Margi Keys stands accused of being over-exposed.
"The tall poppy syndrome," she tells her friends on social media "came out, with one or two people talking about how over-exposed I was."
"If you raise your head more than three times, some people think you are too much," she commented.
I met Margi for the first time when we met to talk about her ambitions to become Whanganui's "Apostrophiser," a fixer-upper of bad grammar. And I have always been fearful of having to report on her again, as one might do with a school examiner looking over our shoulder as we desperately try not to make a single mistake.
But I don't mind Margi growling me. On both our first meeting, and indeed our second at the recent Feijoa Festival, Margi exuded something I can't describe, except perhaps to say a genuine-ness (that's bound to be wrong, sorry Margi), and a warmth-of-spirit that made our interviews most enjoyable.