As you may already know, Unplanned is the true story of Abby Johnson. She worked at Planned Parenthood for years, rising in prominence until she became the youngest clinic director in the company’s history. She was honored as their Employee of the Year. She had a husband and a daughter and what probably seemed to others as the perfect life. But, as the promotions say, what she saw changed everything.
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Welcome to the future, where humans have colonized the moon, Mars, and much more. Where people are categorized based on the planet they come from. Where living on a spaceship for more than a month at a time is normal. Where crew becomes family.
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The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia… There’s no doubt about it, we readers and writers love fanfiction.
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One of those Ancient Greek philosophers – Aristotle, maybe – said that there were three types of friendship. Whatever he called them, I’m going to call them the Fun Friend, the Useful Friend and the True Friend.
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Each of us has a place inside, deep inside our inmost being, hidden away from prying eyes and mocking words. It is a place of snowflakes and bubbles, of hopes and fears. It is a place in which one wrong move means catastrophe…
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Killarney: I did the writing, and I would give it to her to review, chapter by chapter. [To Margaret] Then I’d call you up, panicked, and say, “OMG this won’t work!” And you’d be like, “We worked this all out…”
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I’ve never seen the Emerald Isle
Nor walked where Patrick trod,
But I’ve heard tell of it’s great beauty
Formed special by the hand of God.
The twenty-fifth of December has come and gone. The radio stations have gone back to their regular programming. The Lifetime channel is no longer showing Christmas movies (though Hallmark will continue through January 2nd). Stores are taking down their Christmas displays. Christmas trees are showing up on the side of the road. It seems like Christmas is over.
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What is it about Christmas music that can steer our emotions so effectively? Sure, all music can do this, but I feel it most deeply with Christmas music…
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I’ll wear a dress and go to each dance,
But still will I fence and in secret wear pants.
I’ll smile and wave, speak genteel, polite,
And ‘scape out the window and run in the night…
I was thinking about Monty Python and the Holy Grail in all its ridiculous glory when I realized that similar skewed logic is used all the time in the real world, as if it were true logic. The conclusion seems sure before the argument, and as often as not, it is to the detriment of others.
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The biggest pile that e’re was seen
Of pots, pans, dishes, stacked and unclean,
Nigh on three feet of the countertop covering
I must begin soon ‘fore fruit flies start hovering!
Oak trees like bombers
Soaring toward the sky
Laden with burdens
To loose upon the unsuspecting below…
Pride and Prejudice was the first period drama novel I had ever read. It was on the summer reading list for my high school (I usually read every book on each year’s list, though only two were required). I enjoyed the book immensely. While Lizzy was practically me, I had Jane’s optimistic view of every person in my acquaintance. Kitty was understandable as well, as I, too, rarely got to do anything before my younger sibling…
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I see you, my friend,
Riding off again,
On orders from madmen…
The dog ran into the classroom first, followed by the two children.
“Should we be in here?” the boy asked.
The girl shrugged. “Why not? Just ‘cause it’s a big-kid classroom?”
“It’s Saturday,” the boy reminded her. “And we’re not even in the kindergarten wing.”
…And it bothered me that these proud mothers who never thought but that their unborn children were alive last year would call this year their family’s first Father’s Day, for fathers become fathers when their child is conceived, just the same as mothers become mothers at that time. If we want the world to accept that truth, we need to start changing how we talk.
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“Hullo. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m… I’m Elsie.”
“No, you’re not,” I told her. “You hesitated.”
To my surprise, she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I like to be called Elsie,” she said. “My nurse used to call me that, before they made her leave.”
“Mother, Father, Mary, Henry, and the children are all safe and healthy,” Helen thought, counting her blessings. “And I am on my way to live with Aunt Lucy, who is kind, and Uncle Henry, who is a carpenter…”
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The German guard would never let me enter if he knew what I was planning. I had to be calm, confident, charismatic to get by him, or I’d be shot. Or worse. Getting out would be harder – I’d have to use all my acting skills to brazen my way back out of the ghetto with the Jewish children hidden in the ambulance…
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LogoSophia Magazine 