Category Archives: Sarah’s Thoughts

Best of 2016: Sarah’s Favorite Reads & “Writes”

Two days until Christmas, and only a few more after that until 2016 is over (thank freaking goodness because this year has sucked–see why on my blog here or here), so it’s time to share some of my favorite reads of the year! And tell me your favs in the comments!

 

Top Favorite Read of 2016:

 

This is a memoir from Red from OITNB, or Captain Jane from Star Trek Voyager (where I first met her) & it has all the feels. It’s so eloquently, beautifully written that even the sad parts are wonderful. It’s an amazing story of being a young actress in a pre-tech, all-glam Hollywood world. 
 

Other “Read in 2016” Top Favs:

 

Moonshot by Alessandra Torre

This book is ‘MERICA. I loved, loved, loved it. It’s heartwarming and sweet, but sexy and unexpected. In fact, Love, Chloe and Hollywood Dirt by Alessandra Torre were also some of my favorite reads this year so you should probably just buy them all.
 
This whole series is perfect college, new adult romance. I adored the characters, the connected plots, and the alpha males. Easy, happy, wonderful reads. Highly recommend.
 
The Calendar Girl Series by Audrey Carlan
I literally devoured these. How could you not? They were quick, sexy, steamy, and made me seriously want to be a call girl for a hot second. From book one I was like, how is she going to pull this off with 12 books and 12 dudes and make it romance…yet, she did and it was amazing!
 
One More Thing by B.J. Novak
This is a collection of short stories and essays that I listened to on Audible, and man, I loved it. They are laugh out loud funny, very quirky, and take a ton of imagination. It’s so different and unusual, and made me smile. Highly recommend!!!
 
Wifey 101 by Jamie Otis
Aside from being a wonderful friend, Jamie has graced my life this year with a heartfelt, honest memoir about her life. It’s beautiful, eye-opening, and brutally real in a way that makes you reflect on your own life. For anyone who loves memoirs, The Bachelor, or Married At First Sight TV show!
 
Technically, I had a lot more favorites this year, but I can’t list them all! I read over 55 books this year (plus, I wrote 5!). I’m super excited about what’s coming in 2017, and can’t wait to show you guys, but for now, there’s a little recap below with the books I published this year, plus my holiday novella that you can all pick up now!

 

HOLIDAY NOVELLA

Rocker Christmas
by Sarah Robinson

(Only $1.99 &
#Free on KU)
From the bestselling FORBIDDEN ROCKERS series (http://amzn.to/2iaosNp) comes the sweet conclusion to Logan Clay’s musical journey to find love. In this holiday novella, Logan and Caroline figure out life after fame, while the rest of Logan’s band members begin to take center stage.
 
 

PUBLISHED IN 2016 BY SARAH ROBINSON

Saving A Legend
by Sarah Robinson
(standalone!)
Ex-con gets out of jail only to fall in love with a florist who is the sole guardian for her special needs little sister.
If that doesn’t sound complicated enough, add in a chaotic Irish family and secrets from the past to make this book one of my all-time favorites!
This is the second book in the Kavanagh Legends series, but all can be read as a standalone!
 
Becoming A Legend
by Sarah Robinson
(new release!)
This is the fighter romance to end all fighter romances.
An MMA National Championship in Vegas, a surprise wedding, a enemies-to-lover favorite, tacos (yeah…), and even some mafia action?
This is part of the Kavanagh Legend series but can be read as a standalone since each novel is about a different Kavanagh brother.
 
Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance
by Sarah Robinson
(standalone)
8 years in the Marines, Miles is coming home to care to be with his ailing father…and bringing a lot of secrets, pain, and PTSD with him. When his former high-school classmate turns out to be his father’s new nurse, things get interesting fast.
 
Subscribe to my newsletter to make sure you don’t miss my next release!! Two secret projects coming soon, plus the 4th Kavanagh Legends novel, CHASING A LEGEND!  

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I Have No Answers…But I’ll Find Them

I want to start this post by saying…I’m sorry. You deserve better from me, as my readers and my friends and my family. I also want to say that this post is going to be long, maybe sad, and there isn’t an “I’ll try harder” or “I’ll do better” at the end.

There’s just me saying “this is all I’ve got” and “I have no answers, but I’ll find them.”

[warning for those with triggers, this post gets real]

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

Every December since 2010, I’ve spiraled. Hard. Anxiety hits me like a truck, and depression swoops in to feast on what’s left. I told you all this in my blog post on my website in November about my long struggle with depression. What I didn’t tell you was why or…why now.

I didn’t tell you that at a New Year’s Eve party, only 3 hours into 2010, I was raped and assaulted by a man I trusted. A man I’d considered a best friend. A man I’d considered safe.

For a long list of reasons I may or may not talk about one day, I dealt with this alone. I turned the police officers away in the emergency room when I was being stitched up, and I kept it to myself. I put that night away in a little box and never touched it again.

I spent every year since avoiding New Year Eve celebrations like the plague, always finding an excuse to stay busy. And as the years past, I thought I’d dealt with it. I thought I was okay.

For the first year since, I’m struggling to find the reasons why I’m okay. I’m struggling to remember the distractions I used or what I focused on instead, and for the first time, I’m realizing…I’m not okay. Not even a little bit. I’ve never dealt with this piece of me and never realized that it had already crept out of its box and infected so much of my life. I’m not okay because I’ve never healed, and that is okay. I wasn’t ready then, but I think…I think I’m ready now.

I had a book release ten days ago and I’ve struggled to keep up. I’ve struggled to promote this book the way I normally would, to be online as much as I should, to be as jovial as I should, and I know that’s reflected in how the book is doing. You, as my readers, deserve better than that from me and I’m so sorry.

I know this entire post is different than my usual comedic ramblings or upbeat optimism, but everyone is their own fighting battles and I want to show you both parts of me. I want to be real and open because I need to be, for me, and because I want to be, for you. Because maybe one person will read this post and think…”I’m not alone. I was hurt, too. I haven’t healed, too. I need to heal, too.”

If that’s you, walk this road with me. Feel with me. Heal with me.

I don’t have the answers, but I’m looking for them. I want to feel the same *stars in my eyes* excitement over this book release (because this book is so great and it so deserves that!) that I’ve felt before, but the reality is I’ve closed everything off–both the good and the bad. I can’t feel…anything. And I need to find it again–both for myself, and for my writing.

I need to find me, and I’m going to. I’m going on a trip alone for New Years Eve. I’m spending it by myself in total silence, and not letting a single distraction get between me and healing the parts of me I’ve left broken for so long.

So, this whole post is just me saying I might be stepping back from social media a bit, or seeming a bit off. I might even be a little quieter than before, and I hope you’ll understand. I’m on empty, and I can’t really find where it all went, but it’s gone and I feel, in a way, so am I.

The only thing I do know is I won’t be lost forever. I will find me. I will come back with a roar, beating my chest like a warrior who fought her way out and triumphed. All I really hope for this post and this message is that you’ll be here waiting when I do.

Don’t give up on me. Please.
I haven’t given up on myself. 


Update:
These three blog posts continue to discuss my healing progress and growth:
1) I Didn’t Get Out Of Bed Today
2) The Year of “Me First”
3) Healing in a Moment


Above content originally posted on Sarah’s Facebook page here.

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Sarah’s Top 5 Favorite Apps That Cost $0

Everyone who knows me knows that books are my favorite thing of all the things, because…books. However, in the spirit of Black Friday and Cyber Monday and all the shopping happening this week, I’m going to tell you some of my favorite things that won’t cost you a gosh darn penny and really have nothing to do with writing or reading, because why not?

Here’s a list of my top 5 favorite apps or programs that I use literally every day and kind of make my life. Everything on here, I’ve tried so you can be assured I mean it. However, keep in mind that for some of these I’m also using affiliate links which means I get a little credit, or some times a couple dollars.

TL, DR: We’re talking Digit Savings, theSkimm Daily News, Shine Daily Texts, Breaking News App, and Starbucks Rewards (because, duh).

Anywho, check it out and tell me in the comments which apps you use and love on a daily basis!


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When I Can’t Save $ For Sh*t

A friend introduced me to Digit last Spring and it’s seriously been one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself (aka, I’ve saved $2,000 without even trying). This is a real bank account (yes, real bank account with FDIC insured and the whole nine yards) that saves for you without you having to do a thing. It basically automatically pulls a few dollars here and there from your checking account and puts them in a Digit Savings Account.

How It Works: Set up the Digit app (also done via text) with your checking account and start saving! That simple! You’ll get weekly alerts (or more/less frequent if you want) and you can set how aggressively it saves for you. You can also transfer $ back to your checking account in 1 business day, and you get $5 if someone signs up with your link (Hint!). It won’t overdraft you either, but if on the off chance it does, it will reimburse you everything including the bank overdraft fee (you can also set it so it doesn’t save if your account is below a certain $ amount just in case this makes you nervous!). Now you’ll have a nice cushion of money for emergencies, or a fun goal like a vacation fund or car fund or whatever else you’re saving for! We’re saving up for a car (or maybe that mythical honeymoon we never had *sigh*).

Learn more about Digit at https://digit.co.


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When I Don’t Know What’s Up In The World

Thankfully, a team of snarky, smart, sweet millennials is at the ready to give me the latest news in a less-than-2-minute read in my daily Skimm that goes out to millions of readers, including big-time celebrities like Oprah. Yes, this is Oprah approved! Also, this is bipartisan, so whoever you voted for, you can feel safe reading this!

How It Works: Every Monday through Friday, you get an email about the latest current events happening all around the world. You’ll sound a lot smarter at dinner parties and family gatherings because of it, plus Amazon Echo’s Alexa can read it out loud to you (set that up here) so you’ll feel knowledgable as hell during your morning pee! Side Note: They do have an app that’s $2.99/month and totally awesome and more in depth than the free email, but hey, free is free!

Subscribe to theSkimm today at theskimm.com.


When I Need A Happy Start To My Day

The Shine text has been my lifeline through this election season, and hell, every season. Every Monday through Friday at around 8:30am, I receive an uplifting text message about life, motivations, and positivity.

Here’s an example of the last text I got:
“It is not happy people who are grateful, but grateful people who are happy.” Love. Connectedness. Stretchy pants. Take it all in today, Sarah. #ShineOn 🙂 

Now who wouldn’t want to start their day off with a sprinkle of encouragement?

Sign up to receive your free Shine text at shinetext.com.


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When I Can’t Wait 30 Seconds For The News

The Breaking News app is perfect for news junkies like me because I can get all the latest breaking news in one sentence or less immediately.

How It Works: Download the app to your phone and make sure notifications are set. Now pick up to 10 categories to be alerted on (like the election, US news, local news in your town, etc). If you want more than that, I think you have to pay for it. Now each time something happens, you’ll get a notification on your phone about it! You can get the gist from the notification itself or click on it to read more in depth.

Download Breaking News at breakingnews.com/apps.


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It’s You. It’s Always Been You, Coffee.

I don’t get anything but a pat on the back from myself for telling you this, but if you’re a Starbucks lover, or even occasional buyer like myself, you need this app. I get free drinks all the time just by paying attention to their daily doubles or freebies or other cool promotional days. I also can order drinks from my phone and pay for it with my phone. In fact, if I don’t want to wait in line, I just order it from my phone ahead of time and swoop in at the last minute to pick it up while everyone in line stares at me with murder eyes. It’s fun to be hated by strangers.

How It Works: Download the app and link it to a Starbucks giftcard that you can reload again and again (or once you hit gold level, they send you a personalized gold card!). Order through the app and you’ll collect 2 stars per $1 spent. After 125 stars, you get a free drink of any size or type (you know my free drinks are the fanciest, biggest they have with 8 extra shots and would normally cost $20). It’s really easy to get to 125 stars without spending the $60-something you’d think you need to spend because Starbucks does tons of promotions for 50 free stars, 150 free stars, free daily double star points, free stars for ordering XYQ, etc. You just have to pay attention to the deals! 🙂 If you buy cheap drinks (think tea, coffee, iced coffee) instead of fancy drinks, then you really end up spending a lot less and getting the free drink sooner.

Break It Down For Me: For example, they recently had a deal where 9 purchases (over $1) within a week got you an extra 150 stars on top of the stars that each of the purchases normally gets you. By ordering 9 simple drinks like a grande brewed coffee between me and my husband, we spent $22.50 in a week and earned 150 stars, plus the 45 stars that our purchases got us (aka 195 total). In case that seems like a lot of coffee to you, I’m there every day all day writing so it’s kind of like rent to me (I seriously am talking like 50+hrs a week). That’s almost 2 free drinks right there (250 would be 2 free), and since I get a trenta-sized speciality holiday coffee drink with extra shots for my free drink (a $16.86 value according to my receipt), I pretty much paid $5.64 for 10 drinks, including a fancy as hell drink, and I’m only a few stars away from another free drink in a few days. Side note: I’m horrible at math. 

Side Note for Writers: If you get regular coffee or iced coffee, and I think even tea, you can get a $0.50 refill if you’re still in the store when you finish it! You can hang out all day and drink 6 grande coffees for under $5 and only a minor heart attack. Talk about a cheap office! (Note: the 50 cent refills don’t earn you star rewards). 

Join Starbucks Rewards at members.starbucks.com.


 

For more about Sarah Robinson and her books, make sure to sign up for her newsletter at eepurl.com/RUobv.

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I Didn’t Get Out Of Bed Today, And I Might Not Tomorrow

Trigger Warning: If you’re familiar with my blog, you know things are about to get real AF. You also know you’ll probably feel better at the end of this post than you do now when you realize you’re not alone…or maybe I’m just hoping I’m not alone. Either way, take care of yourself. 

PS: I also curse a bit…because who doesn’t?


 

I didn’t get out of bed today, and I might not tomorrow. I might not the day after tomorrow either, and I’m trying to be okay with that.

I’m being slightly dramatic, since obviously I went to the bathroom and the fridge, then wound up on the couch wrapped in blankets with my laptop…but the feelings are the same.

When I first considered writing this post a few weeks ago, I was going to wait until I was “all better”. Until I was out on the other side, after I’d already reached the bottom and climbed my way up to the top. Because I will be up on my feet again…eventually. That’s how living the last two decades with Major Depressive Disorder works.

For a while, everything is okay. It’s tolerable, and some days, it’s even amazing. You’re happy and chill and things seem like they finally have all worked out. And you’ve earned it because you’ve been there, you’ve been at the bottom, you’ve gone through the worst, and you’ve paid your dues. This is your moment. This is what you were striving for during all those tears. It’s delicious and intoxicating…but it’s also fleeting.

Next come the days that aren’t so great, but not horrible, and that’s okay because it’s still not a depressive episode. It’s still tolerable, and you’re still managing your life.

But even that melts down over a few weeks, or months, or years that are hard. Really fucking hard. Your defenses are knocked down and one day, you just can’t put them back up again.

A little over a year ago, my walls started crumbling. My life suddenly didn’t look anything like I’d anticipated, or wanted. But I’m a strong woman–really damn strong, actually.

So, I powered through and tried to keep a smile on my face, and humor in my words.

I powered through a car accident. Through a miscarriage, then another, then another. I powered through losing people I loved, supports I’d come to depend on, and even the very basics of life–my home, my car, my income, my finances. I powered through losing my freedom, my weekends, or even remembering what a full fridge looks like.

Because I’m a strong woman, I powered through.

And then one day, I didn’t. My walls fell for the last time, and I scrambled like hell to find a way to build them back up, but found myself empty-handed.

I had nothing left.

I know the exact second it happened a little over a month ago now. I remember the feeling…one second I was there, then the next second I wasn’t. There was no specific trigger or reason or traumatic event that deserved this.

I’d  given the very last of what I had, and now I was empty.
It was that simple. It was that fast.

I knew my next depressive episode had started…but no one else did. How could they? I still went through the motions, and met the bare minimums, and smiled when people asked how I was doing. Only my agent saw the pages I wasn’t turning in or the phone calls I wasn’t answering. Only my husband saw the daily tears, or found me  crying curled on the shower floor unable to stand. Only my closest friends saw the emptiness in my eyes and probed further. Only I felt the physical pain of seemingly unbearable heartache throbbing in my chest.

People continued to love and laugh with my online posts or pictures, because they didn’t see that things had changed. I didn’t let them see. They cheered me on, and a few women have even told me they wish they were just like me. I’d smile and laugh it off, because they didn’t really know what they were asking for.

Sometimes I wish I was like the me they saw, too. But it felt like a lie….how could anyone want to be me?

I don’t want to be me.

They just love the online me. They think I’m great because they see the me who’s smiling and tells funny stories and writes sexy books and is always there to help other authors when they need it and so much more.

But that me…is me. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that I am both. I am all of those parts put together, and how could I want anything else?

I can be the woman laughing about a silly encounter with a stranger at the local coffee shop and the woman who feels everything is falling apart and she doesn’t know how to put it back together. I can be the author who helps her friends with their books and the author who didn’t write any words today because depression stole her motivation. I can be the happy fur-mom who posts a thousand pictures of her dogs and the almost-mom who’s lost three babies before she ever could hold them and tell them just how much I’ll always love them.

I can be both, and all of the above, because humans are so many puzzle pieces mashed together and it doesn’t always fit. The picture is sometimes blurry, but it’s all still me. I’m still me.

Someone told me once that I should always be striving to be my best self. Fuck that noise. 

My best self is a full life, and that has to mean I won’t always be at “my best.” There will be tears. There will be grief and sadness and anger and hatred and an ache that feels it may never go away. And that’s okay, because my best self is also joy and love and kindness and celebration and everything else combined.

I’m choosing to live my full life, not my best life. To accept the down days and celebrate the happy ones. To appreciate the laughter because I’ve been best friends with the tears. To mope in self-pity where everything is horrible because the world is vicious and at the same time, be overwhelmed at the genuine kindness of strangers who only wanted to remind me this world can be so wholly beautiful.

My full life is wonderful and painful and joyful and devastating.

I am a strong woman…even when I’m not. I am kind, and loving, and difficult, but worth the trouble. I am all the things people tell me I am even when I don’t believe them. And in the same breath, I’m in so much pain that every breath feels like a question.

But, one day I won’t be. One day, I’ll smile and feel it in my chest, in the beat of my heart, and the lightness in my soul.

But not today. And maybe not tomorrow.
And that’s okay. That’s a full life. 


Author’s Note: If you’re someone struggling with depression or feelings of suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. You can also text the Crisis Text Line if you need someone to talk to in a non-life threatening crisis by texting START to 741-741. Please seek help if you need it. You are strong. You are brave. You deserve to be here. 

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Shout Out to The Mom I Didn’t Come Out Of

Literally my favorite photo ever.

The ridiculously tiny woman in the photo above is my mother.

You won’t find her on my birth certificate, or in the delivery room. She can’t complain about how big my head was or how long labor was. She didn’t hold my hands when I took my first steps, or teach me how to tie my shoes. She missed every cute baby smile and giggling little girl moments when everything was easy and happy.

No, I met my mother when I was a pre-teen and she began dating my father. The happy little girl was a distant memory, and in her place was an angry, bitter young woman who had no idea what anything meant or why her biological mother hadn’t loved her enough to…stay.

For years, I fought her being a part of our family. Imagine the worst behavior a pre-teen, then soon, a teenager, can possibly display, then double it. Maybe even triple it. I threw everything I had at her, but for some damn reason, this new woman stayed.

 

Despite my best efforts, this woman was happy. A LOT.

 

She didn’t push me to be her friend, or call her mom, or even like her. Yet, she also didn’t let me walk all over her, or ignore her, or disrespect her–though I gave it a real college try! When I pulled back, she reached out and reminded me that she was there and that she loved me and that she also wasn’t going to take my shit.

This woman loved me, and she wanted to be my mother.

She may not have been there for my first steps, but she was there for every school function. She was there for every birthday party and comforted me when only one friend showed up (bitter child doesn’t equal tons of friends, y’all). She was there when police dragged me back home, and principals called home complaining, and for every other time I messed it all up and everything came tumbling down around me.

She encouraged me to write, turning my moods and penchant for beating up my siblings, into journaling my feelings with angsty poems written while wearing all black with thick eyeliner inspired by raccoons. She put up with Avril Lavigne at full blast as my 13 yr-old self sat and contemplated how unfair everyone was, how no one understood me, and how lonely and unloved I was (reminder: I was 13, guys.)

But, she was there the whole time, and she loved me. My father loved me. My siblings loved me (okay, there’s still some debate on this one). Everyone loved me, except me.

Maybe that’s why I fought her so much to begin with. And by “begin with”, I mean like 10+ years. She dealt with this for a DECADE, you guys.

 

This was only 4 years ago, and you can see what a delight I am.

 

She gave me something from day one that I couldn’t give to myself–unconditional love. And it was terrifying. I didn’t recognize it and I couldn’t understand it, which meant I couldn’t accept it. From her, or myself.

I’d like to say I grew out of it in a few years, learned my worth, learned her worth, and everything righted itself…but no. My teens came and went, and I was an adult before I could truly look back and see everything for what it was, rather than what I’d wished it had been.

Learning radical acceptance, and to take life and people at face value was a process, but when I finally embraced it a few years ago, my perspective shifted. I realized that my expectations of others were so much higher than my expectations for myself, and that I needed to love myself before I’d know how to accept it from others.

And now that I do, everything is different, even though everything is the same. But the difference now is me. I learned that loving myself meant loving all of me–even the parts that make me cringe.

I also learned she wasn’t perfect, and that I didn’t need her to be to love her. Just like I wasn’t perfect, and she’d never held that against me the way I had against her. I learned that the shame I harbored for my younger behavior was irrelevant, because it was long forgotten in her eyes. She’d loved me…always, and she always would.

I learned that my biological mother wasn’t trying to hurt me when she left, but that it was okay to feel hurt anyways. I learned to stop judging myself based on people who didn’t love themselves, and therefore couldn’t love me.

But most of all, I learned that I was a motherless daughter only because I’d spent so much time refusing to accept the mother who’d been standing by me for the majority of my life without fail. Because the truth is, I had a mother all along, and her name is Lucy and she didn’t give birth to me, but she loves me just the same as if she had.

I did everything I could to get her to leave, because I’d been taught that that’s what mothers do. But Lucy stayed, because that is what mothers do.

❤️

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

I’m so glad she stayed.
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Change Our Normal. Vote.

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Two weeks ago, a female friend of mine was grabbed on the subway. The police officer at the next stop said there’s nothing he can do, after all, “all” the guy did was grab her ass.
 
A month ago, a female friend of mine was turned down for a promotion she more than deserved because the company owner’s nephew was hired for it instead, though he had zero experience in the field.
 
Last week, a female friend of mine was told she didn’t deserve her vacation days because “all the time she took to pump her breast milk” should be considered vacation enough.
 
This summer, I was told if I wanted to write in literary fiction, I should pick a gender neutral pen name so that people wouldn’t know I was a woman. I was told I would be taken more seriously as a man.
 
These stories are just a tiny fraction of a fraction of the stories out there about what women go through. We may want to believe we’re in a progressive society where women have equal rights to men and are valued parts of society, but the truth is, we’re not there yet.
 
In fact, we’re farther away than we realize.
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Women are not paid equally for the same job. We work twice as hard for the recognition a man readily earns. Our sexuality is judged and used against us, when a man’s is prided and encouraged. We’re looked down on for “just” being a stay at home mom, while at the same time, working mothers are chastised for not being home with their children. We’re attacked and assaulted and the first question is what was she wearing? Did she encourage her own rape? Boys will be boys–he couldn’t help himself.
 
That’s our normal. The stories above are our normal. As women, we hear these stories every day and barely bat an eye. They’re not surprising anymore, and every single woman has at some point or another experienced something like these stories.
 
Less than a hundred years ago, women couldn’t vote at all. This year, a woman is running for president. That is progress. That matters. No matter what you think of Hillary, her campaign is a milestone we should revel in as women. (And no, this isn’t a post telling you to vote for Hillary or who to pick at all.)
 
A woman can be President.
We can tell our daughters to reach for the White House.
We can lead a country.
 
And yet, still there are women out there who are saying they won’t vote at all. (And, yes, this post is particularly for women.).
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Don’t let anyone tell you your vote doesn’t matter, or that you hate the choices so you’re not making one at all. Don’t let someone tell you if you’re voting for a third party, it’s throwing your vote away. Don’t let someone tell you if you vote for Hillary, you’re just doing it because she’s a woman. Don’t let someone tell you if you vote for Trump, you must hate women.
Don’t let anyone make your decision for you.
 
Look up the facts. Look up the promises. Educate yourself on the truth and what resonates in your heart, with your morals, your values, and your intellect. Make a decision about what and who you believe in, or who, at the very least, you could stomach as our next President.
But either way, make a decision.
 
Or the stories I mentioned at the beginning of this post will keep happening. They will continue to be our normal.
And that “normal” fucking sucks. 
 
For the sake of every mother, daughter, aunt, grandmother, baby girl, or baby-girl-to-be, change our normal.
Change our world for the next generation of daughters. Make our new normal a world where women are paid the same as men for the same job. Make our new normal a subway trip where they don’t worry about being groped that ride–or worse, and if they are, it’s taken seriously, and they are victims, not asking for it. Make our new normal a country that values motherhood, maternity leave, and doesn’t avert their eyes and cast shame at something as natural as goddamn breastfeeding. 
 
Make that change by voting.
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Don’t pick Hillary just because she’s a woman–that’s the opposite of feminism. But do vote for whoever you think is going to be the best President of the United States…for you, for your daughters, for your family, for your community, and for our country as a whole.
 
There was once a time we couldn’t do even that, and there’s no telling what our future holds. But at this moment in time, we as women have the power in our hands to make a choice and exercise that choice. So, make it.
 
Vote on November 8th.
Because, as women, we need a new normal.
And we can be that new normal.
But only if we vote.
 
#debatenight #vote #rockthevote
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Posted on Sarah’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorsarahrobinson

Images from:
http://www.findingdulcinea.com/news/on-this-day/July-August-08/On-this-Day–19th-Amendment-Gives-Women-Right-to-Vote.html
https://www.the-pool.com/archive/news-views/lauren-s-blog/2015/11/the-election-hots-up
http://javitas.info/files16/women-voting.html
https://www.pinterest.com/agrewin/world-war-ii-propaganda/
https://contemporaryfamilies.org/gender-revolution-symposium/
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The Best Compliment An Author Can Receive

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“I’d Read Her Again.”

There’s a lot of debate in the writer/publisher/book world about why an author should write, or why a book should be published. Is it to record a moment of history? Or make a shit ton of money? Maybe it should be for vague artistic reasons and cost nothing. Or maybe the artist/author/writer should be paid more than $0.99 for a book they spent hours and hours and hours and hours on.

Whatever the reason, it all tends to boil down to one thing for the author themselves. Take away all those things and you’ll still find a writer putting their words out into the world for one simple reason.

I wrote it because I wanted you to read it.

That sinking, thrilling, horrifying, exhilarating high of knowing your words are in someone else’s hands right now and they are READING YOU! *breathes into a paper bag*

There’s really nothing like it, and that high is why writers put their work out there. They want you to love their words, come back for me, and be forever changed by what you’ve given them.

So, to say I was shocked and ecstatic to see a recurring theme to the early reviews for NOT A HERO would be an understatement. I’m FREAKING HONORED AF! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Check out the snippets below and don’t forget to preorder Not a Hero today!!

PS: Preorder Not A Hero: 
(Click on the desired retailer below to purchase!)
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA
TBR on Goodreads | Visit the Author Website
*available on Kindle Unlimited!


I Hit Shuffle On Reviews, & Keep Getting the Same Amazing Song

“This is a wonderful “coming home from deployment” story with fantastic well developed characters. This is my first book by Sarah Robinson but it will definitely NOT be my last.” – Cheryl

“This is an epic love story full off all the feels and I may have shed a tear or two along the way. This was the first book I’ve read by Sarah and it for sure won’t be the last.” – Tracy

This is the first book I’ve read by Sarah Robinson but it won’t be my last for sure, definitely another author that’s been added to my favourites.” – Jordan

“This was a beautiful story which touches your heart in all the right places. This is the first book I’ve read from Sarah and I wasn’t disappointed.” – P Leslie

This is my first book by Sarah Robinson, and it was wonderfully written, with a heart-wrenching, engaging plot and endearing characters. I finished the book over the course of one day, which shows how much I withdrew from reality to enjoy it.” – Meghan

Not a Hero was my very first book by Sarah Robinson but it sure won’t be my last. Being a military romance, I instantly wanted to read it and this book delivered with so much more.” – Melissa

This was my first time reading a book by Sarah Robinson and I found this book well written and that I enjoyed her writing style with the dual point of view.” – Pratna

This is my first read by this author and I’d read her again.” – Ayekah


Preorder Not A Hero: 
(Click on the desired retailer below to purchase!)
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA
TBR on Goodreads | Visit the Author Website
*available on Kindle Unlimited!
NotAHeroEbookCoverUse

*these reviews were all copied from Goodreads reviewers!

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The Woman In This Photo, And Other Things Turning 27 Hasn’t Taught Me

That was cute, Life. But let’s not do this again? KThanxBye.

A year ago today, the woman in this photo had so many plans.

She knew what her next steps were. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get there. She felt strong, successful, optimistic, and so damn excited. She was about to turn 26 years old, going to become a mother, kick ass in her career, finish paying off the debt she’d been working hard as hell to get rid of, and continue adding to her and her husband’s savings for a down payment on a house. Plans were made, actions were taken, and everything was freaking fantastic.

And then life happened, like it always does.

The woman in this photo lost her car, and freedom, in a staggeringly expensive car accident eleven months ago. She also published her first traditional book with one of the biggest publishers in the world at the same time, celebrating with the realization she could do this.

The woman in this photo entered her third year of marriage completely unsure if there would ever be a fourth as communication broke down and pains surfaced they didn’t know how to handle. She also laughed, loved, and lifted up her husband anyway, despite the tears she cried in private.

The woman in this photo suddenly became her home’s main breadwinner, and the debt she’d been paying down skyrocketed back up, their savings gone. She also doubled down and worked harder, wrote longer, and made it work without ever letting the world see her sweat.

But she did sweat, and age 26 dripped away with it.

The woman in this photo did celebrate her fourth anniversary two days ago, not with fancy dinners or sweet nothings, but in the early morning hours with her husband’s hand gently rubbing her back as she cried and tried to breathe through the pain of her third pregnancy ending too soon…again. She sat in the nursery that has been empty for months and re-read their adoption rejection because now they only had her income to count on, and being a (successful) author apparently isn’t considered stable.

The woman in this photo is still miscarrying right now as the camera snaps away, but she’s smiling at the children in the coffee shop and eagerly awaiting holding her friend’s newborn this weekend. She smiles and says “Soon!” every time people ask her when she and her husband will finally start their family, and she tries not to show them how their questions break her.

The woman in this photo wrote 5 books this year she is very proud of, including one that is a terrifying venture into uncharted waters and she’s unsure if any publisher will even want it. She’s also two weeks away from her next book being published, and she’s still working 16 hour days, 7 days a week, and making ends meet, and she always will…somehow.

That same woman turns 27 years old tomorrow., certainly not a big milestone to most. But to her? An entire year of her life is gone, and some days it feels completely wasted.

She has no answers. She has no plans. She has no idea how anything is going to work out, and maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be.

Maybe as you get older, you actually know less. Maybe once the plans and the assumptions and the arrogance are stripped away and you realize you actually don’t know a damn thing…maybe that’s when you finally figure it all out.

The woman in this photo spent the last year losing everything, but at the same time, learning who she is and being okay with who that turned out to be. She knows what she wants, and she knows she has zero idea how to get it, or if she’ll ever have it, but she also knows she’s never going to stop trying.

The woman in this photo won’t have a big party for her 27th, and be hurt when only a few people show up, because she’s learned how valuable her heart is and not to give it away to people who didn’t ask her for it in the first place. She’ll have a tiny dinner with her closest friends and feel so much love, she will probably cry a little at how wonderful it all is.

The woman in this photo hates what she’s been through, but not where it’s taken her, because maybe this was always the path she was meant to take to find herself. She is still married and very vulnerable and it’s absolutely terrifying, but wonderful, because they’re no longer two kids in love, the world be damned, but figuring out how to be adults where love is also commitment and work, and so much stronger and intimate.

The woman in this photo no longer apologizes for what she thinks and feels, instead, embracing her uniqueness and the fact that not everyone will like her. She knows her limits and she tries to respect them, while still fumbling in the dark to figure out how far they stretch.

The woman in this photo feels a strength in her new, hard-earned self that allows her to open her heart, her truth, her pain to the world in this story and is not afraid of the consequences. She’s broken and whole and hurting and healed and everything she wanted to be that she never knew to reach for.

The woman in this photo turns 27 tomorrow.
She knows nothing. She has nothing.
And that’s everything.
That’s happiness.

Because sometimes, you have zero fucks left.

 

Edited to add this amazing photo by a reader! Love! Feel free to share 🙂

Photo by Andrea Dizmang
Photo by Andrea Dizmang
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When You Have to Be A Starbucks Hero

I deserve this flower crown. Because.
This is a little story about how I saved the world…er, Starbucks patrons…from an outlet hog. You’re welcome, everyone. 😂
Me: Excuse me, sir? Would you mind if I borrow that outlet for maybe 30 minutes? My computer is almost dead. *(he’s been using it for 3 hours, so I feel that’s fair to ask, and there’s none other nearby)*
Jerk Face Butthead: What outlet?
Me: The one right there with your phone charger (points at it, smiling nicely)
JFB: You don’t need to fucking tell me my phone is charging. I am fully aware.
Me: Oh. Okaaay. Didn’t realize this convo was going that direction. 🙄
JFB: You can’t use it. I’m busy and still only at 90%.
Me: Fine. Thank you for your time.
Kind Angel Lady Next to Him: My computer is fully charged, want to use my outlet?
Me: OMG, yes! Thank you! You’re so sweet!
JFB: BETTER MAKE SURE YOU DON’T TOUCH MINE.
Me:  🙄 *plugs in computer, careful to not touch his*
JFB: *get up to leave literally 30 seconds later(..the fuck, dude?)*
Me: Excuse me, sir?
JFB: *evil eyes* What the hell do you want now?
Me: You dropped your notebook. Here. *hands it to him* Have a really great day, and I truly hope you feel better. *smiles*
JFB: Thanks, but I’m fine.
Me: Oh? Really? I figured you must be in a lot of pain if you’re being so miserable to everyone around you. I guess it’s just your heart.
JFB: *storms off*
Kind Angel Lady: *laughing hysterically*
Starbucks Employee: He’s in here every day, and let’s just say, it’s about time. Kudos.
Me:  🤗
 
#sorrynotsorry #boybye #whyyougottabesomean #beingaheroallovertheplace #RobinsonRamblings

[This post was originally published here on Sarah’s Facebook page. Follow her on Facebook or on her page for more up to date posts!]
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9/11: The Students With Missing Parents

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All students with “missing parents” were called to the guidance counselor’s office. Every other student was dismissed to their parents, but school officials didn’t know who would be coming for us.
 
Our parents were in towers that weren’t there anymore.
 
Our parents were in towers that every classroom’s television had just shown us was crumbling to the ground–our loved ones inside.
 
When my little sister and I were finally taken home by a kind babysitter, we sat hand in hand on the edge of the cliff at the end of our street–a small stone wall we could perch on and look directly into Manhattan. We sat on that cliff in more ways than one, our eyes straining as if maybe we could catch a glimpse of our dad from miles away. Maybe he was okay. Maybe he wasn’t in the collapse we’d seen on tv.
 
Manhattan was covered by a huge mass of smoke, but the skyline was missing two very obvious buildings.
 
And two little girls were missing their father.
 
Hours passed, cell phones didn’t work, and it wasn’t until night fall that he stumbled through the door. Covered in a white ash, or soot, or I’m afraid to know what else, he was home and he was okay.
 
Everything was okay.
 
And then the news started to trickle in. Friends, neighbors, mothers, and fathers who weren’t going to make the long walk from Manhattan to New Jersey tonight. People I’d known my whole life, suddenly gone. Their kids–my friends–left to pick up the pieces.
 
It’s those kids and their families that weigh on my heart every year. It’s the absolute terror I felt all day waiting for my father to come home, or the ache I feel in my heart when I think of what he went through to return to us that I dwell on today.
 
And every year, I always say the same thing.
 
There will be wonderful stories of survival, sacrifice, and triumph today. Those stories are vital and needed and serve an important purpose. Embrace them. Praise them.
 
Americans are so brave.
 
There will be calls for change, for defending our country, for fighting back. Those spirits and courage are important, too. Support them. Hold them.
 
America is so strong.
 
Then there will be people like me who take this one day a year and we’re not strong. We sit quietly and remember how badly those losses still hurt. And that’s important, too.
 
Allow yourself to feel the hurt, reflect on it, and acknowledge its value. Then, tomorrow, return the pain to where it belongs, and continue on with our heads held high and our hearts open wide.
 
Tomorrow, we can be strong.
Today, we can be broken.
 
We can just be human.
And that’s okay.
 
#Sept11 #NYC #NeverForget
[This post was originally published on Sarah’s Facebook page here. It was shared over 570+ times with 1.2 likes and dozens of comments–what an honor to be able to reach so many people with this story. Thank you.]
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