A Message from Will J Phoenix 

Some names, dates, and places have been changed—not to hide the truth, but to shield those closest to me.

My life changed overnight. I went to bed one Sunday after a weekend like any other, not knowing that by morning, everything would be different. I was accused and later convicted of crimes I did not commit—something I still maintain with my whole heart. I lost the woman I loved, my home life was shattered, and the country I’ve called home since I arrived here as a baby over 45 years ago suddenly told me I no longer belonged.

I’ve always worked hard. I raised my son as a full-time single father. I showed up for my family, for my friends, and for my community. I believed in doing the right thing. But in the legal system, I was misled, poorly advised, and ultimately failed—both by those meant to protect justice and by those meant to defend it.

When the verdict came, I was in shock. So was my son. I’ll never forget the look on his face in that courtroom as I was taken away in handcuffs. I couldn’t even hold him. He was left to carry on with the family home, without warning and without my support.

To survive what came next, I turned to storytelling. The truth of what was happening was too heavy to face alone, so I built a world through imagination where I could breathe. Writing became my escape. And in many ways, my salvation.

I had hoped that once I served my time, I could return to my family and rebuild what was left. But just when I thought the worst was over, I was told that my visa and permanent residency had been cancelled. Despite living here my entire life, I was now expected to prove my right to stay.

I was transferred from prison into immigration detention, where I remain today—still waiting, still hoping for a chance to go home.

Through all of this, I’ve kept writing. Every day, stories gave me something to hold on to. They helped me survive, and they continue to help me endure.

Now, I want to share those stories with you—the story of what happened to me, and the stories I created that helped keep me alive.

I don’t share this seeking pity. I share it in the hope that something meaningful can come out of this tragedy. I still believe there’s a greater purpose at work, that from the ashes, we can rise again—if we choose to.

Thank you for being here. Your presence matters more than you know. If you feel moved to support this journey, I invite you to join the newsletter and be part of the books I’ll be releasing soon.

May peace, justice, and kindness follow you always.

— Will J Phoenix