An interesting thing happened last night, although I guess it was technically this morning. Either way, every year for the previous 10 New Year’s Eves, I found myself staying up past the midnight drop of the Time’s Square ball, where I’d normally sit alone in the quiet of the house after everyone else had fallen asleep. I’d breath deeply and write a blog post about my Dad. The post usually carried me to the 2:00 am mark, the time when he passed away. This year–year eleven–I didn’t do it. It wasn’t that I forgot, possibilities for the post flitted across my mind at odd times throughout the day. But I also didn’t hem and haw over the last minute decision to quietly close my lap top as I walked by to go to bed. I let the post slip through my fingers like dry grains of sand and it felt like the right thing to do.
It’s not that I miss him less now that over a decade has gone by. I’ll never stop missing him. But I think that after eleven years, I don’t need the same things I used to in order to navigate the Dad shaped space he left behind.
For a long time I had to tip-toe around the new version of my life. I was careful because I didn’t want to fall into the black hole he’d left behind. It was a lot like the first night you move into a brand new house. When you wake up from a deep sleep and try to make it to the bathroom, you don’t know where you are or how you got there. And you certainly don’t want to make a move without enough light to navigate by. But you eventually find your way.
Now, after eleven years, I don’t even need a night light. I know my way. Even with my eyes closed, I can navigate around the Dad shaped space. But even so, sometimes I still look to the light…
Of course, I’ll be there supporting Beacon and signing books.
Kimberly Sabatini is a former Special Education Teacher who is now a stay-at-home mom. She lives in New York’s Hudson Valley with her husband and three boys. Kimberly writes Young Adult fiction and is represented by Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency. TOUCHING THE SURFACE is her debut novel. (Simon Pulse – Simon & Schuster)
Experience the afterlife in this lyrical, paranormal debut novel that will send your heart soaring.When Elliot finds herself dead for the third time, she knows she must have messed up, big-time. She doesn’t remember how she landed in the afterlife again, but she knows this is her last chance to get things right.
Elliot just wants to move on, but first she will be forced to face her past and delve into the painful memories she’d rather keep buried. Memories of people she’s hurt, people she’s betrayed…and people she’s killed.
As she pieces together the secrets and mistakes of her past, Elliot must find a way to earn the forgiveness of the person she’s hurt most, and reveal the truth about herself to the two boys she loves…even if it means losing them both forever.
“Sabatini creates an exquisitely tangible alternate reality, ordering the cosmos with impressive authorial derring-do, crafting answers to ontological questions with grace, disarming simplicity, and nary a trace of dogma. All while believable teens–teen souls, that is–tangle with affection, selfishness, and doubt. Thought-provoking and romantic, Touching the Surface takes risks with narrative and form, and succeeds on multiple levels.” –RBW (Chronogram)
“Soulful and inventive. A thoroughly original vision for what happens next.” –Daisy Whitney, author of The Mockingbirds
“This gorgeous, lyrical read will sweep you away.” –Jessica Verday, bestselling author of The Hollow trilogy
Can’t make the Hudson Valley Winter Book Fair and would like to give a signed copy of TOUCHING THE SURFACE for the holidays?
Please contact me HERE and I’ll make sure you get what you’re looking for.
If you’re local, I’d appreciate you posting, reposting and sharing about the Book Fair to help make it a success. Hope to see you there!
I’ve stepped away from social media quite a bit lately. The trolls and the drama of petty and cruel things has discouraged me. But I’ve always known the limit to my silence. A time would come when it would be impossible for me not to step forward and speak up. My fear of swallowing my words would be bigger than any terror I might feel in my exposure.
“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.”
I understand the legitimate fear of terrorist sneaking into our country on the backs of the Syrian refugee children and families in need of our help. But who ever said that doing the right thing–being a leader was easy? I believe more terror will be stopped by our kindness than will ever be stopped by our fear. When I think back at my personal heroes–the people I admire for their courage, intelligence and kindness–I know the kind of behavior I expect from myself.
If you watch a movie like Schindler’s list and walk out of the theater feeling good about yourself, you have to know that being someone’s hero must be earned–that it can never be without personal risk. I’m reading the book I AM MALALA right now and there is a quote from WWII that Malala references and it really stuck with me…
“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”
At my core I know what I would want someone to do for my children if this is what they looked like when they tried to go to sleep at night. How do you look these children in the eyes and turn them away? The day your fear becomes bigger than your humanity–there’s a good chance you don’t have anything worth defending anyway.
#realfirstworldproblems #bethechange
There were a range of thoughtful responses to my post. And those that saw things in a different way than I did, were in truth, just asking important questions. The biggest–how do we protect ourselves and our children from becoming victims too? I understand this. I have children. I wear the responsibility of their lives like an unprotected heart outside my chest. Some days it paralyzes me. But I have a truth I can’t deny. The finest and most satisfying moments in my life have been the ones where I’ve found my courage. I have never been as alive as when I’ve dared to be more–tried to be someone better. And as hard as it might be to put into practice, I don’t think I have a right to prevent my children from experiencing that depth of living. I wouldn’t want someone to take that away from me. When my boys were born and placed into my arms–I never once had visions of what they might one day lack in their lives. Instead, in an instant, their whole lives as extraordinary men played out before me. I could imagine who they would become and how that might change the world for the better. That was their gift.
I also mentioned in that FB post that I’m reading the book I AM MALALA. As every word of this young girls life slips into my ears and moves me deeply, I realize that her parents are the unsung heroes in her story. They never stopped their daughter from being the person they knew her to be in that moment she was first laid in their arms. As scary as it might be, they gave her the opportunity to be her best self. As a parent, may I always be that brave. #withMalala
“There is a moment when you have to choose whether to be silent or to stand up.”
Today I choose not to be silent. I do this–not despite the safety of my children–but for their protection. I do not want them living in a world where girls are beaten for going to school, where refugee children sleep in the gutter, where everyone waits for the next shooter or bomb to strike. I do not want my children to live in a world where the voice of terror is louder than the voice of love. I can not bear to have my children believe they are incapable of being the change they wish to see in the world. Living life to it’s fullest is not an absence of adversity. Living is the triumph of the human spirit no matter what obstacles are in the way.
Careful the things you say Children will listen Careful the things you do Children will see and learn Children may not obey, but children will listen Children will look to you for which way to turn To learn what to be Careful before you say “Listen to me” Children will listen
–Into the Woods
“You may only be someone in the world, but to someone else, you may be the world.”
— Unknown Author
Please speak up. The children will listen if we give them a chance.
Last night I was in the car with the boys, listening to music, when a certain song came on. I immediately looked at the 12yo, pointed my finger and declared that THIS song had a line in it that was my favorite line in any song–ever.
There’s something so intricate, yet simple about it, I can’t help but be startled by it’s magic every time I hear it.
We’ve got everything we need right here and everything we need is enough.
That’s the kind of sentence I aspire to write. That’s the kind of Saturday morning pancakes I want in my life. Just thirteen words–how is it possible that it paints such a colorful picture and evokes so much emotion? And then the melody and the voice…
What’s your favorite line out of any song you’ve ever heard and why does it speak to you.
Aww forget it–it will take to long to get to FIFTY! But while you’re wrapping your mind around the idea that on November 12th you are going to be HALF A CENTURY OLD! *gasp* I’m going to fill our audience in on what the 30 Days of 50 celebration is…
This is Patty Blount.
She is AWESOME.
She’s a fabulous person and the kick ass author of these YA books…
You can find out more about Patty and her books HERE.
On September 17th I received a desperate plea for help from Patty–it went like this…
On Nov. 12, I turn 50 and am not happy about it. My sons think it would be fun to make the whole month of November a big virtual party…
Well, I’m going to be 46 this year and I have three boys. My days are numbered, so I’ve volunteered my services to Patty today.
Dear Patty, for your 50th birthday I give you my husband’s 1972 red GTO. I know you love GTO’s, but I hated that car.
He got the vehicle when he was stationed in AZ, before we got married. Now, I can’t say I hate all GTO’s, but I wasn’t a fan of the look of the 1972 model. But that really wasn’t my problem initially because it wasn’t my car until…
We got married and were stationed in Germany.
We were only allowed to ship one car overseas, so for the early months of our marriage we had to navigate the narrow cobblestone streets of Europe in a noisy, gas guzzling behemoth. It wasn’t pretty. It felt like driving a ship.
Being in the army, my hubby had to get up at the crack of dawn every week day to participate in PT (Physical Training) along with one or two people in every apartment in our housing area.
But one day, I had a special doctor’s appointment several hours north of where we lived. The hubby and I left very early, way before the birds, so we could get there on time. We returned later that day to a housing area full of indignant military folks. Apparently, the majority of the people in our housing area had been using the GTO as a snooze alarm. If they heard that car revving up in the parking lot, they knew they had to get a move on. Unfortunately, the day of the appointment, when we shook, rattled and rolled out of the lot before the sun, everyone woke up out of a sound sleep thinking they were going to miss PT. It was a panic.
It may have been the only time I really liked that car. LOL!
If we still had that GTO today, you can guarantee that I’d give it to you for your 50th birthday, Patty. But knowing it wasn’t practical for our purposes or out wallet, it was easy to sell an American Muscle car while overseas. And even better we were able to get TWO quiet cars instead. *fist pump* I was no longer biking to work in the rain.
Instead I’m giving you a virtual 1972, very noisy, gas guzzling, GTO. I hope you shake, rattle, rev and roll into the next 50 years with the same amount of passion, compassion, talent and general awesomeness that you have the previous 50. Go with the flow and ride on lady–you are awesome. <3
What’s the worst car you’ve ever owned? Are you scared of turning 50? If you could have on car as a gift, what would it be?
