Being an author is sort of a strange thing. As a writer, I spend a lot of time by myself, submerged in worlds only I live in. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, then, when I call myself an introvert. I’m not good with large groups of strangers and, more often than not, I feel like a failure as a human when I’m unable to do what “normal” people seem to do in those situations.
So what happens when it comes time for events when success is riding on coming across as human? Basically, you fake it.