I would spend the next year pondering this question of how “not-me” I should pretend to be in order to draw more attention to the “real-me” of the book. Thus began the season of my life in which I would post about my book at least once a day, such that I might be unfollowed by many friends on social media, whom I don’t blame, not a one—I’d have grown tired of me, too. I did grow tired of me. I would have unfollowed myself, had that option been available, which it wasn’t, I checked.
