Niño

About the Book

Having published my first book in Spanish, The Last of the Incas, satisfactorily, it did not take long to discover that perhaps there is talent hidden in the tips of my fingers. It was the final days of the last month of 2012. One day, I was sitting with my pet in my apartment terrace, waiting for the end of the world that never came. As I sat talking with him, he never answered me. So I decided to use the expression that everybody uses—dogs are smart, they just need to talk. That’s how it all began. In my imagination, I began to talk to him. I pretended to listen to his old and new problems. Months later, after starting to write The Last of the Incas and having no idea what to keep writing on it, I started with the story of my pet. I began to write Niño. My pet was adopted by me after his original owner couldn’t keep up with him. His birth name was Cookie. Months later, I would change it because my treatment of him was like a real child. Many times I wanted to call him Pinocchio. I refrained from using that name and finally settled with Niño. Much of his story is true. Part of his story is fictional. I made a mixture of mischief, using the imagination of a ten-year-old kid sharing with the problems of a man past fifty. So, finally, I finished Niño. I keep sitting on my terrace, watching the people passing by. Someday I will choose a new character for my next book. This book is dedicated to my faithful pet named Niño.

About the Author

I am the fifth in a family of nine brothers and one of the offspring of very humble parents who lived in extreme poverty. I lived half of my life in my hometown of Lima, Peru, but thanks to a twist of fate, I was able to immigrate to the United States. In my younger years, I learned and used the skills of woodworking, but it was always a constant struggle to overcome poverty. I undertook many small businesses, but most of them failed. In my fight against poverty, I always sought out information and became a lover of knowledge. I submerged myself in documentaries and books, and while I was immersed in them, I learned many things. I found out that history is not written as it happened. All the information I had gathered became the story that was born four years ago from my imagination. I was still missing a storyline, and I needed to develop my story characters, but in mid-December of 2012 when my steps took me to a facility filled with a myriad of characters, I thought that I had found them. After deep research and thought, I began to understand my readings more and felt a sense of clearness of what was needed to bring my project to fruition. I started to feel a sense of belonging in this culture and understood their needs. I picked all of them and gave them a position in my imaginary tribe, and it was then that a friend said to me that these people depended on me. I told him that I could see that and believed that I could do something to make them warriors. He asked me what I would name my warriors. I told him, “The Last Incas.” Then I made it clear that I would be the last Inca, and they would be my warriors. And so it was that, on that afternoon in the summer of 2012, with the help of one of my sisters, I started writing this story in the notes of my Apple iPhone. From that day on, I rode the bus and wrote my story as I traveled into the city for work. It took me thirty months, and coincidentally, I finished typing my story on the day that my sister celebrated her birthday, which was December 28, 2014. My sister was the spark that lit me up and encouraged me to write this long history. Thanks to her and to the city bus, I was inspired every morning while traveling from home to the workshop (my place of work). I hope that this work of fiction serves as a tool for all to remember the past and look forward to the future.