Writer in Prison 2009: Gowan Calder

Gowan Calder (pictured) was Writer in Residence at HMP Glenochil in Clackmannanshire from 2008-9. Gowan has a wealth of experience in community theatre and worked with prisoners on developing their writing and storytelling skills across a number of genres, from telling their own life stories to devising drama and stand-up comedy routines. In July 2009 a group of prisoners put on a production of F**k This for a Game of Soldiers, a play they had written with Gowan's support.

Gowan's residency had a big impact on prisoners. Watch the video below to find out more:

Video of Gowan Calder's Writer in Prison Project

"You read stuff you wouldn't read outside. Something in you cries out for something more."

 "(The creative writing class) creates a better atmosphere. You can communicate about other topics than are generally addressed in prison... it helps you cope with the long journey in a place like this."

"She asked me to give it a try. I said ‘If it's boring I'll not be back.' I've not missed any, just one ‘cos of work. It's definitely not boring."

"I'm realising I maybe have got a talent for something else."

"She helped with letter-writing. I'm now putting pen to paper and writing to family. They're surprised. They write back. Now I write every week. It was only every few months. They see a difference."

Some examples of prisoners' work:

Be Yirsel'

Who ur yay?

Who day yay waant tay be?

Sombiddy yir parents waant yay tay be?

Day yay try ‘n meet other's expectations?

Yay canny be somebiddy yir no

Thurz only wan persin yay can be

Whan yay realize that

Yay'll find inner peace

Be yirsel'

In naebuddy else.

Thoughts in a Prison Cell

the window stretches out

hills, sheep, sky

deep down there is someone

who this travels to on the

highway of memories

hills, sheep, sky

deep down there's only silence

I see her face, her lips

speaking my name

but there is only silence

her face is smiling

my father looks up

but still there's only silence

before there were others

but now there's only silence

the highway heads on

through my brother

there's a silence

where once there was noise

hills, sheep, sky

Sun Rise

sizzling tentacles floating across a calm sky

mapping the globe with it's soothing balm

luscious laughter and love

Apollo most majestic

illustrious lamination a heavenly creation

flowers appear in petal pollinated praise

industrious insects liaise, life itself salutes

drying, dying, crying

manipulating with a mortal manifesto

finally plunging westward

sinking in crimson crescendo

to start Gods cycle soon anew.