In 1997 Mark Salzman, bestselling author Iron and Silk and Lying Awake , paid a reluctant visit to a writing class at L.A.’s Central Juvenile Hall, a lockup for violent teenage offenders, many of them charged with murder. What he found so moved and astonished him that he began to teach there regularly. In voices of indelible emotional presence, the boys write about what led them to crime and about the lives that stretch ahead of them behind bars. We see them coming to terms with their crime-ridden pasts and searching for a reason to believe in their future selves. Insightful, comic, honest and tragic, True Notebooks is an object lesson in the redemptive power of writing. “Extraordinary. . . . Everything about this book seems perfect.” — San Francisco Chronicle “Fresh, galvanizing and articulate . . . a narrative that asks as many questions as it answers. Cogent, thoughtful and honest.” — The New York Times “One cannot read. . . and not be stirred . . . As moving as it is sparse, as revealing as it is concealing, as straightforward as it is complex.” — Los Angeles Times Book Review “Engaging. . . . Salzman creates a cast of lively, convincing, and hugely sympathetic characters and True Notebooks is filled with powerfully moving scenes.” — O, The Oprah Magazine In 1997 Mark Salzman, bestselling author Iron and Silk and Lying Awake , paid a reluctant visit to a writing class at L.A.'s Central Juvenile Hall, a lockup for violent teenage offenders, many of them charged with murder. What he found so moved and astonished him that he began to teach there regularly. In voices of indelible emotional presence, the boys write about what led them to crime and about the lives that stretch ahead of them behind bars. We see them coming to terms with their crime-ridden pasts and searching for a reason to believe in their future selves. Insightful, comic, honest and tragic, True Notebooks is an object lesson in the redemptive power of writing. In 1997 Mark Salzman, bestselling author Iron and Silk and Lying Awake, paid a reluctant visit to a writing class at L.A.'s Central Juvenile Hall, a lockup for violent teenage offenders, many of them charged with murder. What he found so moved and astonished him that he began to teach there regularly. In voices of indelible emotional presence, the boys write about what led them to crime and about the lives that stretch ahead of them behind bars. We see them coming to terms with their crime-ridden pasts and searching for a reason to believe in their future selves. Insightful, comic, honest and tragic, True Notebooks is an object lesson in the redemptive power of writing. Mark Salzman is the author of Iron & Silk , an account of his two years in China; Lost in Place , a memoir; and the novels The Laughing Sutra, The Soloist , and Lying Awake . He lives in Los Angeles with his wife, the filmmaker Jessica Yu, and their daughter, Ava. 1. Somebody Mr. Jenkins unlocked the bolt and pushed the steel-frame door to K/L unit open with his shoulder. "Look who's back. Nice trip?" "Very nice." I had just returned from my sister's wedding in Connecticut. "Did we lose anybody while I was gone?" "Paulino's in the Box, but he'll be back." "Hey Mark! Whassup?" Three of the boys in my juvenile hall writing class were already in the library, their folders and notepads spread out on the table. Toa, a seventeen-year-old Samoan with a linebacker's build, stepped forward and gave me a hug. "So you bring us any maple syrup, or what?" he asked. "Maple syrup?" "I know 'bout that 'cause a watchin' Mr. Rogers when I was a kid." Raashad's eyes opened wide. "You seen that show too?" "Every kid seen that show, fool. Nothin' else to do in the mornin' 'cept break toys an' shit." "Yeah, I was always like, where that neighborhood at? Nobody got drunk or beat his ass or nothin'." "Yeah," Toa said, "but check it out: that show be fake. Know how I figured it out? People always be walkin' in and outta his door and he never locked it. He'd'a had all his shit jacked if it was real." "Yeah! Homies be like, 'It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood--now gimme that train set, fool.'" "So how was your sister's wedding?" Antonio asked me as I handed out pencils. "Beautiful. Perfect weather, too." "Any fights break out?" Toa asked. "At the wedding?" "Nah, at the reception." "No, no fights. Where are the rest of the guys?" "The chapel. They got some kinda meditation retreat over there this morning. Could you gimme another pencil, Mark? This one don't got no eraser." Toa frowned. "'Cause you bit it off, fool. I just seen you." "I didn't bite nothin' off. It was already gone, I was just chewin' on the metal part." "I went to that meditation thing once," Antonio said. "I went 'cause I heard the instructor was this hot female, but then I got there and it was some bald guy in a robe playin' a harmonica. Fuck that." Raashad checked the eraser on his new pencil, then said, "Yeah, you suppos'ta