Doug Clark: This column is brought to you from behind bars

The dour, nervous-twitching editors are always cramping up over how to boost our sagging readership, especially in those difficult horn-dog demographics known as 18- to 34-year-old males.

Like always, I have come up with the answer:

More coverage of women behind bars.

And so today I am proud to introduce my new incarcerated correspondent, Jillian the Jailhouse Journalist.

Jillian Wenger, that is. She is a 23-year-old inmate at Pine Lodge Corrections Center for Women, a minimum-security facility in Medical Lake. Jillian is doing time for a controlled substance charge and jumping bail.

But here’s the good news. Jillian called collect the other day to tell me she wanted to change her ways and become a columnist just like me.

Deeply touched, I offered this poor caged dove a chance.

I told her to write a column about her life in the joint. Quite frankly, I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong. On Friday afternoon, a letter from the state-run lockup awaited me when I finally managed to stumble into work.

Inside was Jillian’s first column, and the young woman has talent. A language arts expert I happen to sleep with looked it over and said the prisoner would ace the WASL writing test.

If Jillian doesn’t burn out, I will occasionally run excerpts of her jailhouse journalism.

This will serve two purposes: 1. Help our dude demographic, and 2. Lighten my already modest workload.

Here is Jillian’s first effort (interspersed with my italicized mentoring commentary).

”PRISON. The place where telling is unheard of. Right?

“Hardly. Two girls got in a fight here last night. No cops saw it, and everything got cleaned up before they showed up. But sure enough, 20 minutes later we were yarded in and the two girls were taken to the hole.

“So much for prison code, huh?”

All right! A girl fight. The kid has potential.

“Here in Pine Lodge Corrections Center, we have all the luxuries Chowchilla (a California women’s prison) doesn’t. We have crafts and karaoke. We have pinochle and spades tournaments.”

Crafts and karaoke? Is this a prison or the freakin’ YWCA?

“We have an overweight cat named Charlie who has his own house and a water bowl with his name on it.

“Some of the cat-lovers housed here have taken to this Garfield look-alike so much that they use their very own combs to lovingly comb out his flea-infested mats.”

Gross. Enough of the Animal Planet.

“On one occasion a fistfight broke out between two grannies over who was going to use the tweezers to get the tick out of Charlie’s cheek. I guess we are all looking for love.”

More fighting. We’re back on track.

“The guards here don’t carry guns or nightsticks. They don’t walk around looking to cause trouble.”

Making points with the screws. Smart.

“What I personally hear most is, ‘Ms. Wenger, please watch your language.’ I was infracted by one of the kitchen staff for profanity.”

Tell me about it. I once got a scolding letter from a guy who claimed my lurid prose was corrupting his granddaughter.

“Now, I know firsthand that prison is not supposed to be pie and cake. But there are so many inconveniences that it makes one wonder if it is all on purpose. …We still can’t wear shorts in the chow hall or sandals outside, and we still must wear socks at all times, even outside in midsummer.”

Oh, the inhumanity. Does Amnesty International know about this?

“Shift change is at 2:30 p.m., and this is usually when our unit sergeant comes on. Now picture this: She’s an ex-military cop and a very stern lady with an edge to her voice that makes you jump when she comes on the intercom.”

I have the same reaction whenever Jimmy Marks calls me.

“When she comes around, you feel that she’s about to point out each and every small thing you could be doing wrong, which makes it understandable why our porch clears out with four simple words: ‘Here comes Sgt. Castilla.’

“If you ever were to muster up all your courage and hold a conversation with her you would realize she’s a pretty nice lady. To quote a fellow inmate, ‘She’s a teddy bear.’

“I would be inclined to agree with this, but would add – with claws.”

More points with the screws? What are going for, Jillian, a pardon?

“My boyfriend was worried prison was going to make me hard and heartless. But in actuality I think it’s given me the ability to feel compassion for others dumber than me; others less fortunate.”

I pity my readers, too.

“We aren’t hard here in “The Lodge” though some of us think we are because we are trapped behind these razor wire-topped fences. But behind these walls – physical and mental – we’re all the same: lonely females ripped away from our families.”

Will the inmates riot over the repressive no shorts policy? Will Charlie the Cat win the next karaoke contest?

And more importantly – will the girl fighting continue?

Stay tuned for the further adventures of Jillian the Jailhouse Journalist.