Prison Heatwaves: The Role of Reading in Summer Survival

As the days grow longer and warmer, summer is just around the corner. For most of us, that means sunshine, maybe a break in routine, and time outdoors. But inside U.S. prisons, summer looks very different. It's the start of a dangerous season—one where triple-digit heat meets concrete walls, limited ventilation, and very few ways to cool down.

Many prisons, especially in the South and Southwest, still lack air-conditioning. Temperatures inside can soar well past 100 degrees. With minimal outdoor time and no access to fans or cold water, people are left to endure extreme conditions with almost no relief.

One incarcerated writer described his cell as a "hot box"—a top-tier cell that gets full sun all day, hitting 92 degrees by night. Another wrote about showering with lukewarm water in an already sweltering cellblock, struggling just to get enough cold drinking water. From Arizona, one man put it simply: "It's like being trapped in an oven." In California, during a severe heatwave, prison staff opened fire exits at night just to let in a little cooler air.

In conditions like these, very few things are possible. But reading is one of them—and it matters more than you might think.

Books become a kind of lifeline, offering distraction, comfort, and a way to keep the mind moving. Some of the most common letters we receive at the Prison Library Project in summer months are simple: "It's too hot to think. Please send books." Whether it's poetry, mystery, or a guide to learning a trade, each book we send gives someone a way to mentally step outside their cell, even just for a little while.

One person wrote to us: "Books are our only escape from this place." That sentence stays with us—especially in summer, when escape, even into a good story, can feel like survival.

This isn't just about discomfort. Research has consistently found that incarcerated people are especially vulnerable to heat-related illness, injury, and death—outcomes that experts describe as predictable and preventable. With climate change accelerating, this is only becoming more urgent.

Last summer, the Prison Library Project sent 7,360 books during June and July alone. Requests keep coming in, and we expect this summer to be even busier. Every book represents someone who wrote to us, waited, and hoped—and we want to meet every one of those requests.

We can't fix broken infrastructure or cool down every cellblock. But we can keep sending books. And that matters.

Your donations, your support, and your voice help make sure that during the hottest months of the year, something good still makes its way behind bars.