I spent my summer writing. (Big surprise!) I was writing a novel that I had every intention of publishing under a pseudonym. It was different from what I had written before. It was still a bit strange, and quirky, but it was…different. And different can be scary.
So I came up with a pen name and spent all summer creating a blog for Ms. Fakey Pants (a/k/a Terri 2.0). I built her a Twitter following and secured her email accounts and did all of those things that one does when creating a fakity-fake-fake. The problem was, I didn’t want to be fake.
I finally feel comfortable in my own skin, and damn if I want to hide behind some persona. I really love this book, and the characters, and the quirkiness, and the paranomality (is that a word) of it. I also like the sexy bits. Sexy bits are good. So…why?
Maybe because for as long as there have been writers there have been people throwing in their unsolicited opinions about what we should write. Whether it is well-meaning relatives or nosy co-workers or fans who desire The-Series-Which-Never-Ends, there is always someone telling us “You know what you should write?”
Um, actually, yeah. I do. I should write whatever the &%$#@*^ I feel like writing.
So I am.
And I am going to own it. No pen name, no persona…just me.
So, in the spirit of going au natural, I am posting a picture of myself sans make-up and glasses. Just me and my naked face. (No make-up? No problem. No glasses? Well, yeah…that makes me feel naked. And blind. Reeeaaaalllly blind)