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Excerpted from the novel
 
I remember the first time I flew.
 
I was four years old. My mother decided to take me to Balboa Park for the afternoon. I watched the back of her short-sleeved blouse as we crossed the parking lot to the playground; the sky blue fabric tightened,...

I am not a cool mom. I can’t get into the whole good-for-you-flaunt-it-if-you’ve-got-it-mentality. I don’t think it’s such a great thing when women parade around without much clothing, particularly when the intended audience is young children. As a result of these uncool beliefs, I sometimes find myself in bed (ideologically...

When I became a mother, my daughter’s own teenage years were nothing more than an abstract concept. Like many parents I could not envision life a decade or more down the road, particularly when my own life had not yet taken shape. Though I had a vague idea what kind of person I wanted her to be when she eventually started...

 I left after a 'minor' beating, meaning no skin breaking/bleeding,and no kicking. He 'just' pushed me into a wall, smacked me really hard several times and knocked me down. This was in response to him coming home and finding me on the phone. He had recently stopped taking the phone with him when he left and allowed me to...

I came to abortion work in a rather circuitous way. It was not expected after seven years of strict Catholic schooling and twenty-one Thanksgivings full of staunchly conservative, pro-life family debates. By the time I arrived in Seattle in 1998, a newly graduated college-educated feminist, I had left all of the conservative...

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