Let me tell you about one of my favorite authors of all time.
Diedrich Knickerbocker, a Dutch historian famous for a satirical piece based on the history of New York.
The marketing for this work was amazing, especially given this took place at the turn of the nineteenth century.
Before the book was published, a series of missing person notices appeared in local papers, seeking information on the historian’s whereabouts after his disappearance from a hotel.
Adding to the tension and intrigue was a notice from the hotel’s proprietor, stating that if Diedrich refused to return to settle a bill, the proprietor would publish the manuscript he left behind.
Sure enough, Mr. Knickerbocker never appeared, and the manuscript was published.
A History of New-York from the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty.
A wordy title for a book if I’ve ever seen one.
Such a complicated scheme to promote a book, isn’t it?
It’s inspiring.
Why, you may ask?
Because history reveals the duplicity of Diedrich.
And the man behind this machination has a much familiar name to the public eye.
Washington Irving, the man that put ink to paper on characters like Ichabod Crane and Rip Van Winkle.
A mastermind of his time, concocting a brilliant series of events all to bring attention to a book under the Knickerbocker pseudonym.
And it worked.
The public took great interest in the book and the publicity surrounding it, giving Knickerbocker’s name a life of its own.
But not all such publicity stunts pay off…do they, Deathnote?
For centuries you have written in the pages of your own personal book under a guise, a pseudonym.
Your purpose? To garner fame, or infamy, by amassing followers of your own.
You took great joy in the suffering of others under such pretenses.
The legend of Deathnote and the Shinigami grew to such great heights that you had everyone fooled.
Even me.
You clever bastard.
I can’t help but applaud your work.
A scheme that could almost make me jealous.
But your machinations were never going to last, were they?
Not so long as your father was patiently waiting for your return.
To stand by his side as he reaffirmed his dominion.
Everything you planned and plotted was bound to reach an endgame eventually.
And believe me, this is the endgame.
The world has been clued in on who you really are…and so have I.
That, old friend, will only bring about your demise.
For unlike Irving and his Diedrich deceit, the public will not praise you.
Leaving only with the few suckers you’ve convinced to serve Death himself.
And I will do what I must with you, old friend.
For the times, they are a-changin’.
And I will adapt along with them.
Using your own infamy against you, I will lay you down at the feet of your father.
I will earn…nay, I will demand…his respect, at your expense.
And then I will take your place, at his side.