I run into people everyday who inspire me, both in life and on the page. I listen to books in my pick-up as I drive the long road to work each day, and I heard the story of two young girls who’d been kidnapped and abused as they were rescued by another.
One had the fire of anger and hatred helping her to cope, but the other had retreated far inside herself to escape was happening to her. She struggled in shock to come back to the world around her. Both characters inspired me in small ways: one because she kept her fire so close, defiant to the end, and the other because she knew how to dig deep inside herself to that hidden safe place.
People who can survive cruelty and abuse inspire me and cause me to recognize my own selfishness, in a way, because I live a fairly safe life. They make me think about what I take for granted and about how I can be a stronger person, maybe even a person who would step in for someone in need. I like to think I’d have that kind of strength of spirit.