Launching the 'Pentridge Trilogy'

(or trifecta, as some of my friends are calling it!)

I invited local award-winning poet and educator Sarah Temporal, the convenor of the very successful Poets Out Loud performances, to launch the books. I was thrilled with the things she said! 

Here she is making the speech:

And here is what she said:

My name is Sarah Temporal. I’m thrilled to be with you today to launch this wonderful trilogy from Rosemary Nissen-Wade. When Rosemary invited me, I had no idea how profound this work would be. As she declares: it’s a pilgrimage. And, what a privilege it is as a reader to walk that pilgrimage with her. 

 

'What is the story you have never told?' she ponders. 'The one that will free you to tell all the rest'. 

 

In the heyday of Melbourne's notorious Pentridge Prison in the 80s, Rosemary Nissen (as she was known then) introduced a series of poetry workshops for the inmates, including those in the high security division. She did not know that there she would encounter both love and tragedy.

This extraordinary trilogy comprises: the memoir of her life-changing experiences there, Breaking Into Pentridge Prison: Memories of Darkness and Light; the re-released anthology of prisoners' poetry created in those workshops, Blood From Stone; and a chapbook of Rosemary's own poems and prose-poems, revealing for the first time the most personal aspect of that story, Letters to a Dead Man. 

 

One of my catch-cries is: poetry is for everyone. As a poetry educator and community arts producer I know that the most incredible poetry does not belong to universities or libraries, that it flourishes anywhere there is a willing listener and permission to share what's most important. And when I first met Rosemary to chat about starting a poetry night here in Murwillumbah, I was thrilled to learn that she had been a key player in the Melbourne-based poetry movement that inscribed those values on Australian poetry. The Poets Union / 'rat bag school of poetry' as they called themselves insisted that poetry should reflect and be represented in the reality of people's lives, wherever that was. Behind the bluestone walls of Pentridge there were poets… Rosemary went in at their request.

 

And yet I was not prepared for this book. Breaking Into Pentridge Prison recounts with compelling honesty and stark precision the experiences of those workshops. The electric atmosphere of free expression, deepening conversation in an environment that prohibited any kind of vulnerability. Friendships developing with men she calls 'Youngest,' 'Tallest,' 'Sweet-face.' Navigating mind games, threats, stresses and strains; and the toxic atmosphere leaking into life outside. 'Pentridge would warp anyone.' 

 

Yet, most surprising, the central personal thread is a love story. Which I can't spoil for you now – I can tell you that I found it affirming and heartbreaking all at once. I was so invested I couldn't put it down. I don't think it could have been handled by any other writer. 

 

One of the remarkable achievements of this memoir is that Rosemary fastidiously avoids any sensationalism in her descriptions of the prison and its horror. It makes the work all the more impactful, I feel, to follow an author who deals in the utmost integrity with her subjects: placing humanity at the centre, even in a setting that denied these men humanity in some cases their entire adult lives. 

 

Although each of these works stands alone, they will make you hungry for more: dip into any one and you’ll start seeking and gathering threads of the other two. 

 

The prisoners' own works are anthologised in Blood from Stone, capturing the reality of life behind prison walls as only they can. These poems are a cry from the deepest parts of human experience; a cry to he heard. Included alongside the workshop participants' poetry, at their insistence, are also pieces from visiting poets who tutored there: Myron Lysenko, Linda Stevenson, Nicholas G Coleman, and Rosemary herself. 

 

Letters to a Dead Man, I read breathlessly. I have never before understood how vital the link between poetry and memory is: here is a whole personal history that is so alive and immediate, as if it happened yesterday. These poems vibrate, a mark of having been carried for half a lifetime. As poet Chris Mansell says, Rosemary has been able to make love walk through time although it cannot walk through walls.  

 

This is a body of work that gives voice to the most pivotal and profound experiences. Tenderly, poetically, and with unflinching directness, Rosemary brings to light an important social history that might otherwise lie forgotten. More importantly though, she shares with us the most intimate of human stories; one that, I hope, sets her free to tell all the rest. 

 

I am excited for all of you to delve into reading these books, to enjoy, discover, to witness and treasure these remarkable stories and poems. It is my pleasure to declare the Pentridge trilogy launched.

OMG! NIGHTMARE!

Don’t worry, it was a literal nightmare, not a metaphorical one. But horrifying while I was experiencing it. 

I wouldn’t be a bit stressed about these books, by any chance?

Background

The local printer I chose is not primarily a book printer, also some of her equipment was wrecked last year in the latest and worst of our recent big floods, so she currently sends those jobs out to what she calls her production team. They do a beautiful job of the physical production; however they managed to print the wrong version of the memoir – the one BEFORE I had corrected the hard copy printer’s proof. This has meant a reprint, at no extra cost to me. That took the printer, who was as upset as I was, some time to negotiate. I was then asked to go through and highlight particular pages where the correct version differed from what I got. After that it seemed to take forever, and I have been getting toey because I'm eager to send out review copies, invitations to the launch, etc. I'm releasing the three books as a package, so the other two titles have had to wait until this one is finalised.

We had definite word the books would be with the printer last Friday and with me by Monday. This did not happen. Following my Tarot reading, indicating that someone was sitting on them, I phoned the printer. She contacted the production team again, and was told they had been dispatched, but only yesterday. I will get them today. Whew! (Part of me says I'll believe it when I see it.)

That's what I went to sleep with.

In the nightmare ...

The book launch was taking place at my friend Maureen’s home. 

In real life this has never been the planned venue. But Maureen has always been very supportive of me, and did a lot of fund-raising to help get me to Texas in 2006 when I was a guest of the Austin International Poetry Festival – which provided my accommodation while I was there, and other perks, but not my travelling costs from Australia. I can see how the dream would have come up with this scenario, particularly as I have had to find a new venue at short notice for the launch of these books. 

All was going well. The guests took refreshment, seated around long tables, while an old friend of Maureen’s and mine said lovely things about me in a launching speech. Stacks of the three books which make up my ‘trilogy’ were dotted around the room for people to purchase later. Then suddenly Maureen told me there wasn’t much time left, as the speechifier had gone on a bit long, and people were expecting the event to end shortly. I looked for a copy of the memoir to read something from that as planned. The only copy I could put my hands on was wrapped in a sheet of paper on which the head of the printer’s production team had written all the reasons why he could not completely carry out my instructions for corrections, and what he had done instead. The book itself was a mess! Some of the corrections were on pages badly pasted over the old ones. Others he hadn’t done at all. And that was the only copy I could find. I clutched it, aghast, with no idea what to do next.  

Thankfully, I then woke up.

Yes, I am anxious. I had asked to see a hard copy proof of the corrected version but that request got lost somewhere. The printer assures me she has checked everything very carefully this time. I won’t be happy until they are delivered this afternoon and I can go through the reprint in detail.

(Meanwhile I am hosting the online community Poets and Storytellers United today, preparing for a post-class review of my latest Reiki II students at my home in two days' time, choosing one of my Beltane poems for the next gathering of the local Goddess circle, and drafting a launch invitation as well as a press release for potential book reviewers. Slowing down in my senior years? Not much.)

Image in the Public Domain.  Edvard Munch, 1893, The Scream, oil, tempera and pastel on cardboard, 91 x 73 cm, National Gallery of Norway.jpg

It's All Happening!

Oh wow – with what I am now calling The Pentridge Trilogy  (i.e. my memoir, Breaking Into Pentridge Prison; a new edition of the prison anthology Blood from Stone; and my spin-off chapbook, Letters to a Dead Man) everything keeps falling readily into place. The latest is that just when I need the printer, who lives in Melbourne, to show me some cover stock to make a choice from, it happens that he is visiting this area and will be in my town tomorrow! How's that for perfect timing, synchronicity etc.?

My lovely book designer and her husband and young daughters came through on a holiday road trip not long ago, and took a quick detour to meet me over coffee. A lovely family altogether, delightful to meet. She and I already had great rapport via emails and texts; getting acquainted in person only confirmed it. She has been working extraordinarily hard on my project, even while travelling. I have been doing a fair bit of work myself, to make sure the manuscripts are perfect. It’s all coming to fruition very well.

We’ve settled on launch dates: October 14 in Melbourne, and November 12 (my birthday) in my own locality. They’ll be weekend afternoon events, which hopefully should suit most people.

I’ve asked local poet and educator, my dear friend Sarah Temporal, the moving spirit behind Poets Out Loud, to do the honours with the local launch, which will be held at Pulp Fiction bookshop.

The Melbourne launch will be in Pentridge, which is no longer a prison. I wrote in my memoir that I had no intention of ever setting foot in there again, but writing that book has enabled me to contemplate things which for a long time I couldn’t. No doubt it will be emotional, but also, perhaps, a kind of completion.

I’ve invited Ray Mooney, an ex-inmate (shortly before my time there) and now a noted author and playwright, to officiate at the Melbourne launch. Peter Norden, once Pentridge chaplain, these days a distinguished criminologist and author, has consented to contribute a Foreword to the new edition of Blood from Stone, for which Ray has also provided some thoughtful commentary.

It’s exciting and a bit overwhelming all at once.

All Quiet on the Memoir Front?

 

Yes and no. Certainly I have been quiet about it, here, for a little while!

Interrupted by life

My cover designer / book designer (same person) is currently on a road trip around Australia with her family – which is exciting, as we hope to meet up in person for the first time when they get to these parts, and for her to meet the cover artist too (who happens to be a neighbour of mine). 

This trip was already planned when she agreed to help me, so she is working around it. Before it began, she brought my memoir to a good place to be able to pause, and will be resuming when she arrives back home. We are still looking at a launch later this year.

Meanwhile, as you may recall, we have been making plans to launch, simultaneously, a new edition of Blood from Stone, the poetry anthology which resulted from the Pentridge Prison workshops in the eighties, which are the subject of the memoir. I’ve asked a noted criminologist with knowledge of that prison to write a new Foreword. He too is away travelling at present (overseas) but has expressed interest.

Exciting news

Most exciting of all, he tells me he knows of several of the contributors: that many are still alive ‘and some are quite established in their new lives’. What wonderful news! Although he has no contact details, I am hoping there may be some way he could help me locate them. I still need renewed copyright permission, if possible, from about half the poets in the collection. Apart from which, it would just be so good to know which ones are doing well. Although I only kept in touch with a couple (for reasons which the memoir explains) I regarded them as friends.

Revising the plans

I had thought of making the re-issue of Blood from Stone a facsimile edition, but the original is so old, as well as having been created before the digital era, that scans just didn’t work well enough. I ended up retyping the whole thing – but it was labour of love – and adding a new explanatory note about the way the poems are arranged.

As much as possible, though, it will resemble the appearance of the first edition, including that brilliant cover. 

Is two good company, but three a crowd?

I’ve also created a small spin-off chapbook of my own poems, written during the time of the workshops and since. My cover artist is currently working on an image for this book.

It is definitely connected to the other two books, but is much more personal, much less social history. And even though it’s short, I wonder if launching THREE books at the same time would be a bit much – even if I kept all prices low – and not necessarily for monetary reasons anyhow.

Would this slim volume be overshadowed by the others? Or might it deflect some of the attention they deserve?

Would I do better to release it a bit later? Or should it be tied to the others officially, as it is in fact? 

Perhaps they should come as a package, to be sold together? But no, that would limit potential customers' right of choice.

Decisions, decisions…. Your opinions and suggestions are welcome!

Photo, of one of the old Pentridge buildings, © David A Nissen 2022

'Blood from Stone' cover © Allan Williams 1982

The Universe Wants This Memoir To Happen!

Well OK, I’m being a bit tongue-in-cheek – but still, I’m amazed at how, suddenly, everyone I need to help me make it happen is turning up out of the woodwork, so to speak.

The people behind Pentridge Voices have been supportive from the moment they found out about this memoir through one of my posts on Instagram. One of them invited me to a book launch they were having. I explained that I live much too far away from Melbourne these days; then asked, out of curiosity, if this was a PV publication. She said no, self-published by the author, but she was the cover designer.

‘Aha!’ I said. ‘I need a cover designer.’

We started a conversation, tossed around ideas….

I had morning tea with a friend-and-neighbour. In telling her what I’d been up to lately, I said I’d found a cover designer for the memoir, and was still trying to decide on the artwork. Then it dawned on me.

‘You’re an artist!’

Long story short, she was thrilled to be hired for this commission, and has already delivered the result to the cover designer.  (I love what she did, but I’m not making it public until the book appears.)

Recently I put out a call for any photos of me which anyone might have from the time in which this story took place. I discovered I didn’t have any myself! (It was the era of polaroids, and mine haven’t lasted.) This was for a cover idea my artist friend had. We got one – not at all suitable for what she had in mind, but it will be a good one to put somewhere else in the book to indicate how I looked then, in place of a newspaper photo I had which is too grainy and also poses copyright problems. Meanwhile the artist found an even better idea for the cover.

Then I decided to add to the story. I had hesitated to include some details for fear of swamping the social history aspect with the personal – then I realised that everything I could say was contingent on it having happened in a prison anyway, that prison in particular, and that there were things I needed to include to give a fuller picture. But how and where to insert that material into a manuscript I had considered complete? I went into overwhelm.

A writer friend posted on facebook a semi-humorous complaint about trying to rewrite and edit her memoir and deciding it was all a load of crap. I made a comment about fellow-feeling, adding that I thought I needed a good professional editor but didn’t know where to find one. My friend immediately alerted another friend of hers who happens to be one. We agreed on a manuscript assessment rather than a full edit of something that’s been very well workshopped, plus some small tweaks she ‘couldn’t resist’.

I’ve noticed that many self-published books are let down by poor editing, but I think my English expression is pretty good. Also, I’m afraid I have a very low opinion of some editors I’ve encountered, who have lacked emotional intelligence, allowing theoretical correctness to take precedence over the needs of the story, e.g. correcting slang or bad grammar used in dialogue, even though it was true to the character who was speaking.

This lady, however, seemed to understand exactly what I needed, and came recommended by a trusted friend – and I was feeling desperate.

Her suggestions were few but crucial. They made me realise that my writing had become a tad idiosyncratic over the years, which may be fine in poetry but not necessarily right for non-fiction. I couldn’t fail to see how her advice improved the work. Furthermore she was beautifully sensitive to keeping my voice and honouring what I wanted to convey.

Also she knows her background stuff, and was able to inform me that the Tolkien estate is notoriously difficult about granting permission to quote from his published works – so there went a quote I had planned to use as a motif. I did some rewriting of an early chapter to convey a similar idea without plagiarism. Then I had some free marketing advice from a good friend who is a professional in that field, to the effect that I needed the word ‘prison’ in my title.

The book is now called Breaking Into Pentridge Prison, with the subtitle: Memories of Darkness and Light.

So the text is now complete, the cover is happening, and the various other practical things which have to be handled are all falling into place.

I’m planning to simultaneously issue a new edition of Blood from Stone, the poetry anthology which grew out of the Pentridge workshops. The intention is to publish in the second half of this year.

************

Meanwhile, I’d like to get renewed permission from the poets in Blood from Stone to use their work in the new edition. It’s not absolutely essential but it is preferable. 

I have permission from those I’m still in touch with. 

Can anyone tell me where to find the following, or their families if they are deceased? 

George Brinkmann, Lou Burchielli, Peter James Dawson, Allen Fairless, Mark Houching, John J. Price, Cheryl Rolland, and the cover artist Allan Williams.

Photo above, of the entrance to Pentridge, © David A Nissen 2023.

So whatever’s happening with that memoir, then?

Don’t worry, I’m impatient to get it out there into the world. But I also want it as good as I can get it.  So this is what's been happening:

Editing

I’ve expanded it a bit, including some things I didn’t at first. It’s a bit of a hybrid, both social history and personal story, so it’s tricky getting the right balance between the two, while taking care of readers’ expectations so they know from the beginning it will be both. I think I was a little too cautious at first.

Now it’s having a really final proofread and edit … hoping there won’t turn out to be another ‘really truly final’ one and so on. But no, I think this is it. I put it aside for a few weeks and didn’t look at it, trying not to even think about it, so as to come back with a fresh eye. It was a good decision; I’m picking up stuff now that I might not have seen without the break.

Cover

I think I’ve found my cover designer! Which is very exciting. It’s an area in which I have no expertise, so I needed someone. She’s not available immediately, but then I think I’d be extraordinarily lucky to find anyone good who was. Meanwhile I also have some artist friends close and handy who are willing to advise on the cover image if necessary, and perhaps help create one. (Though I’ll probably go with a photo.)

Publisher

I’ve been looking into the self-publishing idea. It poses some unexpected logistical problems. But I have several friends who are small publishers, who might be willing to take it on – or to help in an ‘assisted self-publishing’ scenario. (There are businesses which exist specifically to do that, but from my observation their fees are exorbitant and they don’t produce very good results anyway.) If all else fails, a relative with technical expertise is willing to handle it for me. So that bit’s still somewhat up in the air, but should be resolved soon.

And, for the rest ...

As for the other books I plan – I feel the memoir must come first.

So, for a little while longer, keep watching this space!

Photo © David A Nissen 2022

The Perils of Publishing

(Decisions, decisions …)

‘Why did you decide that you should self-publish the works in question?’ asked a friend — meaning the Pentridge memoir and related volumes I have planned. 

‘Did you send out manuscripts and get rejections?’ [No.] ‘Or was it more to do with not wanting to be edited by others? Or something else?’

Another expressed the opinion that self-publishing is, in practical terms, no more useful than vanity publishing these days and that my memoir (which she has read) ‘deserves better’.

Well, it’s like this –

One reason I decided to self-publish the Pentridge memoir and the spin-off chapbook is that I realised quite belatedly that I had prepared them that way — because I’m used to doing that. In recent years I’ve mostly self-published. Well, sort of. 

I had a great collaboration with a small publishing and design firm in America, run by online friends with whom I first connected through poetry. I was employed to do some editing work for them, and when I wanted to create books of my own, they helped with the practicalities of turning my manuscripts into ebooks. By which I mean they did all that technical work for me, and gave me the use of their imprint and ISBN numbers too. So it wasn’t exactly self-publishing; only that they trusted me to take care of editing my own texts. (I worked as a professional editor for them and others for a number of years.) 

But family reasons have forced my American publishers to scale down their business and they can no longer take care of me. 

Well, many self-publishers do all the practical stuff themselves; and I don’t want to pay the sort of fees charged by the various ‘assisted self-publishing’ businesses, so….

How hard can it be? I thought. I watched some YouTube tutorials; I picked the brains of friends who have successfully self-published in this digital era. And I felt daunted! (Even though those friends said, ‘If I can do it, you can.’) 

Then I looked up the Thorpe-Bowker Australia website, which is where to obtain ISBN numbers – and found several packages to make self-publishing easier, at very reasonable prices. Way to go!

Besides, I told myself, various Australian publishers I might try would have lists, and a volume with a niche market (even if accepted) wouldn’t be likely to go to the front of the queue. And they might want me to make it more sensational, for the sake of sales, whereas I’m still keeping faith with guys who trusted me way back then — who, when we produced the Blood from Stone anthology, insisted on being presented primarily as poets. I tell the truth in my memoir, but I don’t identify the prisoners, nor share stories that aren’t mine to tell.

Their pull-no-punches poems already told what they wanted to share with the world. And I’d very much like to re-issue Blood from Stone at this time. But that’s another problem. There are copyright issues. (Another reason to self-publish. I’m not sure an established publisher would wish to enter this murky water.) Legal advice is that, because of the 40-year time lapse, I would need to get the participants’ permission all over again. I have been able to do that with some, but most I’ve long lost touch with. I don’t even know how many are still alive. All the guys I knew would have been happy for me to republish them – but that was then, and people can change in unforeseen ways. 

There is a legal loophole: I can in good faith make every attempt to trace them, then publish and put a note in the book to that effect, even if I don’t succeed in finding them all. 

But how? A friend who is interested in this venture asked Correctional Services if they could help by at least finding records of the guys’ families at the time they were imprisoned. Correctional Services said they’re far too busy! (OK, one hears they are short-staffed, and they certainly have more immediate priorities.)

‘Bring me copies of the Melbourne papers,’ I told my son when he visited recently, thinking I could put notices in the Classifieds. He was pleased that he managed to find copies of The Age and Herald Sun when he was already at the airport. Hmmm, not the newspapers I remember — but I left Melbourne in 1994. Then I discovered they don’t contain classified ads any more!!!

How on earth do I try and trace people now? I haven’t found them on social media so far, or anywhere else online. If anyone has any suggestions….  The people who started the wonderful ‘Pentridge Voices’ have kindly advertised on my behalf, with no results yet.

I guess I’ll put an ad on social media next, in case anyone might happen to know the names. 

Meanwhile I have been having a short break in January, and will start the process of publishing the other books next month.

'Blood from Stone' cover © Allan Williams 1982.

My publication plans for 2023.

 

Photo © David A Nissen 2022.

2022 was largely a year of new writing. 2023 will be largely devoted to new publishing. (And, hopefully, losing some of the weight I've put on in being glued to my desk for the best part of a year.)

It turns out I'll be releasing three books in 2023! There's not only Breaking Into Pentridge, the memoir of my time running prison poetry workshops. There are two other associated volumes. 

Letters to a Dead Man is a poetry chapbook, a spin-off from the memoir. It starts at the end and finishes at the beginning, and a lot is left unexplained. In spite of all this, when I've tried the manuscript on people who don't know the back story, I'm pleased they have understood it well. I want it to be able to stand alone, and clearly it can. (However, it would be ideal to read the memoir first.)

Also I'm proposing to re-issue Blood from Stone, the 1982 anthology of poetry which arose from the prison workshops. It was published under my Abalone Press imprint, the first book in a 10-year program. The later Abalone Press publications included a runner up in the (national) Anne Elder Award and a book short-listed for the (state) Victorian Premier's Prize. (You bet I'm skiting! Not bad for such a very small press.)

Now that the remaining old Pentridge buildings are being repurposed by the National Trust as a historically-themed tourist precinct – and at a time when the Melbourne poetry scene of the eighties is being recorded for posterity by those who lived it – there is renewed interest in Blood from Stone, as both a literary and historic document.

I thought of reviving Abalone Press, but decided not. That had a different agenda, and was brought to a good completion. Nevertheless, for a number of reasons, I've decided I will self-publish these particular books. I love ebooks; many people still prefer paperbacks. These publications will be in both.

Publishing is very different nowadays, so I'll be doing some new learning and also looking for relevant experts such as a good cover designer.

I'll keep you posted!