When my son is arrested for possession of a stolen firearm and drug charges, I start to realize that he isn’t the only one who has recovery work to do…
We chat to author Janice Morgan about her recently published memoir, Suspended Sentence, and she discusses the challenges she faced while writing this memoir, along with what she hopes readers will take away from reading it.
Hi Janice! Tell us a little about yourself!
I’ve taught French language, literature, and culture at a small university in Kentucky during my 28-year career. It was great working with young people, sharing my enthusiasm for ideas and works of the imagination that they might not have come across otherwise. And, of course, their reactions, speculations, and comments—in return—greatly enriched my world. I’ve published academic articles on filmmakers with a social vision, people like the Dardenne brothers in Belgium or Jean Renoir or Claire Denis in France. Recently, however, I’ve shifted gears to write a more personal book on the topic of mental health and addiction, called Suspended Sentence.
Your memoir, Suspended Sentence, is out now. What can readers expect?
I wanted to write a book that would draw the reader right into the experience of a mother whose son has been arrested with wanton endangerment and drug charges. This happened to me in 2011. The main story line is suspenseful—as it was for me at the time—because I didn’t know what was going to happen; I felt completely out of control of events. And I wanted to capture my son Dylan’s reactions, too: his rebel nature, his dreams for himself, his wild struggle to deal with bipolar II, and his tendency to self-medicate which has gotten him into so much trouble. When Dylan’s case finally receives a diversion to drug court, we in the family all know this is a very strict, structured program that could really help him, but no one—least of all Dylan himself—knows if he can successfully complete it or not. And the stakes are high: if he doesn’t, he’ll be sentenced to more time in jail.
Another strand of the narrative is more reflective: I, as narrator, look back through two decades of Dyan’s life trying to see what led to this difficult situation. Were there early signs of trouble ahead? What were they and was there any way we could have avoided coming to this point? I look for meaningful patterns in the chain of events, and look for better ways to help Dylan not just stay in the program but find some measure of wellbeing for himself, even with a chronic illness. So both of these narratives are moving forward at the same time.
What made you want to sit down and write Suspended Sentence?
The topics I write about in the memoir have so intensely impacted my life, how could I NOT write about them? Writing was one way I used to cope with the emotional turmoil. Of course, I also wanted to understand the illness that so often sent my son’s life spiralling out of control. The further I went into my project, though, the more I felt the solidarity of other parents who were also going through similar struggles. We all knew how hard it was for us to talk about these issues openly, except in our small group. I think that’s because the dominant discourse on topics like mental illness and addiction has been so prescribed in stereotypical ways (dominated by fear, shame, and blame), that until recently, there hasn’t been a willingness to learn about them in fresh ways that can be helpful. But many families are dealing with this now, so it’s important to open the channels of conversation and problem-solving.
Did you face any challenges while you were writing?
Yes, personal writing of this kind can become isolating. Just as I needed to reach out in my own life to find “fellow travelers” to share the experience with (i.e. a family support group), I also needed a first reader early on, to help me start shaping the narrative. This reader happened to be my partner, John. Next, I joined a seasoned writers’ group, which was an excellent way for me to find my voice and “get out of the closet” as we each read our pages out loud around the table. Their comments were free from judgment and only focussed on how best to communicate with a reader. They asked questions; they were curious. And I learned a lot from their writing as well. This was an invaluable form of support and kept me going.
What do you hope readers will take away from reading your memoir?
I hope they will be moved by the characters: their stories, their struggles, and their desire to be well and to be accepted for who they are. Along the way, I try to share what my family has learned, but I certainly don’t have all the answers. For those who are new to this territory, I hope they will be curious to learn more. And for those readers who already have first-hand experience with anxiety, depression, mood disorders, or another complicated illness like addiction in their families, I hope they will feel seen and supported. We all need more honest conversation about mental health and how to get appropriate help at the right time.
What’s your writing process like?
I generate lots of content which then needs to be winnowed down, shaped, and revised. For this memoir, I drew from an extensive journal I kept, but only key parts of that made it into the finished book, while much more had to be generated from earlier periods that I wanted to write about and integrate. Once I was into the project, ideas would come to me at all hours, and I would scramble to jot them down in a little book I carried everywhere. An exciting moment came toward the end: putting it all together into a sequence after all the pieces were finished. How would they fit and flow together as a reading experience?
Lastly, do you have any book recommendations for us?
Given my central topics, I recommend Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson; the whole book is a powerful argument for a compassionate justice system rather than the punitive one we’ve inherited from the past. So much can be done to help young people, in particular, who sometimes enter the criminal justice system before they are even adults, as the author points out in Chapter 10, “Mitigation,” an excellent overview of mental illness and the courts. For parents of an addicted teen or young adult, confused about what to do, I recommend D’Anne Burwell’s Saving Jake. For someone either living with bipolar or who wants to understand how to better manage the illness, I recommend Ellen Forney’s new book, Rock Steady: Brilliant Advice from My Bipolar Life. And a book I’m looking forward to reading soon is The Collected Schizophrenias by Esmé Weijun Wang. After hearing an interview with the author, I expect that book to be as compelling in its own way as Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison’s earlier groundbreaking account, An Unquiet Mind. And anything by Oliver Sacks, the late British neurologist who was also such an inspiring writer and humanist, is excellent.
