Monthly Archives: February 2020

Bank Robber Stories by Jeffrey P. Frye

by Jeffrey P. Frye

Jeffrey P. Frye never fails to deliver well-written and entertaining stories from his life. His unique background in the legal and illegal professions gives him writing credibility that keeps readers wanting to see what he produces next.

Bank Robber Stories contains humor and a variety of mixed-emotional avenues for readers to experience. A great read for the curious minded about life on the inside of the United States Federal Bureau of Prisons and what might lead a person to change professions from the legal to illegal.

Mr. Frye is now in the process of returning to his natural state before his fall from grace. He will confess to “Not Thinking” if asked, “What was you thinking?” Reading this book proves it!


INTRODUCTION by Jeffrey P. Frye

It takes a special kind of person to turn their adversities into success; their sadness into joy that’s used to entertain others.

And it takes a person with tenacity and depth to continue to seek the sunshine when all you’ve ever known is the rain. And it takes a person with natural talent to be able to write a story under these conditions that’s captivating and that you don’t want to put down.

Wayne T. Dowdy is such a person, and UNKNOWN INNOCENCE is such a story.

In UNKNOWN INNOCENCE, Dowdy takes the reader into the lives of his protagonists, Bobby and Nicole, and tells the story of how it all went terribly wrong. How the forces of bad luck, helped along by a crooked FBI agent and attorney, conspired to take Bobby behind the walls of the United States Federal Penitentiary at Leavenworth, Kansas. Using a pen along with a vivid and epic imagination, Dowdy draws upon his life in the free world, as well as his nearly three decades of walking the line in some of the roughest federal pens in America.

Moving along at a steady pace, UNKNOWN INNOCENCE tells the story of Bobby’s wrongful conviction. Sent up the river for life without parole, Big Bobby never gives up hope though. The one thing that has eluded him for most of his life is the very thing that turns out to be his salvation. Love. UNKNOWN INNOCENCE is a riveting tale that transcends genres. It’s a mystery and a thriller, with a love story woven through its fabric.

Wayne T. Dowdy is a writer for the masses whose voice has purpose. It tells the World, “No matter what happens to me, I will not give up.” This voice takes the broken pieces of a life and combines it with raw talent to bring forth a beautiful mosaic. It’s a voice that says, no matter how guilty I may be, there is still unknown innocence in each and every one of us.

Jeffrey P. Frye

September 9, 2015

Edgefield, South Carolina


The following excerpt comes from the second book written by Wayne T. Dowdy, under the pseudonym of Mr. D, which he self-published with assistance from Midnight Express Books, to inspire and motivate aspiring writers. The Story Behind the Novel contains links for writing tools to help other writers.


[Updated August 14, 2019: This novel was published while I was in prison and most content remains the same; however, on May 8, 2019, I was released from the custody and control of the United States Federal Bureau of Prisons. I removed some of the original content from “The Story Behind the Novel” because it became outdated.]

The story behind the novel may surprise you because I wrote it while serving a 420-month federal prison sentence. Mr. D.” is the pseudonym I used for my first book to avoid any confusion associated with my writings. I am a writer of many genres and am aware that some readers are “profanity-sensitive”; I don’t want anyone to be confused when purchasing my books, essays or short stories. Though not used frequently, profanity is often necessary to capture the personality of a character or to make a scene or setting more realistic; especially, when writing about prison life. A person allergic to profanity may safely read most of my personal essays (inspirational, political, creative nonfiction), but may break out into a rash or go into anaphylactic shock when reading what I write as “Mr. D,” a pseudonym I chose based upon the song, Dancing with Mr. D., by the Rolling Stones, and because my last name begins with “D” and some people call me Mr. D.

Why should the reader find motivation by reading this? It came from the confines of a prison. If I wrote this from inside, without an electronic data storage system, and without access to the Internet, someone “out there” with all of the available technology and resources can really work some magic. This is the story behind the novel:

I am a federal prisoner serving a lengthy prison sentence; to be precise, thirty-five-years, without parole, for armed bank robbery and associated charges. I started on August 18, 1988. I have never used the Internet or seen a cell phone, other than in magazines or on television. I’m somewhat prehistoric, a relic.

In prison, our movement and activities are limited. For instance, I only have until 7:45 pm, Monday through Thursday evenings, to type at the library, which does not begin until my living unit gets released for chow (usually by 6:00 pm). At the library, I use a dumbed-down, AlphaSmart, word processor to type with until the library closes [AlphaSmarts were removed from the library before my release and replaced with the worst typewriters available, with no memory recall capabilities].

Normally, a writer using an AlphaSmart would have an interface cord to connect to their PC to upload what they typed on the AlphaSmart, and would then make modifications to the text in their PC; e.g., change line spacing, font size or style, underline words, or adjust margins. I don’t have a PC to upload what I have typed and cannot modify what I have written, other than typical editing functions, such as copying and pasting, and using spellcheck to correct misspelled words (program does not check grammar or punctuation). Fortunately, the presets include double line spacing, one-inch top, left and right margins, and a 12-pt Times New Roman font. If I want to add an underline to a word or a case cite when doing legal work, I have to create a separate file, count spaces, and then use the underscore key to create an underline. Then I have to run the original document back through a low-quality printer to complete the process.

That gives you an idea of what limited capabilities are when writing and typing from inside a prison (and I am fortunate to be able to do what I do). Some prisons only have ancient typewriters, with no memory storage capabilities. (I authored Under Pressure on such a primitive device.) The only other day I have to work on my writing is on Saturday because the library does not open on Sunday or holidays. During the morning I skip going to eat to type from 7:30 am (or whenever the door opens), until 9:15 am. Then I have to return to the cellblock to be counted. Yes, all of us men must stand up and be counted at 10:00 am, 4:00 pm, and 10:00 pm on weekends and holidays. The 10:00 am Count is a special event: we don’t have one during the week. I often use the break for count to proofread what I’ve written, or to prepare for what I will write.

Once the count clears and the prison staff begin feeding the noon meal, I often skip chow to go type some more. I am usually typing by 11:30 am until I have to turn in the AlphaSmart at 3:15 pm. Fridays and Sundays are my days of forced rest from typing at the library: the only place I can type personal projects.

Where am I during the week when not at the library? Working. I work as the document control clerk in a textile factory of the Federal Prison Industries, Inc., trade name UNICOR. My meager MONTHLY salary averages near $200.00. I used that income to pay for my enrollment in the Long Ridge Writers Group on January 8, 2007. The course is outlined for completion within two years. On July 7, 2008, I graduated. During the same time that I was taking their writing course, I wrote the short story, “Under Pressure.” I attempted its publication by submitting my 6,158-word manuscript (typed on the ancient typewriter mentioned earlier), to various magazines, college literary journals, and entered it in PEN’s Prison Writing contest. It didn’t win. Then on January 1, 2012, my ambition was born to convert the short story into a novel, the hard way, almost five years from the date of when I enrolled in the Long Ridge Writers Group to learn how to write and market short stories and essays. One year after I decided to turn the short story into a novel, it was available worldwide.

My biggest problem in getting started with converting the short story into a novel came from not having any way to electronically store data. When I finished typing at the prison library to return to the cellblock, everything I had typed was deleted according to policy. I knew having memory storage would ease the pain of the revision process (some pages I retyped up to five times to correct a typo, verb tense, or to replace or to add “one” word). I solicited help from my family and friends to have my manuscript scanned and stored on a disk or CD as a word.doc format for the manipulation of data. One of my two sisters, who was not real computer savvy, did go to different places attempting to find what I needed, but the best she could find was someone to scan and save it as a pdf file, which I didn’t think would allow her to alter the text back then (now converters are available that allows a person to modify Portable Document Format files).

I began the conversion process in light of the troubled waters ahead before I learned about the publisher, Midnight Express Books (MEB). Approximately six months after I had surrendered the idea of finding an easier, softer way to write the novel, I discovered MEB through an ad in the Education Behind Bars Newsletter (EBBN). EBBN ran an ad in Prison Legal News and asked for submissions. I submitted an essay and began receiving complementary copies of the newsletter. In the last issue I received, I noticed an ad for MEB, whom works exclusively with prisoners seeking publication [the publisher retired].

At that point, I had decided to go the traditional publishing route, so I passed along the information to another aspiring writer. MEB sent him a brochure. He asked me to read it and asked that I give him my opinion. I was sold when I read about MEB’s optical character reader and computer program for scanning manuscripts, and then being able to digitally alter the text. I immediately added their contact information to the system provided for e-mailing and recording addresses (TRULINCS & Thus, began the correspondence that lead to MEB helping me publish my first novel.

On January 14, 2013, released UNDER PRESSURE for sale to the public as a print-on-demand book. [Note:  Amazon closed CreateSpace, which was a self-publishing division for paperback books. Now authors must use Kindle Direct Publishing and pay Amazon twice the amount of commission for books sales.]

The following day posted UNDER PRESSURE. Now it is available worldwide upon demand through the following sources:

Amazon Books

( )

( )


( )

Smashwords is an eBook distributor who distributes eBooks in various formats to eBook retailers for use on e-readers like the Barns & Noble Nook, and the various applications through Apple products and the Apple iBookstore. When I write other books, essays, or short stories, I will have them posted on my SmashWords’ Author’s page:

If the product in your hands (or before your eyes) came from inside a federal prison, with the assistance of MEB, imagine what you can do “out there” with all of the available technology. For example, Microsoft Word (; 

Word Perfect X9 ( ); and some writers’ tools: Character Writer 4.0 (; writing tools from Master Writer (; for screenplays: Power Structure and Power Writer for writing novels and screenplays (

Maybe one day I will find out. For you, though, if you are an aspiring writer or just a reader with ambitions, apply yourself to the task and reach for your dreams: they may be closer than you imagine.

Perseverance Pays!

Best regards,

Wayne T. Dowdy aka, “Mr. D.”

I welcome all comments, and will respond to all questions as soon as possible, which may vary according to the number received, but I will respond.

Contact Info:

E-mail: or

Mailing Address: Wayne T. Dowdy, P.O. Box 2608, McDonough, GA 30253

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We Are The Cancer

This is an essay I wrote in 2010 in response to the Gulf Coast Disaster and my environmental concerns. Read more of my writings from my author’s page at (, or by searching online for “Wayne T. Dowdy.” Though this essay is more critical and much different than most of other essays about my beliefs and life experiences, I included We Are the Cancer in Essays & More Straight from the Pen because of the seriousness of the topic. I hope you enjoy it and find something meaningful in the words I write.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on

Wayne T. Dowdy

Innumerable oil particles gushed into the emerald green waters of the Gulf Coast, after the Transocean Deepwater Horizon oil rig catastrophe on April 20, 2010, where eleven men lost their lives working to extract oil from the bottom of the ocean for British Petroleum (BP). The tiny particles arrived in masses to penetrate the shores and seep into the marshes, killing living organisms along the way and upon arrival. Waves of the slippery substance overcome marine life, reptiles, amphibians, and mammal alike, by either depleting their oxygen supply, poisoning their systems, or causing them to die from malnutrition by poisoning their food supply. Some of the life forms that the oil didn’t kill, the Corexit did (Corexit is the chemical dispersant that BP used to hide oil beneath the surface).

In David Quammen’s essay, “Contagious Cancer – the Evolution of a Killer,” Harper’s Magazine, April 2008, he wrote about a “parasitic cancer” killing Australia’s Tasmanian Devils (cancer spreads through bites incurred during battles and mating rituals–the process for creating life ends it by spreading cancer). He defined parasites as “[a]ny organism that lives on or within another kind of organism, extracting benefit for itself and causing harm to the other.” And then on cancer, “Cancer differs also from heart disease and cirrhosis and the other lethal forms of physiological breakdown; uncontrolled reproduction, not organ dilapidation, is the problem.” Cancer cells divide and replicate until their mass overcomes their host.

We humans are the parasitic cancer of the Universe: not a pleasant thought or concept to endure, but the facts support my hypothesis. With Earth hosting the human organism, it is our rapid reproduction, along with our desires to prosper and enjoy the luxuries and comforts of life that results in damage to our host. Our rapid replication creates the need for more oil and other natural resources, which leads to our robbing Mother Earth of what we need to be pleased. On March 24, 1989, the Exxon Valdez oil tanker ran aground in Prince William Sound, AK. It lost 10,080,000 gallons of oil that devastated the marine and wildlife of the affected areas in Alaska. If the Earth was human, and the Exxon Valdez oil spill an injury, the injury would have been akin to a slashed finger that leaked a little blood compared to the Gulf Coast Disaster. The Gulf Coast Disaster, caused by BP’s failure to adhere to safety standards, was more like a freshly amputated limb that gushed blood for months. Estimates of the amount of oil spilled have varied, and with tactics used that appeared to obstruct the measureable amount of oil, who knows how much oil flooded those emerald green waters. The long-term effect on the environment is yet to be seen: predictions are not very promising; devastation to coastal life; more deaths and reduced births of wildlife; damage or death to the deepwater corals, crustaceans, snails, bacterial filaments, and tubeworms in the deep Gulf of Mexico waters, which may affect those further up the food chain. The disaster upset the Earth’s delicate balance of life.

Oil extraction and related accidents are only one example of humans “extracting benefits for [themselves] and causing harm to [earth].” The by-products resulting from processed oil is another example: Green House Gas Effects, water and air pollution, and the destruction of natural resources by companies driven by corporate greed, which capitalize on human desires at the expense of the environment. According to Woody Tash, Founder and Chairperson of the Slow Money Alliance, “[i]ndustrial agriculture is one of the most polluting activities on the planet.” [The Sun magazine, June 2010] The more we eat mass produced vegetables, commercially processed fish and meats, the more we assist in the contamination of the air and land by the spread of poisonous pesticides and toxic substances. It takes oil to operate the machinery and equipment (cultivation and transportation vehicles, pumps, generators, etc.).

To make the machinery, equipment, and a variety of apparatuses used for processing, storing, and transporting the goods generated to appease our needs and desires, is another matter; no less harmful to the environment because it divests the earth of natural resources, such as iron, copper, aluminum, and many other metals and minerals. Mining causes water and air pollution, soil erosion, and as often happens, the death of humans who must work for oppressive companies in order to survive. The same processes are required to appease our inquisitive side, which contributes to our damaging effect expanding into space: our space junk (satellites, rocket parts, and a variety of other things we leave behind) litters the Universe; exhaust emissions from space vehicles eat holes in the ozone layer, the same as all other exhaust emissions from carbon producing engines. Besides that, when humans remove all of those substances from the earth, especially oil, what becomes of the space previously occupied by those substances? It seems to me that it would have to affect something. Could that possibly increase the risk of earth quakes? In my unprofessional opinion, I say it does, even though I am far from a specialist in the field.

As the oil escaped Mother Earth, I wonder if BP officials were more concerned about the loss of profits, or about the “Little People” (as I seem to recall one BP official referring to those who do the jobs necessary to get the oil from the ground), who lost their lives while generating profits for them. From what I understand, Oil companies are fined based upon the amount of oil that escapes from accidents, and the estimated cost of cleaning up the damage caused by the accident. Maybe that explains why BP officials used the Corexit in the Gulf of Mexico to sink the oil, with no regard for the marine life and environment. The experience with Corexit at the Exxon Valdez oil spill had provided evidence of its damaging effect on life forms and the environment. If not for wanting to protect profits, why else would BP officials have ordered tons of Corexit to be spread over the Gulf Coast to sink the mass of oil seeping to the surface from the manmade hole in the ocean floor, which resulted from the explosion on the Deepwater Horizon oil rig? Let us hope that the eleven lives lost were not in vain. Maybe their sacrifices will lead to changes that will prevent reoccurrences of such catastrophes, and lessen our damaging effect on the environment.

Perhaps we will go into voluntary remission before we annihilate ourselves by critically damaging our host in our struggle to survive and enjoy life. For those fortunate enough to do so, maybe we can walk or cycle more instead of driving vehicles; eat less commercially produced food; buy more locally produced products, and grow more food in gardens; live modestly on necessities, instead of lavishly on luxuries. Mother Earth may bless us and our future generations with longer life spans and better health. Our grandchildren and their children may one day thank us.

[Since I wrote the original version of this essay, the movie AVATAR came out and became my favorite, even though I do not watch a lot of movies these days, especially those from the fantasy category. (I have watched AVATAR several times because I love the visual effects, the characters, and the correlation between its plot and what happened with the early European settlers and Native Americans.) One of the things I really liked was when the Marine in the AVATAR body prayed to the Tree of Souls and asked for help. The Tree of Souls was a spiritual source for the natives because it connected them with their ancestors. As the pending battle loomed on with the alien invaders, he said something like, “They killed their planet and they will kill this one, too.” In the end, Mother sent all of the creatures to help defend their planet from the alien invaders, who came to take one of their natural resources-a precious metal, located under their Mother Tree, which is where many natives had lived before the aliens blasted it with missles to destroy it. Essentially, the alien invaders made the natives their enemy to justify killing or massacring all life forms to take the precious metal they wanted, much as we have done to others, because we are the cancer.]

Special Acknowledgements

1) Special thanks to David Quammen and Harper’s Magazine for allowing me to use the quotes from “Contagious Cancer – the Evolution of a Killer,” copyright 2008 by Harper’s Magazine. All rights reserved. Reproduced for the April issue by special permission.
2) The Sun magazine, and Woody Tash of the Slow Money Alliance, for more insight.
3) Julie Whitty, Environment Correspondent, Mother Jones, September/October 2010, in writing the informative “BP’s Deep Secrets.”
4) Tom Junod, Esquire, September 2010, in writing “11 Lives,” for giving a face to the eleven men who died on April 20, 2010, aboard the Deepwater Horizon: Donald Clark, Gordon Jones, Adam Weise, Roy Kemp, Dewey Revette, Jason Anderson, Blair Manuel, Shane Roshto, Stephen Curtis, Dale Burkeen, and Karl Kleepinger.

Order your copy today and be inspired. A great gift to share with those in jail or prison or who struggle with making changes to overcome obstacles.