I am me.
Just not me, me.
I'm a fake version of myself. One that sometimes pretends she is fierce and has the confidence of an angry mother. She is that version that, on a whim, started this blog, a Facebook page and opened a Twitter account. Then she left and I'm in charge and I'm a bit confused to tell you the truth. Couldn't she hang around and tell me what to do next?
I can tell you the one thing I learned for sure: Social Media is a BEAST! But you probably already knew that. Either that or you are bigger and badder and know how to conquer the beast. Lucky you. (Don't judge my use of badder, it sounded interesting in my head.) (No, it's not used in my book.)
So apart from me not being me in the confidence department I'm also not S.K. Anthony. That B is my alter ego and to be honest I want to be her when I grow up. She thinks she can write like it's nobody's business and share stories that are entertaining. I'm not talking grammar here people, just that she can put her work out there. She tends to show up only when I'm working on the book and when I need help over here she excuses herself saying that she is tired, typical. So...
Dear S.K. Anthony,
Help a sistah out.
The real me.