You Have The Right To Remain Innocent
A Book Recommendation
Our area has new billboards. I drove past them this week with an overwhelming urge to flip them the bird.
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?
I will walk in your parade, follow a chat and attend a book club. You are, to me, offering to lead a group to find understanding and I’m always down for that 🤗❤️
It's not just reading about the "dirt parade." These are great sentences (for example):
"I’ll be damned if he isn’t all over the county big as a building, smirking down at me in victory."
"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'm all for chatting about the book recs, am always looking for more to read, especially though not exclusively stuff I can also teach about, and love chatting ideas, too.