Survivor I Changed the Rules

By Therone Shellman

From hustling at fifteen, to pulling stick ups at sixteen, Shellman found himself at the age of seventeen being sentenced to four to twelve years in prison. In an honest and brutal way Shellman tells his life story from a powerless child to a power crazed misdirected youth, survival of the fittest on the

• Language: English
• Publisher: Therone Shellman Media
• Release date: Apr 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781638772361

Therone Shellman

Therone Shellman is an award winning author, CEO of Therone Shellman Media a tech-literary-audio-visual media company

Book preview

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About Author

Therone Shellman was born in Brooklyn, New York. But was raised in Long Island, New York. He wrote his first novel Love Don’t Live Here in 1990 while serving a four to twelve year prison sentence. In 2003 he self published the story, but realized he didn’t possess all the necessary knowledge needed to become a successful author. After studying the industry for eighteen months he formed Third Eye Publishing, Inc and released the revised edition of Love Don’t Live Here. The title to date has sold over sixteen thousand copies.

He’s currently the owner, of Therone Shellman Media, an entertainment company he’s building from the ground floor up to support all of his artistic endeavors. The company will produce all of his books, music, motion picture media. Therone is currently engaged in background acting, and growing as an actor and host.

His books include, Love Don’t Live Here (revised edition), No Love Lost, Survivor I Changed the Rules, One Good Man, Race & Politics, All You Need to Know to Become An Entrepreneur, The Secrets of Self Publishing 2, Third Eye Awakening, Third Eye Awakening II, Third Eye Awakening III. Third Eye Awakening IV releasing in 2021.

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Copyright

SURVIVOR

I changed the rules

THERONE

SHELLMAN

Copyright © 2016 by Therone Shellman. All rights reserved: No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

This is a work of nonfiction. In most cases the names of people and locales have been changed to protect their identities.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63877-236-1

First edition published by Third Eye Publishing, Inc.

Therone Shellman Media

www.theronesmedia.com

www.instagram.com/theroneshellmanmedia

www.facebook.com/TheroneShellmanMedia

www.twitter.com/TheroneSMedia

Editor: Melissa Forbes/Carbon Copy Editing

Graphics Designer: Mahoganie/Mahoganie Underground

CONTENTS

Book One

Chapter 1Trust1

Chapter 2No Fault Of Mine6

Chapter 3An Uncertain Destination10

Chapter 4A New Home15

Chapter 5Getting Used To New Places37

Chapter 6Your Time May Never Come74

Chapter 7The Beginning85

Book Two

Chapter 8Learning the Ropes106

Chapter 9The Building Blocks113

Chapter 10Awaiting My Fate127

Chapter 11Sentencing Day143

Chapter 12Going Up North147

Chapter 13School Of Hard Knocks154

Chapter 14Mid State Correctional Facility160

Chapter 15Greene Correctional Facility164

Chapter 16Coxsackie Correctional Facility174

Chapter 17Wake Up Call186

Chapter 18Auburn Correctional Facility189

Chapter 19Out On the Streets, But Not Free199

Chapter 20The Hustle207

Chapter 21Streak of Luck Runs Out223

Book Three

Chapter 22A New Direction234

Chapter 23Preparing For the Dirty Book Game243

Chapter 24Jumping Into the Daily Book Game248

Chapter 25Surviving the Distribution Madness259

Chapter 26Election Day 2008-Barack Obama270

Chapter 27Thinking Things Through273

Chapter 28The End in Mind277

LETTER TO MY READERS

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Forward

Survivor: I Changed The Rules is more than just a testament about my life. It’s an honest look at us as humans by someone who has nothing to lose or hide. Through my mistakes and triumphs, I want all to read this book to learn and experience in the hopes that you do not feel you have to experience these things for yourself to be somebody—a gangster, tough, or just plain ignorant. I am telling you that if you choose to fall in that ditch I fell in after I tell you I fell in that ditch, then you’re outright ignorant. Throughout my life I have fallen in many ditches, and I’m here right now writing these experiences so you can bear witness. I’m no prophet, preacher, or man on a mission to save humanity. I’m just a human like you who bleeds, breathes, feels, and thinks.

You will read this book and feel as if I’m talking to you personally. You see, I know this secret. I know your fears. I know what scares you when you look in the mirror. I know why you don’t want to be alone, and may even choose to be around people who may mean you no good. Who wants to be alone in this big world filled with so many people? The truth is many people are alone. If you’re in a relationship with someone who doesn’t care for you like you care for them, then you’re alone. If you are friends with people who do not care about you like you care for them, then you’re alone. I could go on and on. I may even spook you with my honesty about how I look in the mirror and see myself in situations. At the same time I realize and will make you realize that we all are a reflection in some way of others and society. There is no man/woman who walks this planet too good or pure to be without sin. Our bad deeds pose as an embarrassment to such a degree that we either choose to become numb to be able to handle them. Or we justify by claiming all was done in the name of survival, counter attack, or self-defense in response to the unfavorable actions of others.

Most children are defenseless because they are at the mercy of adults, who are incompetent, incapable of being parents, educators, or understanding of the position that children are faced with, which is having no control or real way to fend for themselves without the input of an adult. I witnessed this reality at an early age and decided that I would create this invisible cocoon to protect myself from the world and others, mainly adults. School, home, society, and any other place did not matter because I had a special place within my mind that I would go where no one knew where I was, although my body would be in their presence.

Unlike most children who become teens and learn offense and how to act, I was stuck in the mode of reacting and being on the defense, and always calculating the next move. Although being forced to think like an adult developed my mind, it underdeveloped my emotions in the sense that I was cold, calculative, and learned to justify my actions whether good or bad, just like adults do. Children cry when they do bad things because they have yet to be hardened by the world. I, on the other hand, having experienced mental hardships and somewhat understood my circumstance came to the conclusion that I needed to make sense of all my actions to be able to survive.

My teen years were ones filled with many questions. Since I took to reading early on and an interest in politics, world events and reading the newspaper every day to keep abreast of what was going on beyond my immediate world caused me to become a lot more mature than other teens. They may have done better than me in school, but it was my choice not to participate, although I was more than qualified to do better than the best of them in regards to school grades. I disliked school and felt that the curriculum was racist toward African Americans. When February came every year and they would set a course to teach us about the history of blacks in America, I would be filled with embarrassment, anger, and the need to state my opinion. I knew that black people’s history did not start with slavery and that people of African descent were making great accomplishments long before slavery. That black people contributed nothing before slavery is one of the greatest untruths.

Finally as a teen I developed some sense of structure and confidence built around my personal life experiences up until then, and reading. I was very comfortable with being a young black man, but I was angry as hell with the white world who had a great disdain for black people. This was especially so of black men, specifically young black men like me. I didn’t want to go to school anymore to be a part of the lie. Yet I did acknowledge education and developed a love for learning. I just didn’t want to do it inside these racist institutions.

A teen has three choices; school, work, or the streets. I chose the streets. Being aware of economics and the reality that I as a teen with no high school diploma was not going to make any serious money legally, the streets seemed promising. Most young folks faced with this equation come up with the same thing. Thus the trap awaits. It’s not a matter of if you’re going to get caught. It’s a matter of when.

Somewhere between my messed up family life and the streets I found myself attracted to the whole idea of books and the value they serve to humanity. I was especially drawn to books about learning. Somewhere within my mind there was this dream about me some way, somehow helping those like me, these lost young persons striving to find their way in life. Becoming a psychologist or writer/author appealed to me, but so did the lure of easy money, and by the time I was fifteen years old, I was on the chase, losing myself by the second.

The idea for my first story was in my mind for two years. Yet it took me to get locked up to take the time to write it all down. In 1989 it was not popular for young guys from the streets to write, let alone read a book, especially heterosexual black men. Unlike most of my brothers, I was aware of the history of black people. In this I learned that being a man had everything to do with intelligence, and that in a lot of ways masculinity throughout the ages has been defined by it more than brute force. Although I was doing the intelligent thing and utilizing pen and paper to convey my thoughts, I was angry and wrote a drama-filled, gritty story. I passed chapters around to my cellmates, and after receiving some nods I sent it out to Holloway House Publishing in California, the company that published Donald Goines and Iceberg Slim. About a month later I received a response. Hurriedly I opened the envelope to find the rejection letter, which basically stated they liked the story but were not focused on publishing street literature at the time. I was disappointed, but not discouraged, because at least I was acknowledged.

Writing, and redefining myself had become a way of life for me in prison. I was dealt the hand of being a leader among my brethren, but I was in search of who I was in the larger world as I walked and lived within a compound and community, which was just a small part of the larger world and society.

Writing for me seemed like such a good way to be able to teach. I got a chance to read all of Donald Goines works, and although I enjoyed the stories, for me they were bridges to go on and read more serious works. I knew I would not enjoy penning and was not meant to write such stories. In a way I was glad that my first stint into getting my work published did not happen, because I might have been forced into having to write each and every story about the streets. I realized, though, that I wanted to incorporate reality into my works, but did not want to write non-fiction, preachy work. And at the same time I did not want to have to write about the happenings of the street world. I wanted to entertain people, but at the same time teach them. Hit them with the entertainment, relax them a bit, and then give their mind something to think about. I was going after a female audience, and therefore needed to talk about a subject that appealed to them. Thus the idea to write a story based around single motherhood was born.

In the long run I ended up pursuing my writing career on my own. After a few bumps and scrapes the first time around, I got it together and formed Third Eye Publishing, Inc. I realized out the gate that the journey was going to be rough because the black book market resembled the hip-hop industry in some ways. The more glamorous and outrageous the story, the more the mostly female readership ate it up, because it appealed to their senses/emotions. You are talking about a readership who consisted mostly of the poor and borderline middle class. Reading for the most part was a way for them to get away from their dreary lives of working, paying bills, and starting over again the next week. Books were not looked at as a medium to learn, evaluate their conditions, refine their thoughts and actions, and give themselves and those around them a better opportunity at life.

After the first six months of Love Don’t Live Here Revised Edition released, I realized a good segment of the authors and publishers fit within the same mold of this readership. They write mainly to make a dollar. Very few are serious readers of the black experience. They may read the newspaper here and there, or watch the news, and can quote what many have already stated about their world’s present condition (which is basically their city, borough, or state). But truly knowing the history of the world or the black experience is something they did not know. Nor did they want to take out the time to seek this information. So with a readership which has digressed since the history of the Black Renaissance, and writers who are not a part of the purpose of social change, the black lit business sort of has become a way for anyone to try to come up and make a few dollars no matter where their minds are at, or whether they even can pass a G.E.D. test. Just like the music industry, the educated prey upon those who lack knowledge and direction these poor writers, who want to write, but cannot read contracts, some of whom claim to be so street wise but cannot muster up enough sense to know when someone is trying to get over on them, or know when someone does not have their best interest in mind. They do not know how to choose their friends or business associates. It had become quite a task for me to stay out of the realms of the ignorant, and at the same time keep the shady business wise folks who seek to prey on anyone at arm’s length. They assume everyone fits the mold of the last person they got over on, so they use no discretion in their dealings. One year after establishing my company I found myself going back to street tactics. Business is business and no one is my friend. The truth is everyone can be a potential enemy if given the right opportunity.

With a solid allegiance to my views and realizing that I needed to be business smart as well, I began to seek out those whose views were similar to mine, because the book world had become the field and battleground for me. I’m a capitalist, but I also realize that those who have the most knowledge or material wealth have a civic duty to the greater community.

I’m a realist, not an idealist, so there is no middle ground with me. I cannot be a part of both worlds, so a side must be chosen. By the time I released No Love Lost in April of 2007, I realized that my views were not shared by most of the black fiction writers within my age group or within the groups or associations I affiliated with. I’m a non-fiction writer’s mind within a fiction book world dominated by entertainers.

I needed to break out the mold into my own, so I decided to utilize all of my talents, not just my ability to write. I’m a very good speaker and thinker, so with this in mind I decided to do speaking engagements, lecturing, and mentoring as well as writing articles for newspapers and magazines. From mid summer of 2007 into 2008 I chartered a course to establish my name to be synonymous with being a businessman and an intellectual, both of which are very important to my overall future in general within the greater world.

At thirty seven years old I’ve come a long way from being that defenseless child who had to depend on adults to fend for him. I also have come a long way from that confused teen who was torn between the street world and the greater world, not wanting to choose one over the other because of friends and associations. Today there is no middle ground for me, and I’d rather be disassociated from those who I have different views from than be in their presence. Not to say we have to be enemies, but great things are built by those who share common goals, not by those who have opposing views. Every day I ask the One God to give me greater opportunity and insight so that I can become greater, and do greater things, because in life all things change for the better or worse. Nothing stays the same. I cannot think how I used to think because that time is past, and this is a new day to do new things.

I hope my story Survivor: I Changed The Rules inspires you to live a greater life. It’s the reason why I told my story. This therapy for me can be your salvation, or of someone you know. Please share my story. For in my life and testimony lies the answer to many of our problems.

Sincerely,

Therone Shellman

A SPECIAL THANKS

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Dedication

I’m not going to say things and give thanks to a million people to look and sound politically correct. Instead I’m a keep it real and give thanks to those who I truly am thankful for. To my mother, Barbara, your kind words as a child taught me some real important life lessons. To all the readers who have supported me from day one, all of you are the reason why I’m so honest and open when I write. My apologies that this book is watered down a bit, because for legal reasons I could not