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.
