Ellen Barker's favorite eye-opening books about life during and after prison

I loved the characters in this novel, both the “ordinary” people and the quirky ones. And the non-human ones.

I loved how each character’s backstory and front story came out over time and sometimes merged and sometimes stayed quiet. I loved how the main and minor plots merged and separated and did not always go where I thought they would go. I loved that the story sometimes seemed predictable, and then, like real life, didn’t go as planned.

Most of all, I love how the author constructed a novel about a tough subject that didn’t drag me down into hopelessness and also didn’t turn out all sunshine and kittens. As a bonus, I learned some pretty cool things about parrots.

This was the first book I ever read dealing with life in prison, and it took me into a world way beyond my own.

The prisoner who wrote it was, like me, a corporate office worker (although unlike me, he killed someone). This book took me right into prison with him, directly from the courtroom. I could feel and hear and see and smell this utterly alien place, this community of people that has its own structure and its own rules, and where nothing that worked in your past life has any relevance.

A big part of why I love this book is the humor in the author’s outlook and writing style—so I got to laugh occasionally, especially when he would describe trying to apply his MBA training to the situations he encountered on the inside. 

First of all, this book is hilarious. Second of all, it made me cry.

A trans woman leaving a men’s prison? After twenty years inside? With nowhere to go that will meet the requirements of her parole? Never mind meeting her requirements in the way of wardrobe. So this novel was quite a ride for me, right from page one. Although I have nothing in common with Carlotta, I somehow found myself identifying with her, and I was hooked. I can’t explain it.

I’m fussy about grammar and punctuation—until this book, which had my head spinning with mid-sentence switch-ups between first person and third person, between prison-speak and whatever I speak, between using and not using punctuation and sentence structure. I loved every minute, every sentence.

Women’s prison was something I never thought about, until I picked up this memoir because I was curious about the title (and was completely wrong about it).

How a Smith graduate with a job as a New York creative ended up in prison was interesting, but once she walked inside, I was spellbound. I got caught up in the sadness, the fear, the drama, the boredom, and the unfairness of (no period products??).

This book was as eye-opening as it was mesmerizing. 

Allen Eskens is adept at melding literary fiction with crime, mystery, suspense, and psychological thriller.

In this book, his lawyer-protagonist (Boady) is trying to save two unrelated people: the teen-aged Emma, but also Elijah, who is locked up in a psychiatric hospital, convicted of murder. And he has to save himself.

I love how these stories are interwoven, how Boady struggles with family, his work with the Innocence Project, and his own grief, fears, and failings. I found the Elijah story especially gripping—to save Elijah, he must unpick the knots that keep Elijah from helping himself, and at the same time he must gently undo brainwashing at the hands of a devious aunt.