corrections in ink a memoir by keri blakinger

I think when you're in an active addiction, you have to tell yourself that these things don't happen to you. Actually, I think I distinctly didn't think a lot about it.

Keri Blakinger: Not sure I thought a lot about it. What did you think imprisonment would be before you had the experience of being incarcerated? She spoke with me recently and talked about how time passes when you're doing time. Melissa: When Keri Blakingerwas 26, she was arrested with a Tupperware full of heroin and sentenced to two years in prison. Even when they're quiet, jails have a distinct sound. An inescapable score that restarts every day and plays on a seemingly endless loop. Your day is metered out by the noises of incarceration. The crackle of the intercom announcing count means it's 3:00 PM. Keri Blakinger: The buzz clunk when the guards first pop the cell block door means it's 7:00 AM. Melissa: Growing up, Keri was a rising star in competitive figure skating but an eating disorder and drug addictions sent her down a different path. Maybe because you've pissed them off or maybe because other inmates want it, so instead sound becomes your sundial. Sometimes there's a microwave that you can use to tell time, but sometimes the guards take that away. Keri Blakinger: Time melts, watches are banned. Melissa: Corrections in Ink is Blakinger's memoir and it's about the time she spent incarcerated in New York State. Keri Blakinger: I'm a reporter and the author of Corrections in Ink The echoing soundtrack of your mistakes in stereo. Every whisper ricochets off the cinder block walls and heavy steel doors into a muffled cacophony. Keri Blakinger: Even when they're quiet, jails have a distinct sound.

Today, a personal story about the criminal justice system. This week we've been highlighting great books we've read this summer and the authors behind them.

Corrections in ink a memoir by keri blakinger