Dear Messrs Scott, Cumberbatch, and Ms Stubbs


I’m sure you recall me.  I was located in the middle-back of the auditorium where you gave your speech.  I was the one pretty much writing out your Q&A verbatim to my friends and family on Facebook.

I was photo call number 3,476,128.  You know, the point of the day where you were kept standing through the power of the love of your fans… or will power… or because your legs had locked… any way I was really impressed you were still standing.  And that you were so kind in a situation which would have overwhelmed me.

I was the one who sat across from you.  Well, more like floated.  I could tell instantaneously why you have had such a long and fruitful career.  Thank you for making me feel special.

I would have never placed myself at a “Con.”  Would have never thought in a thousand years I would sit rapt while listening to talks on “thinking”graphics, or wallpaper.  Never did I think I would find myself standing in line for a photo at a door while listening to a group of girls recalling all the hair colours a strangely named actor has dyed his hair over a five year period.

But, then again, I never thought I would live in England.  Or run two marathons (and 14 half marathons).  Or cycle 50 miles a week to and from work.  Or be a Mom.

Proves you can’t plot out life.

Sitting in the middle-back of the auditorium (Remember? I was wearing black.) I watched as a woman (There were a lot of women there, weren’t there?) tentatively take a microphone and say, “I’ve got a theatre exam in a few weeks and I have problems with nerves.  Do you have any advice?” to which you replied,

“Well, we’re all going to die any way.  So, just have fun with it.”

The room exploded in laughter.  You said a lot after, and most of it was wonderful and profound and passionate.  But the humour and the truth of those first two sentences rang out.

I was sitting at a convention for Sherlock, one of my most loved television shows.  Why?  Because, well, why not?  We’re all going to kick off this Earth so might as well do something we enjoy.

And I enjoyed listening to you.

And meeting you.

And sitting for a brief moment along side you.

You have each inspired me.  Thank you for being a part of one of the most surreal things I’ve done since boxing up my things and moving to this country.



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