Inspiration comes when you least expect it

During one of my book signings featuring Violet’s Secret, I was able to bring in readers from the community who had seen that I’d be visiting this past weekend.

I’d like to especially thank Maggie for visiting me. I hope she doesn’t mind that I mention her here in my blog, for her purpose and her brother’s story has inspired me to keep pursuing writing novels in the unpredictable, sometimes bleak, future of education that I trudge through in my “other” life.

Maggie is a 10-year-old effervescent reader who was given the opportunity to write through the vision of a couple of her teachers who started a Young Authors’ Club (I’m going to steal that idea in some form, by the way). She and her lovely “Nanny” traveled a distance to visit me to secure a signed copy of Violet’s Secret to read before summer vacation comes to a close. Delightfully, I signed her book; but the story doesn’t stop there.

I’m not going to use his real name, so I’ll call Maggie’s brother W.  From what I learned, W is fighting mitochondrial disease, for which there is no cure. He asked Maggie to bring home a book about roller coasters for him. W loves roller coasters, and I hope that he builds them big and strong someday! W wanted me to sign his book, too. Maggie’s “Nanny” (one special lady) had a great idea:  they bought a journal for Maggie and her brother to write stories about roller coasters. Not only did I feel that I had inspired reading but also writing! With her humble, hopeful way, Nanny never once wavered from giving Maggie and her brother this opportunity to create a new world, one where they could turn back time if they wanted to, and I was chosen by Maggie to be a part of it. At least that’s how I felt.

I’m sharing this in my blog, hoping that no one is upset that I’ve shared any of these details, but instead, hoping that I’ve conveyed how genuinely moved I was by this visit at my book signing. I told my family when I arrived home afterwards, just barely inside before a fierce thunderstorm swept overhead, and I cried only then. My sons hugged me and looked at me with tilted heads–curiosity, wonder, sympathy–I’m not certain. But what I do know is inspiration came when I least expected it.