Dear Reader, the Death Star is close to almost somewhat fully operational… perhaps.

I don’t like to blow my own horn but…

No, actually.  What am I saying?!?  I love to blow my own horn.  It has such a unique vibrant resonance that echoes across green valleys with rivers and waterfalls.

My horn blowing is a crystal clear harmonically-perfect masterpiece that is at just the right pitch to make David Hasselhoff gasp and lay the back of his rugged hairy hand to his chiseled forehead, before spontaneously combusting to the tune of ‘Jump in My Car’.  (I love that guy!)

I also love my horn, so much so that I blow my own horn about blowing my own horn.  Cue comedic honk.

But before I indulge in such vocal self congratulatory adulation, I must warn you that if you’re reading David, the avid week-to-week reader you no doubt are, find the strength to stop reading.  K.I.T. can’t save you now, either can a slow motion CJ with breeze blown hair and a bouncing standard issue lifeguard safety float.

We simply cannot lose you, David, king of suave and comedy.  Respect.  Big up yourself.  Comin’ at ya like Cleopatra.

So with that said, here I (finally) go, blowing my own horn, for everyone’s benefit bar the Hoff, trumpety trumpety like the introduction of a king to an archery event.

My novel has been chosen as a semi-finalist in the Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Books of 2012, in the Sci-fi and Fantasy category.  Since I am in North America now, I have the liberty to call it the World’s Greatest Independent Authors of 2012 Championship.

And unlike the World Series, it is an international competition.  Without the drugs.  Actually, I cannot be certain there hasn’t been some Lewis Carol performance enhancers used by any of the other competitors.

(For the record, for complete openness and transparency, I did drink 9 coffees one school night to help me write a short story called ‘The Coffee Whisperer’… it was about a guy who discovered he could talk to coffee beans.  But that was a long time ago and I regret my actions.  Actually I don’t.  But I’m presuming I would if I had a publicity manager on my imaginary payroll.)

Anyway… You can help be my further success.  I will mention you in my Academy Awards speech when the movie adaption wins the best negative cutting category for a foreign film with product placement set in three or more different locations and time periods, and containing an original music score comprised only of horns.

Or whatever award it wins in the hypothetical future.

(Note that that is to say in this particular hypothetical future event … not to say the future is hypothetical, because it invariably and inevitably will happen, but will instead be called the present to those experiencing it.  Don’t ask me why.  I didn’t make the rules… of the universe.  Or the linear timeline we perceive.)

So if I win, your efforts will be recognised.  My movie will no doubt have tough competition though as it will probably be competing with the likes of movies like Dainty Green Tree Frog Man and Google Cars.  Maybe even The Coffee Whisperer.

Anyway, point is, your help will help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  

(Do not be concerned if your name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, I am not stalking you, but merely inserting a cultural reference for comedic purposes and peer approval.  You should be more worried about why your parents gave you that name, and named your little sister ‘The Little Ewok’.  Also, by the same token, do not be alarmed if your name is not Obi-Wan, you have not by some freak metaphysical accident taken the identity of a fictional character.)

Anyway, that is my long winded Hugh Grant way of saying that I … erm … love you.  And am asking for your help.

So how can you help me?  Great question.  I am excited you finally asked the question and won the prize.  The prize being the illusive answer.

By buying The Last King of Shambhala on Amazon and leaving a review, that’s how.  By sharing the love, you will help me (I think) reach the finals, and then perhaps become THE Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Book of 2012 in the Sci-Fi and Fantasy category.  And then we can build a Death Star together with only one small but very important design flaw.

Join me, insert your name here, and leave a review.  I am your father.