Kelly,
Got your letter. I had hoped you would have a better reaction to such a nice place. I guess that it is befitting since your reading material was garbage.
That guy pulled info. out of a stolen letter and then regurgitated them as if he really knew the intimate details of my life. He took everything out of context. The guy is a weasel.
[Ed.: She is talking about Steve Miller, the author of the book about her.]
I was never bulimic. I have no idea where that "fact" came from. I have been overweight since I was 7 yrs old. I was a size 12/14 my junior year of high school because I ate salads, yogurt and walked a treadmill twice a day. The least I weighed in Rockville was 151lbs, and that was on a tuna and instant breakfast diet where I ran two miles three times a week and did aerobics and fitness class three times a week. When I was a teenager I tried throwing up to lose weight but it was a horrible experience and I never did that again. All I ever got was puke stuck in my sinuses.
My mom ought me an iCARE package of chocolate for my bday and my sister bought me a different one. I got money from my dad. This sis my third bday alone. It gets less and less exciting when I'm locked in a room all alone.
I haven't read the book but I am surprised that he supposedly knew who my first kiss was. IN fact I am pretty sure that he either made it up or was wrong because my first french kiss was with my first stepfather. I was nine. He was like 40.
I love math because there are concrete answers. There's no critic there to rip apart your form or flow or style or spelling or vocab. 2+2=4 4!=24 always and forever. I only started caring about writing when I had nothing else to do except sit in a jail cell and write letters. I only started writing literature when I became inspired by the Spirit. In my entire 17 years of education, I probably read a dozen books for school. Before I graduated high school, I probably only read 6 books on my own. I only took up reading for pleasure in the last decade.
You asked about my tattoos. I got my butterfly when I was 19 when I was with David. Butterflies are beauty, transformation, and freedom. It sure takes a whole new meaning seeing how my life turned out. The second one I got the month before I was arrested in 2000 when I was with Rick. I got a rainbow bullseye on my right butt cheek because Rick has a small obsession with smacking my butt. No matter if we were at m y parents' house, in a store or at home he didn't have impulse control.
Margaritas are the best! I don't like them frozen. They give me brainfreeze. On the rocks, light salt with a sidecar shot. Three drinks are my limit. I don't like getting drunk. I got drunk by mistake only when I got out. I quit drinking to get drunk after I was raped and mugged while drunk. I just embarrass myself otherwise., the the time I threw up all over, behind and next to the toilet at this guy I was dating's place. I puked on myself, just everywhere. I kept saying no when he'd pour me more alcohol and he kept pushing me, "Just one more." That what he got for not taking no for an answer.
I haven't talked to Tom since Dec. 19 2008. I know he didn't go to jail, at least, I can speculate. But I only have circumstantial evidence so I shouldn't make accusations without factual basis. I do still have the ring he bought me. He was a generous man, and I often declined his offer for gifts or chose modestly when I could have luxury. I never asked for more than I needed, but I've always been that way. I don't' think Tom was in love with me. I think the love we had for one another was rooted in being able to meet each other's needs. He was my security blanket and I loved him for that. I was his young trophy and pet, and he loved me for that. I worried about him, that's why I lied to the police when I was arrested and said that Tom did know know who I was, that I liked to him when we met. it was Tom who admitted that I had been honest with him from Day One.
The letters I wrote were never used against me in that I never wrong anything incriminating myself, although some of them incriminated Rick. Basically the prosecution used the fact that I wrote the letters as "proof" that I had intimate contact with Rick and Floyd. Then Rick had a letter forged in my print, which they used against me, and Floyd claimed that I confessed to him and they use the letter to "prove" we had a conversation, but he made it all up from the info. his cousin gleaned from Rick. And when Floyd testified at my trial He EXONERATED me, saying that I had confessed to him that Rick shot Drew and Trish during an argument. He said that when I bought the gun, there was no plan to kill them; it's just that the argument escalated and Rick shot them. The prosecutor asked again if I had planned the murders and Floyd said no, there was no plan to outright kill them, it just got to that point during an argument. The prosecutor stopped Floyd, handed him a sheet of paper and told him to quietly read it and then said, "Yes or no, did Sarah plan the murders?" Floyd said, "Yes."
Maybe the letters were my "undoing" but only because they were manipulated to "prove" something that was no true. In fact, if they actually READ the letters objectively, they'd see that my words contradict their theories. That's why they were kept bundled up in an evidence room, because they would show the jury that I was not the person they made me out to be.
I understood your issue about privacy. Your letters are disposed of.
That David Sedaris essay was hilarious!
Lonely Planet. Easy Tiger.
I like the boulders on the pillows. It makes them look cuddly.
"It's horrible out there; people are crying."
Isn't nature fascinating? The little frog was sunbathing with you. Hanging with KK in the pool. I bet you are not a big camper, huh? When I was little, 7 or 8, my dad sent us to camp where we lived in a little wooden cabin with insects here and there, had campfires at night, hiked and canoed in the day. There were these tiny frogs everywhere and we caught a dozen of them and put them in a suitcase and under the sheets of this really prissy girl no one liked. It wasn't my idea, but I helped catch the little guys. I was worried they'd suffocate under there.
I want you to have a clairvoyant dream about me. I need some good news in my life. Two days ago I broke down crying to my father asking "Why am I even here? What purpose does all of this injustice and suffering serve? What did I do to get THIS life?" I was fantasizing about euthanasia. I'm not that lucky. The doctors says I'm very healthy.
Good news: Out of the 50 plants I cooked to death on accident, three of them have grown 3" tall, two are 1" tall and five have sprouted a radicle. So I am lucky to have 20% of my seedlings survive. I built all of my other 5 flowers little tents to keep them shaded for the last two days because the heat index was 106. The tents are made from a mixture of paper towels, plant pots, rocks, fabric, cardboard, and empty milk cartons. I love my little guys.
In other news it looks like the documentary will be filming within the next month. I am praying Rick will go no national TV and tell the truth. He's done it once before to AMW, who didn't air it, and once to a court judge and twice to my family and friends. It takes a big person to admit that you set someone up for murder. I don't understand people. I just don't.
Hope to hear from you soon.
--Sarah
Monday, August 8, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #68
Kelly,
It's just past 10pm and I am so tired. Been up since 6:30am and been going, going, going. I got a lot done today and one of those things was to conjure up some good ideas. First, I've been pulling out sections of transcripts and documents that will soon get posted on teh web that totally make my case of injustic and prove that Sells is a charlatan, Miller is a liar, and Harmon is a criminal. Also, ti really vindicates me, which I like. While I was going through it, I thought about what other benefits can be had f rom this?
Two things popped up. One, was to get back to writing my memoir and when I did I read my own words with surprise and certain awe. When I am inspired, I write beautifully, and sometimes I can be really funny. I guess it had been so long that I forgot. Maybe if I get back to writing, you'll think more seriously about working on yours. Then, I thought about how you like to read and wondered if you had considered writing book reviews? I did not realize how many people publish book reviews and how important those are to book sales. Then I thought about how I could benefit from your literary and writing interests.
First, I'd like you to write a review on Amazon if that's where you bought the book from. You'd write a good enough one for them to publish and I really look forward to your take on the misogynistic author's portrayal of the people and events. I already know that you won't be duped by the mechanisms used to further their agenda, like framing, lying by omission, wordplay and conjecture. From what I am told, he makes anyone who supports or likes me look like idiots. I promise you, some people I know may not take home a Nobel, but I'd rather have them for friends than those weaselly chumps who have exploited us all. If he was framed for murder, his friends might help pay for a good lawyer, but when that failed you can bet they wouldn't risk themselves to help him escape.
Anyway, regardless of what you think, whether positive or negative I would like someone who I trust to be rather informed and objective to review and point out their self-advertising crap.
Then, I thought about those interviews you write up on real estate. Do you want to do one with me? I, of course, have my own agenda, to get factual information out there in an unbiased avenue, and was wondering if there was anything you wanted to promote about yourself, because if you posted the interview on your blog, I'd link it to my Wikipedia page that has gotten almos 1200 hits in the last 30 days. It's not longor complcated, so the link would stand ou tand be a good continuation of the facts already laid out. It would help me, and anyone who would visit your blog would read some of your other entries and several would become followers. Simply put, you are interesting and write good shit.
Let me know what you think. Oh and when I finally finish my memoir, I'd send you an advance copy and ask you to write a review, and I'll quote part of it on the inside cover page. So far, I have you and three other people who are authors who I'd ask to review mine...funny, I haven't even finished it yet but I am thinking ahead. But right now, I need to be actively combating this negative portrayal of me and get more positive press. I've been doing lots of art projects, so I guess some of those are starting to pop up when going Google searches.
Have you looked at the Hands website lately?
www.holdinghandsforsocialjustice.blogspot.com I forgot to ask Mom how many hands we have so far. Check it out when you get a chance. And don't forget to do a hand! Or else your outline will be all alone and puny.
I'm about to fall over. Can't wait to hear about the Hamptons.
***
I was going through more of m y memoir notes just now. A couple of people told me that there's lot of deatils about my sex life in that book. I don't know, most of it is probably true though from the excepts that I have read, Miller changes the entire context of a relationship with adjectives and adverbs. I know from some of the articles, they describe Tom as a sex-addict, but that's not true. Sex addiction is real but it is rare. True sex addicts must have it just to get thru the day, just like heroin, and they no longer enjoy sex. If a person really, really likes sex they are not a sex addict. However, Tom was an aficionado of women. Really, it was m ore like an obsession with women that stemmed from a psychological relationship with his mother.
I'll write here some of my first draft material regarding Tom and me, so that you can get a good idea about one facet of our relationship. Basically, I was his mistress and we had an agreement not quite as strict as a business contract, but it was a relationship where my freedom of choice was an illusion. I did what I had to do or else Tom might get bored and walk away or worse, turn me in. Telling him no was something I could not do often, only in severe cases and even then I had to manuever those carefully.
I believe Tom's obsession with sex had more to do with hatred of women rather than a love for them. Where he was ever-inferior to his mother, he could claim his superiority to women. By the age of 53 he could claim he had slept with hundreds. I don't doubt his estimates. Either thru business or durin ghis excursions with like-minded male chauvenist friends he'd meet women he could quickly woo into a hotel bed without having a forwarding address. Others he simply paid.
I have caught glimpes of Tom in wooing action, watching him use his wit and charm and bedroom eyes to treat women like cattle. He'd go dick-swinging into a strip club, size up the flesh he wanted and then find her price tag. I hae seen that fixed stare once he looked into his prey, salivating himself into dehydration before going in for the kill.
Comparatively I was a bargain. But beingwith me was not enough for Tom. He always wanted something more, newer, better. Sometimes pornography sated his desires, so we invested in a handful of films. I think they fed his tally of dominating women even if on-screen. While he, of course, picked Big Boobed Blondes and Super Cum Shots, I chose gay porn. Girl on girl. Guy on guy.
I stacked the DVD cases on top. "Tom, we get a fifth one free. What kind do you want?"
"Fisting."
My eyes tear away from the elephant-sized black cock and settled on Tom. "Do not, for even one second, think that's going to happen."
His middle finger stood up.
I smiled.
He put up two fingers and raised his brows.
"Exactly," I said.
He added a third.
"Maybe."
And a fourth.
My eyes rolled away from him and back to the big butts. I snapped up a plastic case and Tom asked, "Is that what your prison bitch looked like??
I pointed to another photo and said, "No, more like her."
He scoffed. "You are such a fucking dyke."
"Yeah. So that means you are lucky that I suck on your geriatric nutsack."
***
Side by side we laid on a sagging bed in another non-descript motel room, watching John Walsh's dramatic re-enactment of my so-called crime and escape. Fragmented "facts" painted a Picassoesque picture of blurry lines and illogical placements. I kept quiet except for an occassional "Oh, please!" as they showed US Marshalls doggedly chasing after me. Yet remaining one step behind me as I changed my hair color and style to elude them, slipping out of a safehouse at 3am as they banged down the front door with a search warrant, leaving a trace of my perfurm to taunt them with their inadequacy.
I used to get worked oup about the court and media's constant manipulation of "facts" and generation of "evidence", but at some point I had to stop allowing their stories to dictate my emotions. They aren't real. Just because you say that the sky is green does not make it so, and at what point do I stop defending its blueness and let the absurdity go?
Tom clicked the remote and the TV went black. "Well, what do you think?"
I exhaled sharply. "Well..." I bit m y lower lip in concentration. "I think they could have hired a much prettier girl to play me."
"Come on Ashley, be serious."
"About what, Tom? It's obvious that these peole dont' have a clue. They are chasing a ghost. It's only fegitting because the Sarah Pender they are after is a storybook version of who I am!"
He loudly shushed m e and truned his eyes towards the wall behind us. "Don't talk so loud."
After the AMW episode Tom felt that I needed to yet again cut my hair (it was already well above my shoulders) and dye it blonde.
"It's the only color they didn't morph you into." HIs hand hovered just above his bald spot. "And super short, like a dyke."
I didn't understand why he called me a dyke to insult me and then systematically asked me to become one. Gain weight. Short hair. Layered, non-revealing clothes. I wasn't sure if his goal was to make me unattractive to other men or to have me play out the role for his own egotisitical purposes. What greater conquest than to dominate a dyke?
Of course the next day I granted his wish.
I don't know if this helps you at all, but I wanted to share some of our interactions and some of my first draft writing taken from about five little blurbs I had writtten when randomly inspired. Of course, there are loving interactions between us, intellectually stimulating conversation and so on. But I wanted to know, after you read the book, what do you think about the writing style and characterization of Tom in mine versus the book and just in general what you think about my writing. Remember this is first draft stuff. I know it is not a long excerpt but I get tried of writing hours with a dull pencil.
Most of the material i have written goes into depth about what has shaped me into who I am, reveals motivations behind different characters' actions and has vivid dialogue, botgh serious and fun. I try not to be sexusally explicit but because our relationship was rooted in sex, I have to breach the subject. I could write a book called, "Sexploited," but prefer not t use sex to sell my story of injustice.
I'll close here. Write soon.
--Sarah
It's just past 10pm and I am so tired. Been up since 6:30am and been going, going, going. I got a lot done today and one of those things was to conjure up some good ideas. First, I've been pulling out sections of transcripts and documents that will soon get posted on teh web that totally make my case of injustic and prove that Sells is a charlatan, Miller is a liar, and Harmon is a criminal. Also, ti really vindicates me, which I like. While I was going through it, I thought about what other benefits can be had f rom this?
Two things popped up. One, was to get back to writing my memoir and when I did I read my own words with surprise and certain awe. When I am inspired, I write beautifully, and sometimes I can be really funny. I guess it had been so long that I forgot. Maybe if I get back to writing, you'll think more seriously about working on yours. Then, I thought about how you like to read and wondered if you had considered writing book reviews? I did not realize how many people publish book reviews and how important those are to book sales. Then I thought about how I could benefit from your literary and writing interests.
First, I'd like you to write a review on Amazon if that's where you bought the book from. You'd write a good enough one for them to publish and I really look forward to your take on the misogynistic author's portrayal of the people and events. I already know that you won't be duped by the mechanisms used to further their agenda, like framing, lying by omission, wordplay and conjecture. From what I am told, he makes anyone who supports or likes me look like idiots. I promise you, some people I know may not take home a Nobel, but I'd rather have them for friends than those weaselly chumps who have exploited us all. If he was framed for murder, his friends might help pay for a good lawyer, but when that failed you can bet they wouldn't risk themselves to help him escape.
Anyway, regardless of what you think, whether positive or negative I would like someone who I trust to be rather informed and objective to review and point out their self-advertising crap.
Then, I thought about those interviews you write up on real estate. Do you want to do one with me? I, of course, have my own agenda, to get factual information out there in an unbiased avenue, and was wondering if there was anything you wanted to promote about yourself, because if you posted the interview on your blog, I'd link it to my Wikipedia page that has gotten almos 1200 hits in the last 30 days. It's not longor complcated, so the link would stand ou tand be a good continuation of the facts already laid out. It would help me, and anyone who would visit your blog would read some of your other entries and several would become followers. Simply put, you are interesting and write good shit.
Let me know what you think. Oh and when I finally finish my memoir, I'd send you an advance copy and ask you to write a review, and I'll quote part of it on the inside cover page. So far, I have you and three other people who are authors who I'd ask to review mine...funny, I haven't even finished it yet but I am thinking ahead. But right now, I need to be actively combating this negative portrayal of me and get more positive press. I've been doing lots of art projects, so I guess some of those are starting to pop up when going Google searches.
Have you looked at the Hands website lately?
www.holdinghandsforsocialjustice.blogspot.com I forgot to ask Mom how many hands we have so far. Check it out when you get a chance. And don't forget to do a hand! Or else your outline will be all alone and puny.
I'm about to fall over. Can't wait to hear about the Hamptons.
***
I was going through more of m y memoir notes just now. A couple of people told me that there's lot of deatils about my sex life in that book. I don't know, most of it is probably true though from the excepts that I have read, Miller changes the entire context of a relationship with adjectives and adverbs. I know from some of the articles, they describe Tom as a sex-addict, but that's not true. Sex addiction is real but it is rare. True sex addicts must have it just to get thru the day, just like heroin, and they no longer enjoy sex. If a person really, really likes sex they are not a sex addict. However, Tom was an aficionado of women. Really, it was m ore like an obsession with women that stemmed from a psychological relationship with his mother.
I'll write here some of my first draft material regarding Tom and me, so that you can get a good idea about one facet of our relationship. Basically, I was his mistress and we had an agreement not quite as strict as a business contract, but it was a relationship where my freedom of choice was an illusion. I did what I had to do or else Tom might get bored and walk away or worse, turn me in. Telling him no was something I could not do often, only in severe cases and even then I had to manuever those carefully.
I believe Tom's obsession with sex had more to do with hatred of women rather than a love for them. Where he was ever-inferior to his mother, he could claim his superiority to women. By the age of 53 he could claim he had slept with hundreds. I don't doubt his estimates. Either thru business or durin ghis excursions with like-minded male chauvenist friends he'd meet women he could quickly woo into a hotel bed without having a forwarding address. Others he simply paid.
I have caught glimpes of Tom in wooing action, watching him use his wit and charm and bedroom eyes to treat women like cattle. He'd go dick-swinging into a strip club, size up the flesh he wanted and then find her price tag. I hae seen that fixed stare once he looked into his prey, salivating himself into dehydration before going in for the kill.
Comparatively I was a bargain. But beingwith me was not enough for Tom. He always wanted something more, newer, better. Sometimes pornography sated his desires, so we invested in a handful of films. I think they fed his tally of dominating women even if on-screen. While he, of course, picked Big Boobed Blondes and Super Cum Shots, I chose gay porn. Girl on girl. Guy on guy.
I stacked the DVD cases on top. "Tom, we get a fifth one free. What kind do you want?"
"Fisting."
My eyes tear away from the elephant-sized black cock and settled on Tom. "Do not, for even one second, think that's going to happen."
His middle finger stood up.
I smiled.
He put up two fingers and raised his brows.
"Exactly," I said.
He added a third.
"Maybe."
And a fourth.
My eyes rolled away from him and back to the big butts. I snapped up a plastic case and Tom asked, "Is that what your prison bitch looked like??
I pointed to another photo and said, "No, more like her."
He scoffed. "You are such a fucking dyke."
"Yeah. So that means you are lucky that I suck on your geriatric nutsack."
***
Side by side we laid on a sagging bed in another non-descript motel room, watching John Walsh's dramatic re-enactment of my so-called crime and escape. Fragmented "facts" painted a Picassoesque picture of blurry lines and illogical placements. I kept quiet except for an occassional "Oh, please!" as they showed US Marshalls doggedly chasing after me. Yet remaining one step behind me as I changed my hair color and style to elude them, slipping out of a safehouse at 3am as they banged down the front door with a search warrant, leaving a trace of my perfurm to taunt them with their inadequacy.
I used to get worked oup about the court and media's constant manipulation of "facts" and generation of "evidence", but at some point I had to stop allowing their stories to dictate my emotions. They aren't real. Just because you say that the sky is green does not make it so, and at what point do I stop defending its blueness and let the absurdity go?
Tom clicked the remote and the TV went black. "Well, what do you think?"
I exhaled sharply. "Well..." I bit m y lower lip in concentration. "I think they could have hired a much prettier girl to play me."
"Come on Ashley, be serious."
"About what, Tom? It's obvious that these peole dont' have a clue. They are chasing a ghost. It's only fegitting because the Sarah Pender they are after is a storybook version of who I am!"
He loudly shushed m e and truned his eyes towards the wall behind us. "Don't talk so loud."
After the AMW episode Tom felt that I needed to yet again cut my hair (it was already well above my shoulders) and dye it blonde.
"It's the only color they didn't morph you into." HIs hand hovered just above his bald spot. "And super short, like a dyke."
I didn't understand why he called me a dyke to insult me and then systematically asked me to become one. Gain weight. Short hair. Layered, non-revealing clothes. I wasn't sure if his goal was to make me unattractive to other men or to have me play out the role for his own egotisitical purposes. What greater conquest than to dominate a dyke?
Of course the next day I granted his wish.
I don't know if this helps you at all, but I wanted to share some of our interactions and some of my first draft writing taken from about five little blurbs I had writtten when randomly inspired. Of course, there are loving interactions between us, intellectually stimulating conversation and so on. But I wanted to know, after you read the book, what do you think about the writing style and characterization of Tom in mine versus the book and just in general what you think about my writing. Remember this is first draft stuff. I know it is not a long excerpt but I get tried of writing hours with a dull pencil.
Most of the material i have written goes into depth about what has shaped me into who I am, reveals motivations behind different characters' actions and has vivid dialogue, botgh serious and fun. I try not to be sexusally explicit but because our relationship was rooted in sex, I have to breach the subject. I could write a book called, "Sexploited," but prefer not t use sex to sell my story of injustice.
I'll close here. Write soon.
--Sarah
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #67
Dear Kelly,
Just got your letter and I've got to say that I dig the shiny paper. Never seen anything like it in the 10+ years I've been writing ridiculous amounts of letters.
I hope Amir does return safely, whenever that may be and that you have passed your withdrawal symptons, met some fun fling in the Hamptons, and return home with a renewed energy and inspiration. Since you have a ton of work ahead with your clients, you will need it.
The book I have not read, but enough of the people who are close to me and who were either involved or who have known me forever all are pissed beyond pissitivity about all of the misinformation put in it. There are errors, unchecked facts half truths and outright bullshit. You have to remember that this book was written by a Republican journalist, a crooked police officer, and a dirty prosecutor. Of course I'm the bad guy, all my friends or lovers were idiots, and the law enforcement and prosecutors are heroes.
Hey they wrote the story so they have the righ tto be the heroes of the day. However, they don't have the right to lie about me and other people. You are a smart woman, Kelly, so you understand syntax. So you know that by changing the placement of a single word in a sentence you can change its whole meaning. Even dolphins understand syntax.
Bring the surfer to the board. (Dolphin nudges person towards board.)
Bring the board to the surfer. (Dolphin pushes board over to person.)
Sometimes all you need to do is place a sentence within a different context to change the meaning, which is wha ta lot of media do---it's called "framing". And then, sometimes just a change in tone, emphasis, or pauses, can change meaning.
I want you to come here. (Points to floor in front of her.)
I want you to come here. (Points to her tongue.)
Big difference, huh?
Well, all I've heard so far is stuff like this. Some of it is little stuff like people's eye color or the color of a car. Some of it is big stuff, like leaving out important information or attributing one sentence to the wrong speaker which accuses people of misdeeds. Other times, it is saying something that is a conjecture, or that could be true and presents it as if it did happen, when it didn't.
Do you know what a factoid is?
Factoid: noun. unverified or inaccurate information that is presented in the press as factual, often as part of a publicity effort and that is then accepted as true because of constant repetition.
AND
faction: noun - a literary work or film that is a mix of fact and fiction.
That's exactly what this book is--- faction.
You know how peole tell you not to believe everything you read? There's really good reason for that. You can bet someone will be suing for either libel or defamation. I'll give specific examples once I have read it.
To your questions:
Yes, I am 5'8". I never really feel like I am especially tall because I am used to looking most men in the eye. It doesn't occur to me that i'm tall. I think most women are just short.
You asked where Steve (the author) gets his references. Well, he doesn't reveal his sources and people who don't reveal their sources are usually protecting someone whom has bent the rules to reveal these "facts".
The assertion that I enlisted Rick to help kill Drew and Trish is an allegation made up by the prosecution because it needed a story to frame the facts so that I looked guilty. Then, since they have noevidence that this occurred (at the time, the only evidence they had was that Rick admitted to arguing with Drew and that Drew threatened him and then there was a struggle over the gun.) They had to "find" some. The only person who testified to this scenario was Floyd, except the part that Steve leaves out is where Floyd gets up on teh stand and actually EXONERATES me. Floyd says that I do not plan to kill them, that Rick did it when an argument escalated between him and Drew and that when I bought the gun, I had never intended for things to go so far. The prosecutor, Larry Sells, cuts Floyd off, takes a piece of paper, highlights a section, hands it to Floyd on the stand, tells him to read it quietly to himself and then asks him, "Just say yes or no. Did Sarah plan the murders?" This is all in the transcripts. Floyd says "Yes."
END OF STORY.
That's when Larry Sells leads Floyd into the story of how I'm a manipulator. However, no one can find any examples of this.
Oh. I take that back.
After I told Rick that I did not want to be with him anymore, that 's when he sought the services of a fellow detainee, Steven Logan, to forge a letter in my print saying that I killed them in a drug-fueled rage. When Rick gave this letter to the prosecutor, he also gave a deposition which basically put me in his place and he played my role. Where he supposedly comes back to the house and find that I've killed them. During this deposition, Sells is desperate to get any piece of evidence that i am a manipulator. He asks Rick if I am--and he says oh yes. She's controlling and manipulative. when he asks for examples, he can only say that I'm a control nut but would completely avoid answeringthe question, when then in alll his other answers gives examples of how kind I am and how I stayed clear-headed and was real laid back, working and busy all the time, never argued, blah, blah, blah. The prosecutor keeps asking. He asks Rick if I'd ever made commens like that I wished Drew was dead or anything and Rick says no. Sells ask again, "You mean Sarah never complained or made any negative comments about them?" And here's the kicker, Kelly, the absolute worst thing that Rick said about me in his statement where he has set me up and is accusing me of the murders is that i did not want him selling drugs anymore. That i worked enough so he could quit and that we dind't need this shit and that I did not want him leaving out of town for a few weeks to do God knows what. That's my evil dark side, wanting Rick to stop selling drugs. Again at the end of the statement, Sells asks him: Sarah was absolutely a manipulative person when it came to you and if you weren't doing what Drew told you you were doing what Sarah told you?
Rick says, "Really, I mean, yeah, but I would never do it to the full extent."
Sells: "Right, and she wanted you to get a real job."
Rick: "Yeah, she wanted me to get a job."
Sells "And she was supportive in what you were doing, essentially."
Rick: Yeah
Sells: Tha'ts all I have.
End of deposition.
How awful I must be to want my boyfriend to quit dealing drugs and get a real job. Call me The Wicked Witch of the South.
In fact, other than my evil employment wishes, no on can find a shred of evidence that this manipulating, controlling, evil person.Sarah even exists. That's the whole point---It's all a story. It's made up.
Next question: I did not seduce a wealthy guy into giving me a cushy lifestyle. I met Tom through an acquaintance when she asked me to be the third in a threesome. I agreed, but refused to have sex with the guy. When we were all done, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the afternoon. I told him the truth--that my name is Sarah Pender, I just escaped from prison where i had been for 8 years for being wrongfully convicted of murder. That' Rick had come forward and told the truth, that he had killed them and I had nothing to do with it, bu tthe system failed me, so I escaped because I deserved justice. Now plans got screwed up and I don't have a clue what to do or where to go next. He said, well, I have to go home to my wife, so you can stay here tonight. He brought me back dinner and after a couple of days we made a deal. I didn't seduce him. I don't even know that I could play that role enough to be serious. I'm a nerd. I just be myself and some people adore the shit out of me. I was told that I am easy to love. We did some nice things and he drove a new Cadillac, but you live a more "cushy" life than I ever did.
Tom paid for my expenses for the first six weeks, but I earned my keep. I worked for room and board in Cinci doing office work and then worked as a blueprint estimator in Chicago and paid my own bills. Tom still paid for us to go to dinner and would buy my groceries and stuff, but so do a million other lovers for their mistresses. Again, you can believe I earned every bit of it either through doing his accounting or by other means of trade.
Next: I do have a sister. Her name is Jeni, she lives in FL and she is Princess of the Universe. I love her eventhough we are nothing alike. I once had a stepsister, Meagan. She was difficult, but I have no ill will towards her.
Next: The pic at my 2008 graduation was for my BS in Business Administration and my AS I had earned in 2006 for Computer Aided Drafting. Thanks for the compliment. I normally don't look bad as I have on TV. I am now back to my normal self, much like that graduation picture. It feels good to look like me again.
Next: Ididn't read Floyd's message. (Since I don't yet have the book,) but I'm sure it's bizarre. Floyd is kind of strange. I heard that he's back in prison for rape. Not sure if that's true or not.
Next: When Miller came here, he was weird. Like he tried to force a bond with me and I was just trying to figure out his motive and focus. I quickly learned that he was a liar and in cahoots with the police an didn't cooperate with him. He was a weasel. And he looks hungry. Too thin. A hungry weasel.
I find it funny that you said that you had written the book. I have tried to convince you to write a book about yourself for the longest time because 1) you are a good writer and 2) you already wite about yourself and have for years, so why not benefit from it?
You say that you dont' know a lot about me but you do. The stuff you don't know is either because you haven't asked or I think it would nto be a topic that would interest you, or because your life is more exciting and dramatic. This drama they wrote about in the book is sensationalism. The real story, I think, is way more intriguing. Just be prepared: Miller is obsessed with the details of my sex life, though I don't know if he told them correctly.The point is that he turned this into a sex scandal tabloid story. It's garbage. Why are people interested in my sex life? Jesus!
Next: Would like to check out the Glamour contest. I sent $10 to Creative Nonfiction Magazine but they never sent me the issue. Do you have their website info or contact info? I sent my father the issue of Tenacious that published my story about my mom. He said that he cried and that I should write more.
So, I'm enclosing my LIVE entry and one related Die! I'll write one for my HANDS project either this letter or next. FUN.
I'm pooped. Hope all is well and you are happy and energized. Life is good, even when it sucks. It will always change.
Take care,
Sarah
Just got your letter and I've got to say that I dig the shiny paper. Never seen anything like it in the 10+ years I've been writing ridiculous amounts of letters.
I hope Amir does return safely, whenever that may be and that you have passed your withdrawal symptons, met some fun fling in the Hamptons, and return home with a renewed energy and inspiration. Since you have a ton of work ahead with your clients, you will need it.
The book I have not read, but enough of the people who are close to me and who were either involved or who have known me forever all are pissed beyond pissitivity about all of the misinformation put in it. There are errors, unchecked facts half truths and outright bullshit. You have to remember that this book was written by a Republican journalist, a crooked police officer, and a dirty prosecutor. Of course I'm the bad guy, all my friends or lovers were idiots, and the law enforcement and prosecutors are heroes.
Hey they wrote the story so they have the righ tto be the heroes of the day. However, they don't have the right to lie about me and other people. You are a smart woman, Kelly, so you understand syntax. So you know that by changing the placement of a single word in a sentence you can change its whole meaning. Even dolphins understand syntax.
Bring the surfer to the board. (Dolphin nudges person towards board.)
Bring the board to the surfer. (Dolphin pushes board over to person.)
Sometimes all you need to do is place a sentence within a different context to change the meaning, which is wha ta lot of media do---it's called "framing". And then, sometimes just a change in tone, emphasis, or pauses, can change meaning.
I want you to come here. (Points to floor in front of her.)
I want you to come here. (Points to her tongue.)
Big difference, huh?
Well, all I've heard so far is stuff like this. Some of it is little stuff like people's eye color or the color of a car. Some of it is big stuff, like leaving out important information or attributing one sentence to the wrong speaker which accuses people of misdeeds. Other times, it is saying something that is a conjecture, or that could be true and presents it as if it did happen, when it didn't.
Do you know what a factoid is?
Factoid: noun. unverified or inaccurate information that is presented in the press as factual, often as part of a publicity effort and that is then accepted as true because of constant repetition.
AND
faction: noun - a literary work or film that is a mix of fact and fiction.
That's exactly what this book is--- faction.
You know how peole tell you not to believe everything you read? There's really good reason for that. You can bet someone will be suing for either libel or defamation. I'll give specific examples once I have read it.
To your questions:
Yes, I am 5'8". I never really feel like I am especially tall because I am used to looking most men in the eye. It doesn't occur to me that i'm tall. I think most women are just short.
You asked where Steve (the author) gets his references. Well, he doesn't reveal his sources and people who don't reveal their sources are usually protecting someone whom has bent the rules to reveal these "facts".
The assertion that I enlisted Rick to help kill Drew and Trish is an allegation made up by the prosecution because it needed a story to frame the facts so that I looked guilty. Then, since they have noevidence that this occurred (at the time, the only evidence they had was that Rick admitted to arguing with Drew and that Drew threatened him and then there was a struggle over the gun.) They had to "find" some. The only person who testified to this scenario was Floyd, except the part that Steve leaves out is where Floyd gets up on teh stand and actually EXONERATES me. Floyd says that I do not plan to kill them, that Rick did it when an argument escalated between him and Drew and that when I bought the gun, I had never intended for things to go so far. The prosecutor, Larry Sells, cuts Floyd off, takes a piece of paper, highlights a section, hands it to Floyd on the stand, tells him to read it quietly to himself and then asks him, "Just say yes or no. Did Sarah plan the murders?" This is all in the transcripts. Floyd says "Yes."
END OF STORY.
That's when Larry Sells leads Floyd into the story of how I'm a manipulator. However, no one can find any examples of this.
Oh. I take that back.
After I told Rick that I did not want to be with him anymore, that 's when he sought the services of a fellow detainee, Steven Logan, to forge a letter in my print saying that I killed them in a drug-fueled rage. When Rick gave this letter to the prosecutor, he also gave a deposition which basically put me in his place and he played my role. Where he supposedly comes back to the house and find that I've killed them. During this deposition, Sells is desperate to get any piece of evidence that i am a manipulator. He asks Rick if I am--and he says oh yes. She's controlling and manipulative. when he asks for examples, he can only say that I'm a control nut but would completely avoid answeringthe question, when then in alll his other answers gives examples of how kind I am and how I stayed clear-headed and was real laid back, working and busy all the time, never argued, blah, blah, blah. The prosecutor keeps asking. He asks Rick if I'd ever made commens like that I wished Drew was dead or anything and Rick says no. Sells ask again, "You mean Sarah never complained or made any negative comments about them?" And here's the kicker, Kelly, the absolute worst thing that Rick said about me in his statement where he has set me up and is accusing me of the murders is that i did not want him selling drugs anymore. That i worked enough so he could quit and that we dind't need this shit and that I did not want him leaving out of town for a few weeks to do God knows what. That's my evil dark side, wanting Rick to stop selling drugs. Again at the end of the statement, Sells asks him: Sarah was absolutely a manipulative person when it came to you and if you weren't doing what Drew told you you were doing what Sarah told you?
Rick says, "Really, I mean, yeah, but I would never do it to the full extent."
Sells: "Right, and she wanted you to get a real job."
Rick: "Yeah, she wanted me to get a job."
Sells "And she was supportive in what you were doing, essentially."
Rick: Yeah
Sells: Tha'ts all I have.
End of deposition.
How awful I must be to want my boyfriend to quit dealing drugs and get a real job. Call me The Wicked Witch of the South.
In fact, other than my evil employment wishes, no on can find a shred of evidence that this manipulating, controlling, evil person.Sarah even exists. That's the whole point---It's all a story. It's made up.
Next question: I did not seduce a wealthy guy into giving me a cushy lifestyle. I met Tom through an acquaintance when she asked me to be the third in a threesome. I agreed, but refused to have sex with the guy. When we were all done, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the afternoon. I told him the truth--that my name is Sarah Pender, I just escaped from prison where i had been for 8 years for being wrongfully convicted of murder. That' Rick had come forward and told the truth, that he had killed them and I had nothing to do with it, bu tthe system failed me, so I escaped because I deserved justice. Now plans got screwed up and I don't have a clue what to do or where to go next. He said, well, I have to go home to my wife, so you can stay here tonight. He brought me back dinner and after a couple of days we made a deal. I didn't seduce him. I don't even know that I could play that role enough to be serious. I'm a nerd. I just be myself and some people adore the shit out of me. I was told that I am easy to love. We did some nice things and he drove a new Cadillac, but you live a more "cushy" life than I ever did.
Tom paid for my expenses for the first six weeks, but I earned my keep. I worked for room and board in Cinci doing office work and then worked as a blueprint estimator in Chicago and paid my own bills. Tom still paid for us to go to dinner and would buy my groceries and stuff, but so do a million other lovers for their mistresses. Again, you can believe I earned every bit of it either through doing his accounting or by other means of trade.
Next: I do have a sister. Her name is Jeni, she lives in FL and she is Princess of the Universe. I love her eventhough we are nothing alike. I once had a stepsister, Meagan. She was difficult, but I have no ill will towards her.
Next: The pic at my 2008 graduation was for my BS in Business Administration and my AS I had earned in 2006 for Computer Aided Drafting. Thanks for the compliment. I normally don't look bad as I have on TV. I am now back to my normal self, much like that graduation picture. It feels good to look like me again.
Next: Ididn't read Floyd's message. (Since I don't yet have the book,) but I'm sure it's bizarre. Floyd is kind of strange. I heard that he's back in prison for rape. Not sure if that's true or not.
Next: When Miller came here, he was weird. Like he tried to force a bond with me and I was just trying to figure out his motive and focus. I quickly learned that he was a liar and in cahoots with the police an didn't cooperate with him. He was a weasel. And he looks hungry. Too thin. A hungry weasel.
I find it funny that you said that you had written the book. I have tried to convince you to write a book about yourself for the longest time because 1) you are a good writer and 2) you already wite about yourself and have for years, so why not benefit from it?
You say that you dont' know a lot about me but you do. The stuff you don't know is either because you haven't asked or I think it would nto be a topic that would interest you, or because your life is more exciting and dramatic. This drama they wrote about in the book is sensationalism. The real story, I think, is way more intriguing. Just be prepared: Miller is obsessed with the details of my sex life, though I don't know if he told them correctly.The point is that he turned this into a sex scandal tabloid story. It's garbage. Why are people interested in my sex life? Jesus!
Next: Would like to check out the Glamour contest. I sent $10 to Creative Nonfiction Magazine but they never sent me the issue. Do you have their website info or contact info? I sent my father the issue of Tenacious that published my story about my mom. He said that he cried and that I should write more.
So, I'm enclosing my LIVE entry and one related Die! I'll write one for my HANDS project either this letter or next. FUN.
I'm pooped. Hope all is well and you are happy and energized. Life is good, even when it sucks. It will always change.
Take care,
Sarah
Pender submits another blog entry:
13th July 2011
LIVE [By Guestblogger: Sarah, IN]
[Note: Sarah is an inmate in Indianapolis Women’s Prison currently serving a life sentence for murder. I have been writing to her for over two years. After having escaped from prison eight years into her sentence, she was on the lam for nearly a year. She was profiled on America’s Most Wanted and caught. Since then she has been in solitary confinement for the last two and a half years. A book about Sarah’s life and escape came out this month called Girl, Wanted: The Chase for Sarah Pender.]
Pender’s Peace Garden
Living in solitary confinement gives mea renewed sense of appreciation for life. Two and a half years of good behavior has earned me the privilege of gardening the rocks. Fives days each week, I am handcuffed through a hole in the door, led from my cell to a plastic patio chair in which I must kneel to allow an officer to lock shackles around my ankles. Between the steel leg clamps hangs a heavy chain that grants me freedom in sixteen inch increments.
My garden is a sea of peagravel that pools around a concrete pad onto which are bolted several large chain-link fence cages that resemble dog runs. In fair weather we hostages are released from our cells into these cages, one woman per cage, for our one hour of “recreation” where we can sit and soak up sunshine, or “exercise”, which creepily resembles restless circus tigers or feral dogs pacing. The cages are flanked on three sides by brick walls with a razor wire topped fence at the end—a place so desolate, abandoned houses have more pizazz.
A forest of weeds grows up from the peddles, and I shuffle around caring for them as if they are my surrogate children, sculpting clover into miniature bushes, adopting tiny flowering outcasts, and deimating the intruding crabgrass. I became attached to a sticker plant that grew over 18 inches before a rainstorm tilted him like a corner bar drunk. As I tended to him, the girls teased me that I was raising weeds.
I chided them. “He is a plant. Stop calling him a weed. You are hurting his feelings.” I then assured all of my little guys that I would protect them from other bullies, validated their right to exist and be cared for, and showered them with watery love.
A bucket is the only garden tool I am permitted besides plastic bags and gloves for picking out unwanted intruders, so when the Superintendent approved for Minister Bruce to bring in a few potted plants, there was a discourse about how I would garden real plants without tools. I told them I didn’t need any tools.
“How will you garden without tools?”
“I will figure it out,” I confidently replied.
I sketched out a plan to place my five flowers (rudbeckia, shasta daisy, marigold, impatient and begonia) and then started digging. I snapped two cheap wooden pencils before I discovered an indestructible weapon for micro earth moving: a used Colgate toothbrush. An old coffee-stained tumbler became my itty-bitty backhoe, and together we made a hole appear. It is a slow process, but it is not like I’m pressed for time.
To even get down to the dirt requires a recipe of equal parts creativity, ingenuity, and brute force. First, I bulldozed the peagravel with a dustpan borrowed from the janitor’s closet. Underneath is a sheet of black fabric that, ironically is supposed to suppress weed growth, but only serves to annoy me. I don’t know, maybe it keeps the dirt warm and cozy on cold nights.
The fabric lays in long swaths about 20 ft X 3 ft. Moving sixty square feet of gravel in order to dig an eight inch square hold is absurd even by my standards. It crosses the threshold between hard work and masochism. Without the benefit of scissors and having the upper body strength of a ten year old, I had to rely on some old school postage stamp technology: perforation. (Anyone under 30 probably has no idea that stamps came any other was besides in sheets of stickers. After all, this is the generation of peel-n-stick envelopes.) Again, with my trusty toothbrush I wildly stab the earth like Anthony Perkins, slightly disturbing my caged associates.
“Do not be afraid! This is only a test,” I assure them as I finish a row of surprisingly neat dotted lines. After wrestling the winter carpet like an MMA fighter, I emerge victorious, holding up my tattered square trophy with dirt-covered hands.
A week later, the flowers were in the ground and still alive.
The prison donated dirt, trays and some seeds, so I built tiny greenhouses out of old shampoo bottles and clear trash bags, poking vents in them with Mr. Toothbrush. Once they grow a good root system, I ask the officer to save the breakfast milk cartons, and with the help of my handy-dandy toothbrush, I transform them into miniature transplanting pots.
Only of of three seed types has germinated, so I am banking on these to grow up big and strong to create Pender’s Peace Garden, a tropical oasis of serenity. However, even if my incubators fail to hatch new babies, just the few existing plants already positively impact the environment. In a world of concrete and steel, rock and brick, emerges delicate life in tiny bursts of orange, green, yellow, pink and white.
A young woman, 21, here for armed robbery and a littany of priors, thanked me for planting the daisies between the cell window and cage. “They make this place seem more human.” Her words brought me into stark reality over treatment: we are locked in a bathroom 23 hours a day, put inside a cage to shower, instead of muzzles we wear handcuffs, and when out to play are kept on a very short leash.
And she was right; by validating the plants’ inherent value, they, in turn, validate our humanity.
LIVE [By Guestblogger: Sarah, IN]
[Note: Sarah is an inmate in Indianapolis Women’s Prison currently serving a life sentence for murder. I have been writing to her for over two years. After having escaped from prison eight years into her sentence, she was on the lam for nearly a year. She was profiled on America’s Most Wanted and caught. Since then she has been in solitary confinement for the last two and a half years. A book about Sarah’s life and escape came out this month called Girl, Wanted: The Chase for Sarah Pender.]
Pender’s Peace Garden
Living in solitary confinement gives mea renewed sense of appreciation for life. Two and a half years of good behavior has earned me the privilege of gardening the rocks. Fives days each week, I am handcuffed through a hole in the door, led from my cell to a plastic patio chair in which I must kneel to allow an officer to lock shackles around my ankles. Between the steel leg clamps hangs a heavy chain that grants me freedom in sixteen inch increments.
My garden is a sea of peagravel that pools around a concrete pad onto which are bolted several large chain-link fence cages that resemble dog runs. In fair weather we hostages are released from our cells into these cages, one woman per cage, for our one hour of “recreation” where we can sit and soak up sunshine, or “exercise”, which creepily resembles restless circus tigers or feral dogs pacing. The cages are flanked on three sides by brick walls with a razor wire topped fence at the end—a place so desolate, abandoned houses have more pizazz.
A forest of weeds grows up from the peddles, and I shuffle around caring for them as if they are my surrogate children, sculpting clover into miniature bushes, adopting tiny flowering outcasts, and deimating the intruding crabgrass. I became attached to a sticker plant that grew over 18 inches before a rainstorm tilted him like a corner bar drunk. As I tended to him, the girls teased me that I was raising weeds.
I chided them. “He is a plant. Stop calling him a weed. You are hurting his feelings.” I then assured all of my little guys that I would protect them from other bullies, validated their right to exist and be cared for, and showered them with watery love.
A bucket is the only garden tool I am permitted besides plastic bags and gloves for picking out unwanted intruders, so when the Superintendent approved for Minister Bruce to bring in a few potted plants, there was a discourse about how I would garden real plants without tools. I told them I didn’t need any tools.
“How will you garden without tools?”
“I will figure it out,” I confidently replied.
I sketched out a plan to place my five flowers (rudbeckia, shasta daisy, marigold, impatient and begonia) and then started digging. I snapped two cheap wooden pencils before I discovered an indestructible weapon for micro earth moving: a used Colgate toothbrush. An old coffee-stained tumbler became my itty-bitty backhoe, and together we made a hole appear. It is a slow process, but it is not like I’m pressed for time.
To even get down to the dirt requires a recipe of equal parts creativity, ingenuity, and brute force. First, I bulldozed the peagravel with a dustpan borrowed from the janitor’s closet. Underneath is a sheet of black fabric that, ironically is supposed to suppress weed growth, but only serves to annoy me. I don’t know, maybe it keeps the dirt warm and cozy on cold nights.
The fabric lays in long swaths about 20 ft X 3 ft. Moving sixty square feet of gravel in order to dig an eight inch square hold is absurd even by my standards. It crosses the threshold between hard work and masochism. Without the benefit of scissors and having the upper body strength of a ten year old, I had to rely on some old school postage stamp technology: perforation. (Anyone under 30 probably has no idea that stamps came any other was besides in sheets of stickers. After all, this is the generation of peel-n-stick envelopes.) Again, with my trusty toothbrush I wildly stab the earth like Anthony Perkins, slightly disturbing my caged associates.
“Do not be afraid! This is only a test,” I assure them as I finish a row of surprisingly neat dotted lines. After wrestling the winter carpet like an MMA fighter, I emerge victorious, holding up my tattered square trophy with dirt-covered hands.
A week later, the flowers were in the ground and still alive.
The prison donated dirt, trays and some seeds, so I built tiny greenhouses out of old shampoo bottles and clear trash bags, poking vents in them with Mr. Toothbrush. Once they grow a good root system, I ask the officer to save the breakfast milk cartons, and with the help of my handy-dandy toothbrush, I transform them into miniature transplanting pots.
Only of of three seed types has germinated, so I am banking on these to grow up big and strong to create Pender’s Peace Garden, a tropical oasis of serenity. However, even if my incubators fail to hatch new babies, just the few existing plants already positively impact the environment. In a world of concrete and steel, rock and brick, emerges delicate life in tiny bursts of orange, green, yellow, pink and white.
A young woman, 21, here for armed robbery and a littany of priors, thanked me for planting the daisies between the cell window and cage. “They make this place seem more human.” Her words brought me into stark reality over treatment: we are locked in a bathroom 23 hours a day, put inside a cage to shower, instead of muzzles we wear handcuffs, and when out to play are kept on a very short leash.
And she was right; by validating the plants’ inherent value, they, in turn, validate our humanity.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Sarah Pender Submits GuestBlogger Entry
I write a blog called You Might As Well... in which I chronicle a reason to LIVE and a reason to Die! each day. Sarah Pender submitted a guestblogger entry with her reason to Die!
HERE IT IS
HERE IT IS
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #66
Dear Kelly:
I was listening to a show called Marketplace Money on NPR this morning and thought of you. There was a piece done by a guy named Steve Henn. Part of it was about how sophisticated technology that once was only availalbe to military and scientists now are esily accessible to average consumers. One product is a software program tha tallow sa user to hack into just about anything with just a click of the start button. One example he used was if you went to a wifi cafe, you get on this network and then start the program which listens for other users and then pops up their FaceBook and email which you can automatically log on as them. Sound familiar? I figured that since Teresahgad these sneaky hacking behaviors that you shoudl bve able to as well. There's a program called Flexispy that you can secretly download into other people's phones or computers in order to spy on them from yours. They also talked about how they sell these two foot wide drones tha tyou can fly around the city and you load photos of people you want to look for---it uses face recognition sofatward to track whomever you are searching for. It used to cost thousands but now it is only $1200.
I got your letter about that book (GARBAGE) and your sudden and unexpected trip to Mexico. (SWEET!) With Amir. you get to do these things out of a fairy tale. I wonder if you realize how different your life is from Midwest suburbanites or urban Detroit families? NYC has such a variety of people and cultures and economic scales that it boggles my mind. So now that Amir has returned to Iran, are you missing him and being worried sick about his safety? Do you think his absence and being in danger will endear you even more to him? Kind of like how when you choose to leave someone its ok because you feel like you can always choose to go back, but when they leave you or when you see that they could leave permanently tha tyou suddenly value them more and are willing to put up with more than you would before. I hope he returns safely.
While NY made gay marriage legal, Indiana was voting to explicitly make it illegal. People in Indiana are so afraid of change and judge any one that is different from them as evil or bad--unless it is the latest video game system or McDonald's Value Meal.
Boulders on pillows--juxtaposition.
What happened at the John deposition?
By the way--that villa and private pool was AMAZINGLY beautiful. And I am with you--horses are too pretty to eat--unless I am stranded in the country and there's nothing else to eat. I could eat rabbit. Even though they are cute--the horse is INTELLIGENT and to eat something as smart as a small child is just weird to me.
I love that that you went skinnydipping and tanned nude. Mymother used to live out in the middle of AZ's desert where her nearest neighbor was a half mile away, and tanned nude in the bed of her truck. There was a nearby rocky formation. A guy who justed to job up on this cliff each morning started bringing his binoculars. Mom just flipped him off.
I haven't read the book yet but my mom and several others have and they say it is so twisted and manipulated that it is more like fiction than the truth. The review on Amazon that blast them out about how the author tells only half the story and twists up scenarios and so on is totally correct. The Sarah Pender vs. USA is a collection of my appeals and court filings.
The abstract is not correct on that, either. I escaped in Aug 2008, not Oct. And my petition for habeas wasn't denied, it was withdrawn because I had escaped. See? Even simple details like that people can't get right.
But I find it interesting how the author demonizes me for my sex life when anyonem else can do the same things and be considered normal. What's so scandalous about skinny dipping with a woman at a party? I'm queer. Whoopee! Or having a threesome? Men drool over the idea, yet because I'm a woman, it somehow makes me a whore. This is conservative Republican journalism for you.
Anyway, the author words things to make them seem true but they are concoctions of his own mind made to juice of the story. He leaves out the exonerating evidence because it doesn't fit into his narrative. He avoids uncomfortable issues and exaggerates what's left. And I know this just from what I've read in blurbs and conversation wtih my mother. Just garbage.
One thing it has done---it is raising questions and awareness about just how I got convicted. My mother went to confront the author and the prosecutor was there at the book signing. He admitted to mom that there was always doubt in my case that I did not get the defense I deserved and that forensic analysts are biased, both for and against the State. He apologized to my mother.
An attorney agreed to take my case pro bono. And we are looking into possibly participating in a documentary about my case for the Oxygen Network. A local investigative reporter also wants to look deeper into my case. So there is good news.
NPR just did a series on a bunch of convictions that were overturned in Canada for neglect or murder of children. Many women were convicted of murder because of forensic pathologist who manipulated reorters to make sure the parent was convicted when it was really an accident.
And recently, here in Indy, a bunch of convictions for driving under the influence of cocaine were overturned because they found that the processes were done wrong at the forensic labs, resulting in a false positive.
It was the forensic analyst that manipulated her testimony and research to match 100% to a letter that I never wrote, and convicted me of murders I never committed.
So, life is interesting. I wonder what will happen next?
Take care,
Sarah
I was listening to a show called Marketplace Money on NPR this morning and thought of you. There was a piece done by a guy named Steve Henn. Part of it was about how sophisticated technology that once was only availalbe to military and scientists now are esily accessible to average consumers. One product is a software program tha tallow sa user to hack into just about anything with just a click of the start button. One example he used was if you went to a wifi cafe, you get on this network and then start the program which listens for other users and then pops up their FaceBook and email which you can automatically log on as them. Sound familiar? I figured that since Teresahgad these sneaky hacking behaviors that you shoudl bve able to as well. There's a program called Flexispy that you can secretly download into other people's phones or computers in order to spy on them from yours. They also talked about how they sell these two foot wide drones tha tyou can fly around the city and you load photos of people you want to look for---it uses face recognition sofatward to track whomever you are searching for. It used to cost thousands but now it is only $1200.
I got your letter about that book (GARBAGE) and your sudden and unexpected trip to Mexico. (SWEET!) With Amir. you get to do these things out of a fairy tale. I wonder if you realize how different your life is from Midwest suburbanites or urban Detroit families? NYC has such a variety of people and cultures and economic scales that it boggles my mind. So now that Amir has returned to Iran, are you missing him and being worried sick about his safety? Do you think his absence and being in danger will endear you even more to him? Kind of like how when you choose to leave someone its ok because you feel like you can always choose to go back, but when they leave you or when you see that they could leave permanently tha tyou suddenly value them more and are willing to put up with more than you would before. I hope he returns safely.
While NY made gay marriage legal, Indiana was voting to explicitly make it illegal. People in Indiana are so afraid of change and judge any one that is different from them as evil or bad--unless it is the latest video game system or McDonald's Value Meal.
Boulders on pillows--juxtaposition.
What happened at the John deposition?
By the way--that villa and private pool was AMAZINGLY beautiful. And I am with you--horses are too pretty to eat--unless I am stranded in the country and there's nothing else to eat. I could eat rabbit. Even though they are cute--the horse is INTELLIGENT and to eat something as smart as a small child is just weird to me.
I love that that you went skinnydipping and tanned nude. Mymother used to live out in the middle of AZ's desert where her nearest neighbor was a half mile away, and tanned nude in the bed of her truck. There was a nearby rocky formation. A guy who justed to job up on this cliff each morning started bringing his binoculars. Mom just flipped him off.
I haven't read the book yet but my mom and several others have and they say it is so twisted and manipulated that it is more like fiction than the truth. The review on Amazon that blast them out about how the author tells only half the story and twists up scenarios and so on is totally correct. The Sarah Pender vs. USA is a collection of my appeals and court filings.
The abstract is not correct on that, either. I escaped in Aug 2008, not Oct. And my petition for habeas wasn't denied, it was withdrawn because I had escaped. See? Even simple details like that people can't get right.
But I find it interesting how the author demonizes me for my sex life when anyonem else can do the same things and be considered normal. What's so scandalous about skinny dipping with a woman at a party? I'm queer. Whoopee! Or having a threesome? Men drool over the idea, yet because I'm a woman, it somehow makes me a whore. This is conservative Republican journalism for you.
Anyway, the author words things to make them seem true but they are concoctions of his own mind made to juice of the story. He leaves out the exonerating evidence because it doesn't fit into his narrative. He avoids uncomfortable issues and exaggerates what's left. And I know this just from what I've read in blurbs and conversation wtih my mother. Just garbage.
One thing it has done---it is raising questions and awareness about just how I got convicted. My mother went to confront the author and the prosecutor was there at the book signing. He admitted to mom that there was always doubt in my case that I did not get the defense I deserved and that forensic analysts are biased, both for and against the State. He apologized to my mother.
An attorney agreed to take my case pro bono. And we are looking into possibly participating in a documentary about my case for the Oxygen Network. A local investigative reporter also wants to look deeper into my case. So there is good news.
NPR just did a series on a bunch of convictions that were overturned in Canada for neglect or murder of children. Many women were convicted of murder because of forensic pathologist who manipulated reorters to make sure the parent was convicted when it was really an accident.
And recently, here in Indy, a bunch of convictions for driving under the influence of cocaine were overturned because they found that the processes were done wrong at the forensic labs, resulting in a false positive.
It was the forensic analyst that manipulated her testimony and research to match 100% to a letter that I never wrote, and convicted me of murders I never committed.
So, life is interesting. I wonder what will happen next?
Take care,
Sarah
Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #65
[Ed.: Sarah made me these two amazing cards. They are cards fashioned from words cut out from various publications, much like the ones I make Amir. My scanner broke and I'm too tired to fix it. They were black. white and red too. She also started this HANDS art program and I need to scan that. It has poetry, art, etc. on it.]
Kelly,
My life would not be as fun without your ongoing and ever-changing dramas. I laughed so hard after reading your story about the giant SNAFU with Amir, Ali and Teresa. No so much the problems and the heartache but the absurdity of it all. My all time favorite line: "And even though I basically poisoned him and caused problems in his family, he can't stay away from me. I have trouble with liking sociopaths."
That should be the subtitle of your memoir: I have trouble with liking sociopaths. And now that you are back to square one with your job, I really suggest you give writing a memoir a long, in-depth thought. You an take most of your material frolm the blogs you have already written. It wouldn't be near as hard as starting from scratch. Please think about it.
I I were NOT going to do the RIGHT and rational thing, going full-force into crazy and burn down everything in sight, what would be my mode of revenge? Thats a really hard question because 1) I am ridiculously rational and cautious about not harming others, even when they've harmed me, and 2) I think anything really crazy would be illegal, which wouldn't go over well because Teresa is an atty. and 3) any actions taken are just going to perpetuate drama.
I prefer only accepting drama if the outcome is really wotth it to me, like my 2008 adventure. However, I've been in a dramatic relationship before and understand the allure of accepting drama in exchange for keeping the romance, but to GET RID of someone you've semi-tortured and who comes back with $700 shoes a week later, then cusses you out only hours later, on your bday, and then comes back all sweet and calm?
Who fucking knows? I'm sure one of the reality TV actresses could give pointers. Isn't there an ASK A BITCH website?
Maybe you could ask the pigeon who has been stalking you to give you a sign. That had to be a creepy experience to wake up to. However, with the supernatural you can't just ignore these things when you know they are not just coincidences. You know the paranormal is real. Did you ever have an out-of-body experience? I have LEARN ASTRAL PROJECTION on my list of things to do before I die. That is absolutely amazing about the medical healers you went to for your bladder disease. I totally believe you. Some people sense energies as colors, some as patterns, some as feelings... there's an energy medicine lady named Donna Eden whose book I use for reference when I have female issues and I use her acupressure exercises and movements in a regular meditative routine I do sometimes. See? Your fortune-teller story, this one, could be one of the chapters of your book. People love that stuff.
I'm surprised people don't understand the Third Entity. I often daydream or night dream about David. I had short and lustful relationships I high school before meeting him in 1996, but none of those people created the magic that is necessary for the Third Entity. But me and David---we had it. And actually, we also lost it before we called it quits. That's how I know what you mean, that it, not the PERSON you are longing for, but the person you were when the 3rd was activated--those feelings, the magic, the depth of emotion, the intimacy of touch, the joy in your laughter. It's different, it's dreamlike and euphoric when you have it. it's hell and misery when you lose it and I have chased it in my dreams for over ten years. I pine for the way he made me feel, and in my dreams, just being iwth him can bring back what I need.
Yesterday, I woke up from a dream about David and wrote about my feelings. Perhaps that will be the subject of my guest LIVE/Die! I will write one for you. Yesterday was exactly ten years since I have held his hand and seen his beautiful face. Life is so unfair.
Do I ever feel weird and crazy? Yes, especially since I've been locked in a room for 2 1/2 years. I think more often than weird or crazy, I feel misunderstood or like I'm speaking a foreign language to those around me. Sometimes I feel like an alient after speaking to prison officials. Or m aybe they are the aliens. Hey that would explain ALOT.
Your feeling about enjoying the Auction House because of its strangeness and possible bad experience is exactly what this atty friend of a friend from NY/NJ seeks out. He goes to restaurants ans placed that get terrible reviews or warnings just to experience it.
Any man who IMs his buddy's g/f (current or ex) at midnight for an unrelated issue to their purpose has interest that reaches beyond business as usual, even if he acts professional the next day. He's probably just minding his manners, but I can guarantee you that the tought crossed Bruno's mind. It's an involuntary male reaction that is nearly universal.
One of the birthday cards that i got was a lovely reproduction of a Swiss photo with red and green leaves and golden shimmery accents with a kind of oriental edging. One of the things she wrote inside was using the birthday as an excuse to look back adn get complete about the past and then look forward like it is New Year's Day, any day I want. There's a freedom in this, knowing that at any moment, I an turn over a new life, a new purpose, sever old baggage or forgive old resentments. And so I am taking that on.
Perhaps a way to get through your heartache is to create a new dream that you can focus on or have hope in happines that would come of it were true. A dream that is not based on anyone in the past, so that you aren't recycling the old entity but creating or seeking a new one. If you focus on finding a new love, it will be easier to weather the ache of an absent or ambivalent Amir.
Oh! That reminds me. With your tendency to gravitate towards sociopaths, there is a test that several states use in their criminal justice systems to rate a person's likelihood to be psychopathic. PLPR. There was a story last week about CA prisons using it to determine parole. You could obtain a copy of it and rate your beaus. If you think that maybe you'd do the rational thing and avoid high scores. Somehow, I don't think it would completely deter you.
I hope you are feeling better. I'm going to turtn on a country station, exercise and start something on paper for a LIVE/Die! Take care of yourself, Kel.
--Sarah
P.S. Just got your letter with the review of the Punch Drunk production. This just reconfirms what i said about your memoir and writing a section on paranormal or even writing the whole thing from that perspective of how signs or eventsd or messages from the Universe show up and shape your life.
The Magic page and Satine's link are indeed, a sign. Did I ever tell you how spells and magic helped me escape and run? I'm not saying you should put a love spell on Amir. Mabye the sign is to put a spell on yourself to ward off sociopaths and attract your best love partner. You won't be happy in love with someone who wasn't meant to be. If Amir is menat to be your love mate, then a spell for yourself will bring him back into the fold. If he is not, then you haven't lost anything except more heartache.
Yes, I use toothpaste for glue. MINTY FRESH! Glad you liked my card for you.
Tofranil is an anti-depressant that is the brand name for imipramine. It's a tricyclic anti-depressant used to treat a thing called enuresis, which I have been told that in kids, results in bedwetting, in adults, incontinence. The side effects I experience are hot at times (due to increased metabolism), increased nightmares for the first 3 weeks, and I wake up faster in the morning and stay awake, though there's an afternoon energy dip. All in all, it's really good for me. Perhaps you should try it.
Okay, off to shower and start my LIVE/Die!
Sarah
Kelly,
My life would not be as fun without your ongoing and ever-changing dramas. I laughed so hard after reading your story about the giant SNAFU with Amir, Ali and Teresa. No so much the problems and the heartache but the absurdity of it all. My all time favorite line: "And even though I basically poisoned him and caused problems in his family, he can't stay away from me. I have trouble with liking sociopaths."
That should be the subtitle of your memoir: I have trouble with liking sociopaths. And now that you are back to square one with your job, I really suggest you give writing a memoir a long, in-depth thought. You an take most of your material frolm the blogs you have already written. It wouldn't be near as hard as starting from scratch. Please think about it.
I I were NOT going to do the RIGHT and rational thing, going full-force into crazy and burn down everything in sight, what would be my mode of revenge? Thats a really hard question because 1) I am ridiculously rational and cautious about not harming others, even when they've harmed me, and 2) I think anything really crazy would be illegal, which wouldn't go over well because Teresa is an atty. and 3) any actions taken are just going to perpetuate drama.
I prefer only accepting drama if the outcome is really wotth it to me, like my 2008 adventure. However, I've been in a dramatic relationship before and understand the allure of accepting drama in exchange for keeping the romance, but to GET RID of someone you've semi-tortured and who comes back with $700 shoes a week later, then cusses you out only hours later, on your bday, and then comes back all sweet and calm?
Who fucking knows? I'm sure one of the reality TV actresses could give pointers. Isn't there an ASK A BITCH website?
Maybe you could ask the pigeon who has been stalking you to give you a sign. That had to be a creepy experience to wake up to. However, with the supernatural you can't just ignore these things when you know they are not just coincidences. You know the paranormal is real. Did you ever have an out-of-body experience? I have LEARN ASTRAL PROJECTION on my list of things to do before I die. That is absolutely amazing about the medical healers you went to for your bladder disease. I totally believe you. Some people sense energies as colors, some as patterns, some as feelings... there's an energy medicine lady named Donna Eden whose book I use for reference when I have female issues and I use her acupressure exercises and movements in a regular meditative routine I do sometimes. See? Your fortune-teller story, this one, could be one of the chapters of your book. People love that stuff.
I'm surprised people don't understand the Third Entity. I often daydream or night dream about David. I had short and lustful relationships I high school before meeting him in 1996, but none of those people created the magic that is necessary for the Third Entity. But me and David---we had it. And actually, we also lost it before we called it quits. That's how I know what you mean, that it, not the PERSON you are longing for, but the person you were when the 3rd was activated--those feelings, the magic, the depth of emotion, the intimacy of touch, the joy in your laughter. It's different, it's dreamlike and euphoric when you have it. it's hell and misery when you lose it and I have chased it in my dreams for over ten years. I pine for the way he made me feel, and in my dreams, just being iwth him can bring back what I need.
Yesterday, I woke up from a dream about David and wrote about my feelings. Perhaps that will be the subject of my guest LIVE/Die! I will write one for you. Yesterday was exactly ten years since I have held his hand and seen his beautiful face. Life is so unfair.
Do I ever feel weird and crazy? Yes, especially since I've been locked in a room for 2 1/2 years. I think more often than weird or crazy, I feel misunderstood or like I'm speaking a foreign language to those around me. Sometimes I feel like an alient after speaking to prison officials. Or m aybe they are the aliens. Hey that would explain ALOT.
Your feeling about enjoying the Auction House because of its strangeness and possible bad experience is exactly what this atty friend of a friend from NY/NJ seeks out. He goes to restaurants ans placed that get terrible reviews or warnings just to experience it.
Any man who IMs his buddy's g/f (current or ex) at midnight for an unrelated issue to their purpose has interest that reaches beyond business as usual, even if he acts professional the next day. He's probably just minding his manners, but I can guarantee you that the tought crossed Bruno's mind. It's an involuntary male reaction that is nearly universal.
One of the birthday cards that i got was a lovely reproduction of a Swiss photo with red and green leaves and golden shimmery accents with a kind of oriental edging. One of the things she wrote inside was using the birthday as an excuse to look back adn get complete about the past and then look forward like it is New Year's Day, any day I want. There's a freedom in this, knowing that at any moment, I an turn over a new life, a new purpose, sever old baggage or forgive old resentments. And so I am taking that on.
Perhaps a way to get through your heartache is to create a new dream that you can focus on or have hope in happines that would come of it were true. A dream that is not based on anyone in the past, so that you aren't recycling the old entity but creating or seeking a new one. If you focus on finding a new love, it will be easier to weather the ache of an absent or ambivalent Amir.
Oh! That reminds me. With your tendency to gravitate towards sociopaths, there is a test that several states use in their criminal justice systems to rate a person's likelihood to be psychopathic. PLPR. There was a story last week about CA prisons using it to determine parole. You could obtain a copy of it and rate your beaus. If you think that maybe you'd do the rational thing and avoid high scores. Somehow, I don't think it would completely deter you.
I hope you are feeling better. I'm going to turtn on a country station, exercise and start something on paper for a LIVE/Die! Take care of yourself, Kel.
--Sarah
P.S. Just got your letter with the review of the Punch Drunk production. This just reconfirms what i said about your memoir and writing a section on paranormal or even writing the whole thing from that perspective of how signs or eventsd or messages from the Universe show up and shape your life.
The Magic page and Satine's link are indeed, a sign. Did I ever tell you how spells and magic helped me escape and run? I'm not saying you should put a love spell on Amir. Mabye the sign is to put a spell on yourself to ward off sociopaths and attract your best love partner. You won't be happy in love with someone who wasn't meant to be. If Amir is menat to be your love mate, then a spell for yourself will bring him back into the fold. If he is not, then you haven't lost anything except more heartache.
Yes, I use toothpaste for glue. MINTY FRESH! Glad you liked my card for you.
Tofranil is an anti-depressant that is the brand name for imipramine. It's a tricyclic anti-depressant used to treat a thing called enuresis, which I have been told that in kids, results in bedwetting, in adults, incontinence. The side effects I experience are hot at times (due to increased metabolism), increased nightmares for the first 3 weeks, and I wake up faster in the morning and stay awake, though there's an afternoon energy dip. All in all, it's really good for me. Perhaps you should try it.
Okay, off to shower and start my LIVE/Die!
Sarah
