Villi Asgeirsson was born in Iceland as Major Tom ascended to the skies, to be lost forever. He spent the seventies learning to read and write. He also moved houses a lot, having lived in at least six places by the time he was ten.
On his tenth birthday, he received a small transistor radio and was scared witless by a huge spider sitting on his chest. This may have formed him in a small way, or it may be irrelevant. Such is the nature of our human existence. There are no absolutes and we may never know what matters until much later, if at all.
The eighties were spent listening to questionable music and dressing badly. He also tried to learn the guitar, but the dang things never stayed in tune so he gave up.
He moved to London in the nineties to study audio engineering. If that guitar thing didn't work for him, at least he could record other people playing. He worked as a live engineer for a while. As impatience would have it, he moved again at the end of the twentieth century, this time to the Netherlands. Supposedly to have a normal life. He still lives there with a wife, child and cat and spends his time working for a major airline, writing and dabbling in photography.
First attempt at writing were stories, written in childhood. He played with poetry as a teen, even if reading poetry is something he still can’t do easily. His first attempt at a novel in 1997 was uninspiring. His second, in 2001, was cut short by world events. It wasn’t very good either. The first successful attempt at novel writing, Under the Black Sand, was published in 2013. People seemed enthusiastic about it so we got Blood and Rain and now Mont Noir.
The author translated Under the Black Sand into Icelandic in 2019 and 2021 saw the publishing of two translations of Blood and Rain, in Portuguese and Italian. Moments, a collection of short stories is in the works.
