It’s now four-thirty in the morning. Two-thirty Las Vegas time, but I’m in Pensacola. I’m wide awake because my roommate had to get up and get out to catch his flight home. I was awake anyway, I do that around two to three in the morning. I’m not an insomniac; I’ll be asleep again in awhile.
But in these wee hours I was thinking about life, the universe, and everything. Actually I was thinking about a young woman who came to Bard’s Tower yesterday to let me know that she’d picked up Wearing the Cape at last year’s con and how much she’d enjoyed it. She also told me that what I did to Hope in the book really hit her hard but in a good way. She herself had been working through some tough events recently, and seeing Hope just keep moving forward really effected her.
I smiled and thanked her for telling me that, and that was that. A small part of her day and con experience. And this morning I’m thinking about it.
It’s a very odd thing, when this happens. It doesn’t happen often. I didn’t deliberately write Wearing the Cape or its sequels to touch and inspire, but apparently it’s happened more than once. An Afghanistan vet wrote to let me know that he’d found himself in a very bad place and discovering Hope and her stories was a life saver, that with the first book he was hooked on a new outlook on life. His family loved me for it and he wanted to thank me.
And so I find myself praying for people I’ve never known and never meant to touch. It’s a very odd feeling. I could get all philosophical about this, but honestly? At four-thirty in the morning I feel like sort of a fraud. And I remind myself that I’m not the inspiration, Hope is. And since Hope is an amalgamation of many things, not least of which is my parents and their attitude and ideals and Way as best they passed it to me, that’s something I completely understand. What inspires me inspires others, we’re all on the same road.
Well now it’s 3:00am Vegas time, and I’m going back to sleep.
Take care, everybody.
MGH
(It’s daylight and I’ve reread this. Still makes sense. Y’all be good now.)
Marion G. Harmon, A Writer in Vegas. 
I was hit with a truck going 60 MPH back in 2001 (I can give you the time down to the minute if you really want, let’s just say the event has been a defining one in my life) and reading about the various heroes’ recovery after serious injury was inspiring to me.
Oh, yes, that’s a very odd feeling.