping against hope that he will remember me as that mom instead of the one complaining about all of the nonsense in the world while eating handfuls of chocolate chips after dinner. Maybe, when I am 60, when no little people live in my home anymore I'll read poetry for the heck of it. Maybe then, when it is just me and the dog and my melancholia left.

But not this dog— she will be gone by then.

My error might be thinking that I have to live poetry to enjoy it, because there is one exception: I am consumed by the poetry of prisoners these days.

Send me all of the poems written by our incarcerated writers and I DO like them, Sam I Am— in a box, with a fox, in a house, with a mouse— standing over running water at the kitchen sink, losing track of what I was meant to be doing.

If not beguiled, I am at least a glutton for this misery— placing myself where my son lives. Let me find clues that prison can turn a wayward young man tolerable, maybe even wise. Give me proof that my son will turn out okay. Promise me that not all is lost and remind me that some people would give anything to be standing in this kitchen trying to decide what is for dinner ‘again.’

I received a Thank-You note last year after donating to a prison reform event. It was a handwritten note, which was lovely, but it was the stationary that got me. A landscape scene drawn by a prisoner— his name on the back. You know that I couldn't just leave it there. I looked him up on the State offender tracking system, hoping he wasn’t too ‘scary’ (as if I had any right to decide if he was redeemable based upon his picture and charges and release date).

Turns out, he is a murderer.

He stabbed a man in a bar fight in 1984 and was sentenced 60-90 years. His earliest release date is 4/15/2045. If he makes it to that day, he will be 81 years old before he is even eligible to be free in the world again. His name is Troy Chapman.

Well Bridget, someone says, it's one thing to advocate for your son. It's another to start caring about people who kill other people.

Is it though?

At the age of 20, after drinking all night, Troy was confronted by his drinking buddy. The two argued and ended up on the floor in a sloppy tussle. Another man at the bar intervened, picking Troy up and shoving him across the floor. Drunk, young, and impulsive, Troy pulled a knife and stabbed the man who had pushed him. That man died.

Troy wasn't a choir boy. If you read his backstory, you find all of the clichés: absent father, childhood trauma/death, family substance abuse history, juvenile delinquency. And while I do not know his full story, I see myself and my son within some of it. His 20-year-old actions cost him and his family (and another man and his family) the rest of their lives. There but for the Grace of God.

This month’s Misfit Lit choice is Troy’s own words. He has penned a book of poetry called The Knitting Birds and Other Poems.

Admittedly, I have found Troy Chapman way late. He has already received national attention as an author including multiple awards, and he has been featured on NPR and Michigan Radio. He has published three books from inside— one on ethics for prisoners (talk about niche). He is talented, friends— talented enough to keep my impatient, frantic soul reading poetry at my kitchen sink.

He captures familiar scenes from the 1980s like they happened last week: a Formica table, an off-road Pontiac Firebird, his aunt’s pickles from a jar. He writes, in Sonnets to My Children, a love note to the kids that he will never have. He grieves his place in the world and he foreshadows his ultimate death, his inevitable return to the ground, the sum of his life— perhaps limited only to paying a debt.

I do not have permission to share excerpts from the book here but to glimpse his unique perspective, I will share the widely published story he wrote for NPR’s This I Believe series in 2008 called Caring Makes Us Human:

“When the scruffy, orange cat showed up in the prison yard, I was one of the first to go out there and pet it. I hadn't touched a cat or a dog in over twenty years. I spent at least 20 minutes crouched down by the dumpster behind the kitchen as the cat rolled around and luxuriated beneath my attention. What he was expressing outwardly, I was feeling inwardly.

It was an amazing bit of grace to feel him under my hand and know that I was enriching the life of another creature with something as simple as my care. I believe that caring for something or someone in need is what makes us human. Over the next few days, I watched other prisoners responding to the cat. Every yard period, a group of prisoners gathered there. They stood around talking and taking turns petting the cat. These were guys you wouldn't usually find talking to each other.

Several times I saw an officer in the group, not chasing people away, but just watching, and seeming to enjoy it along with the prisoners. Bowls of milk and water appeared, along with bread wisely placed under the edge of the dumpster to keep the seagulls from getting it. The cat was obviously a stray and in pretty bad shape. One prisoner brought out his small, blunt-tipped scissors and trimmed burrs and matted fur from his coat. People said that cat came to the right place. He's getting treated like a king. This was true. But as I watched, I was also thinking about what the cat was doing for us.

There's a lot of talk about what's wrong with prisons in America. We need more programs. We need more psychologists or treatment of various kinds. Some even talk about making prisons more kind. But I think what we really need is a chance to practice kindness ourselves. Not receive it, but give it. After more than two decades here, I know that kindness is not a value that's encouraged. It's often seen as weakness. Instead the culture encourages keeping your head down, minding your own business, and never letting yourself be vulnerable. For a few days, a raggedy cat disrupted this code of prison culture.

They've taken him away now, hopefully to a decent home, but it did my heart good to see the effect he had on me and the men here. He didn't have a Ph.D., he wasn't a criminologist or a psychologist, but by simply saying, I need some help here, he did something important for us. He needed us, and we need to be needed. I believe we all do.”

When I shared this online last week, someone responded, “Well, don't kill people and you won't go to prison.”

I think Troy would agree.

By the miracle of Google, anyone can read of his 40 years of work toward redemption since he murdered another young man. He has used his incarcerated years to openly take responsibility for his actions and to intentionally contribute positively to our society— Certainly, he has given more to others than I ever have.

Not only a writer, Troy has been an integral part of The Wholeness Project within the Michigan Department of Corrections, as well as a dog trainer for Paws With a Cause. He has matured into a man known for teaching, speaking, and writing from a philosophy of non-violence rather than from the beaten down soul of a hardened, caged criminal. Supporting his work is supporting real change in a human being— a thing that prison alone could never do.

You can buy Knitting Birds HERE.

You can also read more about Troy in two places. The first is on a blog called Friends of Troy Chapman. The other is at The Prison Journalism Project, where he is a frequent contributor. If (after learning more) you would like to have Troy’s sentence reconsidered, you can add your name HERE or contact Michigan's parole board and the governor. Both have denied him commutation multiple times but if I am honest, given the givens, I would feel safer with this man as my neighbor than many of the politicians in my State.

Happy reading, fellow misfits! Stay tuned for fall book club details, and please tell me what YOU think of poetry in the comments!

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Please, don't judge me.

Before I realized that I was just another fallible human, I used to think that I was morally obligated to finish every book I had started— like some mighty omniscient was watching, scoring, docking points. I owned a bookstore for God's sake, hadn't I dutifully finished them all?

Even though I am the type of person who will endure a back spasm in silence to politely hear about your deaf dog or transplanted daylilies, I am no longer engaged in guilt-reading. I have become a selfish little brat who will put a book down immediately if it is wasting my time cuz I have less time than I've ever had on this planet and I'm already panicking that I'll never get to all of the books on my ‘Want To Read' list on Good Reads. It's at 365 and rising by at least two a week thanks to Substack.

Also— if I'm airing my full brattiness— when a book reaches a bestseller spot before I have read it, I will be damned if I’ll be goaded into it just because #BookTok says it is good. I will not be influenced by influencers because Oprah burned me a few times and ever since that scene in What About Bob?, I have understood that morning-show author interviews are a complete sham. Jenna Bush Hagar and even cutie-patoot Reese Witherspoon will not peer-pressure me into my next summer read, thankyouverymuch. I don’t even do fun beach reads.

My book club hates me, btw.

Not that I need to defend my reasons here (cuz who cares?), but this might all come up in an author interview of my own someday and I want to ‘get ahead of it.’ I’ll look away from the camera ala Cillian Murphy and say, Oh— I am not big on popularity knowing full well that I signed all of my high school yearbooks, “Save this, it might be worth money someday” followed by my big, chubby signature. Seriously. Those yearbooks might be worth a few dollars now but only because they're relics and retro and a glimpse into time before the internet— not because I have made it anywhere.

The truth is that I do want to be popular but in a more distant, mysterious, Marion Cotillard way. It is also true that I am majorly unimpressed by famous people and the amount of time spent on the viral hysterias they spawn. I blame all of this on that one time during my junior year when a cute, popular boy called me fat really loudly in front of all of his popular friends in the hallway. Instead of confronting him directly, I tossed a Big Gulp full of Mountain Dew over the open top of his Jeep Wrangler in a Taco Bell parking lot the following weekend— I will even take a Billy the Kid kind of fame if necessary.

Anyway, I was the weird girl watching Tora, Tora, Tora in 6th grade when everyone else was into Dirty Dancing. Neither a Backstreet nor a NSYNC girl— I was into Led Zeppelin and the Allmans and Blind Melon (the damn bee song aside). I was not into 90210 nor Friends nor Greys Anatomy. I didn’t even do Lost when everyone kept telling me that I looked ‘just like’ Evangeline Lily. Nope— I am more a reruns of Colombo kind-of-girl, which (side note) came in handy in my career as a therapist. When the professor of my therapeutic interventions class referenced the brilliance of Peter Falk's “Just one more thing" confrontation style as a useful therapy tool, I laughed out loud. Everyone else looked at her, and me, unamused.

Okay, okay— I will admit that I did love the uber-popular In Living Color in it’s heyday which, omg if you haven’t seen what the mainstream comedy world got away with in the 90s— YouTube, please. I just watched a throwback clip of Damon Wayans as Handy Man on Instagram in utter disbelief that it actually happened. Y’all, we did not give a damn.

That lapse in judgment aside, if something leans toward pop culture, I will lean away— not because I am better than anyone but because I do not want to be told what to like and I am hopelessly skeptical of other people's ‘sources’ of ‘inspiration.’

So, you'll understand why when DM’d me to suggest a title for my Misfit Lit series, I approached with caution. I admire Kelly very much. She has been nothing but kind and transparent and a role model to me since Black Sheep Mom began but she had typed, “My choice for the Pulitzer” with the link and I thought, Well, we’ll see about that. I clicked her link with one eye shut, brat that I am.

And there it was: The Enchanted by Rene Denfeld.

I opened Good Reads to investigate further. Turns out, it was already on my bloated ‘Want To Read’ list. Several years ago, in some rush of excitement, no doubt, I placed it on my literary to-do before I got busy with work and the birth of a child and a son in prison and then I got really sick and in all of this L-I-V-I-N, I forgot about it’s haunting, deep, and dark description:

“The enchanted place is an ancient stone prison, viewed through the eyes of a death row inmate…”

Now THAT is my type of beach read.

But, there it was, beneath several years of newer recommendations— which made me feel bad as an aging woman because I wouldn’t want the author to know that I had passed her up for the flirts du jour. I am slightly embarrassed that when newer criminal justice books like Framed by John Grisham (highly recommend) and Long Bright River by Liz Moore came into my lusting peripheral, I was lured elsewhere. I also recently read A River Is Waiting by Wally Lamb (yes, I know it's a bestseller and an Oprah Book Club pick) and Free by . I had even succumbed to our book club’s underwhelming pick I Have Some Questions for You, allowing it to bury The Enchanted for another year. What a shame.

Humbly, I would also submit The Enchanted for the Pulitzer, and Kelly, please send me the rest of your reading list. We are now BFFs.

Because I was traveling a lot last month, I opted for the audio version. In my brain, forevermore, this book will be synonymous with Upstate New York and with the many foreboding prison-compounds that I passed while listening. It helps that the voiceover was devastatingly competent.

Though the author describes the book’s setting to be within a "stone fortress" among walls that “weep from the omnipresent Pacific Northwest moisture”— it matters not. An old, stone American prison is an old, stone American prison. Death row is death row. The regrets and limitations and aches of prison life are hard and fixed from coast to coast.

But— before you wander into this book you should be warned.

It will feel like a descent into hell. Each sentence leads to another like a walk down a dark, narrow, sparsely-lit hallway. You will spend hours in a dungeon where you cannot see more than a few feet in front of you, and it is claustrophobic. You will question your own mind and judgment. You may even start to wonder why you deserve such richness in this life, even if you haven’t ever killed anyone.

This book is slow and cautious— offering no courtesies nor explanations. The plot is subtle. The characters, though mostly nameless (e.g., The Lady), are people whom you have met in your own life and, if you think about it too long, you'll realize that you didn't bother to name them either.

Where this book lacks in sunshine, it makes up in a jungle-dense lusciousness of language. The author makes an art of describing the indescribable: the inner workings of a prison, the inner thoughts of a man on death row, the fragility of our shared human condition. There are moments of tenderness that take you awhile to get over and there are horrors that make you hate that you know what other human beings are capable of.

While this book is a devastating triste of human depravity, it manages— somehow— to be an artifact of hope while avoiding the ‘inspirational’ trope or attempting to employ flat ironies and dumb metaphor. The Enchanted stands alone as the most haunting prison fiction that I have ever, and may ever, read.

Of course, I had to research Rene Denfeld half-way through. She knew too much to have just interviewed some folks or visited a prison— I knew, instinctively, that she had lived it. You can’t describe prison walls like that nor know of the complication of conversations with the incarcerated unless you have actually sat with them in the flesh. She is one of us, I thought.

And she is.

Not only did Ms. Denfeld spend two decades working as a licensed investigator (once for a public defender’s office), she held a caseload of death row inmates and sex-trafficked individuals during her career. In addition to those professional horrors, she comes from Capital T trauma of her own and her stepdad is a sex-offender, so, we have that in common too.

Snooty, anti-fan girl that I am, I admit to completely fan-girling over here. As an author, she has so completely depressed me that I shall either give up now and call this whole living thing a lost effort or pinky promise myself to keep writing, to keep talking about all that I've seen being in and around American prisons. Because, while The Enchanted is fiction, I assure you that it is not.

*If you have read this one, please tell us what you thought in the comments (even if you disagree with my ravings). If you want to create a thread over this or any other thing, please take it to our chat! Know that I am still working on a Live book club option, mostly likely for this Fall. 🖤 Lastly, if you want more in-your-face honesty, please check out Kelly Thompson's Substack: There Is Nothing Wrong With You and There Never Was.

They feature a new, young realtor in town with a name and face that I know as a boy who played against my son in every season of our small-town high school sports circuit— back when. That teen rival is now a man, all big toothed and happy and [seemingly] successful. I’ll be damned if he isn’t all over the county big as a building, smirking down at me in victory.

Okay— I am actually just mad that my son is in prison while that kid is still showing off. I would love to share some scandal about him or his family but they are nice people with nice Christmas cards. We are nice people too, but the mugshots kinda detract.

I am not sure what value I am offering to you, dear reader, other than a front row seat to the dirt parade. Somehow, I signed myself up to wave atop a slow moving bed of tangled chicken wire and tissue paper pom-poms holding a sign that says “Ms. Prison Mom 2025!” #Winning #GoTeam #SmallTownBigHeart

I know you aren't judging. You’re lovely. But you are not reading Black Sheep Mom for the Delights (ala Ross Gay) nor the Consciousness Upgrades (ala Danielle LaPorte). You are here witnessing our current suck like neighbors do when an ambulance is in the driveway next-door. Thankfully, you are the neighbor who brings a casserole because you know the Truth and you have ridden atop your own float of shame or sadness once or twice. You are my people, and I don't consider it rubber-necking if you are in the parade too.

In the interest of our community, then, I am launching a monthly book recommendation post. I'm calling it Misfit Lit.

I’m no Oprah but once upon a time, I was a brick-and-mortar bookstore owner. We had Wi-Fi when people didn’t know how to pronounce Wi-Fi and we had organic, fair trade coffee before people were willing to pay more for it and we had Slam Poetry nights that folks drove 4 hours to attend. We defended our lonely fort1 until late 2008, after which justifying more personal debt for my obsession would have been financial suicide. We held an Irish wake and gently put her to sleep before another holiday inventory order would have foreclosed my home.

Along this journey, I have realized that getting and sharing knowledge is my jam. If my face isn’t in a book, it is watching a documentary or listening to Wrongful Conviction podcasts that have to be paused when my 7-year-old comes into the room— “They are saying swears again, mom.” I am also the intolerable Book Club member who offers sharp critiques of shallow fiction and refuses to keep reading when “she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding” pops off a page again. Nope. Life is too short and torturous already.

So, without further ado, here is our first Misfit Lit recommendation: You Have The Right to Remain Innocent by James Duane.

While it is smaller than a Reader's Digest— and just as worthy a piece of toilet literature at only 119 pages— it is a master class and a collection of devastating short stories in one.

Given the upcoming celebration of America's concept of freedom, it is a timely choice, and it also makes a lovely graduation gift because God knows none of us learned any of it in our formal educations. This is THE information that cops give to their own children— and keep from the rest of us. You Have The Right To Remain Innocent will blow your mind but if you are American, it might also save your kid's life or at least save you from having to write a blog about their prison time.

Here is the link to this selection at your local bookshop. Here is (ugh) the Amazon one. If you are too busy to sit and read the hard copy, try the audio version through Hoopla or Spotify or Audible. If you’re traveling or you prefer videos, watch this TedTalk (ish) lecture from the Cato Institute with the author. A lecture is actually what got him a big ‘ol book deal (which he also discusses in this video, fellow authors).

And now, unexpectedly, my bookseller brain is spinning again—

I am thinking live book club nights or a monthly Zoom call for Black Sheep Mom readers. Maybe a chat thread where we can type “Holy Cats! I HAD NO IDEA!” and get a compassionate response. Perhaps this will evolve into a justice (or “Just Us”) bedtime story hour. Maybe someday I too will be giving cars away to the entire audience. And now you can see why I went broke in 2008.

If you like this post, please click the heart at the top or bottom to let me know. If you have a minute, drop your thoughts in the comments— Do you want a chat from me? A live book club? What are your best Misfit Lit recommendations? Also, are we still doing casseroles— yeah or nay?

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