Author Archives: William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

An exchange in a prison law library reveals the expertise, intellectual care, and shared learning behind three ordinary words: “Read these too.” Continue reading →

A small pad of unfamiliar words reveals an intellectual life persisting through fatigue. CQ-040 considers curiosity, education, and the conditions of learning in prison. Continue reading →

What keeps someone writing after another door closes? In “One Day in the Life of a Jailhouse Lawyer,” E opens the law journal and finds a decision in his own case. Another post-conviction motion has been denied. He has waited a year. He believes the issues have received little more than cursory attention. Continue reading →

What does waiting cost when someone else controls the clock? In “One Day in the Life of a Jailhouse Lawyer,” E notices the prison clocks. There are twelve of them, on different floors and galleries, and they disagree. The scene has a dry humor: an institution that regulates the day so closely cannot quite agree on the time. Continue reading →

Can a person grow old in plain sight and still go unseen? On his way to the law library in “One Day in the Life of a Jailhouse Lawyer,” E notices older men cleaning the prison corridors. One holds a cane in one hand and a duster in the other. The cane supports him. The duster keeps him at work. Continue reading →

What happens when the law becomes another wall? In “One Day in the Life of a Jailhouse Lawyer,” E sits in a room full of legal books. Federal Supplements in front of him. Federal Reporters behind him. He has been working on another person’s parole appeal. His own freedom remains unresolved. He turns in his chair, looks at the volumes surrounding him, and recognizes another kind of confinement. Continue reading →

After twenty-one years in prison, E wakes with one question for parole commissioners. What happens when accountability demands change but institutional power cannot explain what would count as enough? Continue reading →