Life’s first surprise is life itself.
A Family Verdict
My wife and daughter were relentless today, as they often are.
According to them, three months have already passed since I built my new publishing website, and I still have not sold a damn thing.
Three years have gone by since my literary production began.
Nine hundred and sixteen books now exist in one hundred and eight languages.
Yet not a single euro has entered the house.
Their conclusion is simple: I am wasting precious time.
Life would be far more useful if I focused on growing vegetables in the garden below our home.
At least then, they say, I would contribute something practical to the family.
With that verdict still in my ears, I step out onto the landing.
The Neighbor’s Gift
There I meet Mr. Pino Valle, my neighbor.
He stops me on the stairs and says he wants to give me a gift before he dies.
At eighty-five years old, he sees his age as a threshold boundary rather than a new beginning.
He invites me into his home.
Inside his small study, he turns on the computer and opens the internet.
“You know,” he says, “I found an American website online.
There’s a man there who writes like a god.
He has an enormous number of books—things that can truly make you smile.
You might even find some comfort there during your better moments.”
His wife steps closer and confirms what her husband says.
She explains that she has read several texts and discovered something genuine in them—words where a person can see themselves reflected.
The Discovery
Curious, I watch them navigate the screen.
Neither of them has the slightest idea what I do.
To them, I am simply a young retiree with a determined wife and daughter.
Finding the page is not easy at first.
So, Pino calls his daughter and asks for the exact name of the website.
He types it carefully.
The page opens.
I remain still and silent.
The screen now shows naples-post.com.
They begin explaining the site to me, as if they were my personal guides.
Meanwhile, I listen quietly, revealing nothing.
His wife says she has read every blog post and even the free dossier.
For her, that was enough to understand the author and recognize his value.
Then she adds one last remark:
“You know, he calls himself the Calabrian Scribe.
Actually, the last scribe of the Calabrian’s.
I would really like to meet him.”
The First Two Readers
For a moment, I simply breathe.
Their opinion is genuine.
Nothing in their words feels constructed or rehearsed.
I thank them politely for their time and leave without saying anything.
Slowly, I walk down the stairs.
At last, I have met my first two readers.
They live on the same landing.
My neighbors.
Now only one thing remains: letting the other eight billion people on Earth know.
Then the mission will be complete.
Long live America.
Nando
