As the birth of my personal website approaches final fruition, I feel the need for a formal introduction from myself to you, the reader - a sort of representation of my spirit, opinion, and style to better acquaint you with the whole of my personality in as simple a manner as possible.
I shall begin by telling you a story.
When I was little - less than six but more than four, I remember the first time I took notice of my father's old typewriter. It sat, moldy white corroded plastic presenting no keen recollection in itself - merely a fuzzy blur around which the rest of the memory holds greater shape. The real focus, I remember, were the keys. Each one was static and raised; piled high upon one another in neat rows that somehow betrayed a deep sense of categorical disorder in coincidence, or contrast, with their orderly design.
I reached out, the chubby tips of my fingers pressing into one key at a time, imitating the motions I had seen my father make at some earlier point in my existence. The keys splayed out under the pressure of my touch, and as they depressed one by one, the letters took shape upon the page - a jumbled orchestra, played out by an equally-jumbled child's mind.
"AadHfedfusjadbhfadfaefarfksudhbcfkzjd," I typed.
And it was good.
And I was happy.
Later, I remember doing much the same with an old Macintosh computer my father had neglected. Though no power occupied its circuitry, I remember the great delight that thrilled me on as I pounded at the small keyboard - imagination filling in the lifeless parchment of the screen with words.
And it was good, but not perfect.
And I was happy, still.
It was roughly then that I chose to become a writer - though I did not learn of that choice until much, much later on.
That, however, is a story for a different time.
Public project updates, author information, and the like. For more of Odin's thoughts, follow him on Twitter.