02. Introduction by Daniel Brush
It kind of boiled over for me when I was like 8 or 10 years old, because I was obsessed with being the fastest typist in the world. I was really good at it. What was the sentence? “Bring all good men to the aid of your country?” I was up to like 125, 130 words a minute. Impeccable snap to the key and the impression on the paper. And what had dawned on me was, I had absolutely nothing to say, but I was very good at typing. From that minute until now, I type and write with one hand behind my back, because I want to make sure that I at least try to say something, instead of saying something with just—or not saying anything, but just displaying virtuosity and craft.