Not untill all babies are born from glass jars will the combat cease between mother and son. But in a totalitarian future that has removed procreation from woman’s hands, there will also be no affect...

once ruffle-skirted vanity table where I primped at thirteen, opening drawers to a private chaos of eyeshadows lavender teal sky-blue, swarms of hair pins pony tail fasteners, stashes of powders, colonies of tiny lipsticks (p.39)

I don’t think there are enough words in the world that exist to express exactly just how much I love my son! He’s right there in the front of my soul, he can turn me...

I feel so honored to be able to say “What I do is for my son” without that being an excuse to do stupid things (like what I’ve heard from some moms over the years,...