I Guarantee You Have Never Read This Plot

  For most of my life I was a struggling actor. I appeared on such shows as Mash, WKRP in Cincinnati, and General Hospital. Like the multitudes of actors who migrate to Hollywood I attended an actors workshop to hone my skills.

  The women that ran my workshop got involved in an interesting experiment directing a group of prisoners at the Federal Correctional Institution, Lompoc, California, in a production of Short Eyes. Except for the lead character, all the roles were played by inmates. Because of its success she was granted a weekend to conduct an improvisational workshop with the men who had been in the cast, as long as she was accompanied by a male from the outside. When she proposed the idea to me, I was excited at the possibility of being part of something that unique and agreed to be her assistant. As it turned out, nothing of any real consequence came about, but it was a very interesting weekend that few if any will ever experience. I met some very fascinating guys, some of whom I got along with and others that—let’s just say, I was glad that there were guards stationed just outside of our room.

  After I got back to my regular life, I had a scare that made me think, what would happen if someone were to be part of this program and, by a twist of fate, end up back inside as an inmate?

My book Inside Out is that story.

Danny Belson is a nice guy who could be considered a working actor. He has done a few guest spots and has a small recurring role on a soap. Follow Danny as he goes from a carefree beach-volleyball loving, pool- shooting, nice American guy to a convicted murderer serving his time where he already has built in friends as well as enemies. This is a book of fiction based on real events that happen to inmates on a daily basis.

Imagine how your life would be if it got turned inside out

My experience in the late seventies inspired me to write a script in the mid-eighties that led me to write this book in 2013. So dreams do come true, but sometimes you have to wait for them. At sixty-three I’m proof of that.