Anas was thirty-eight when he met his friend, Scott Reiling, at a soccer game in 2014. They had played against each other a few times before. Scott, a first generation Midwestern Iranian, played good defense. Although Anas was a six-three, smack-talking offensive player on the opposite team, he always respected Scott as an athlete. That day, after the game, they started a conversation that went on for hours. They liked each other so much, the two of them made a lunch date for that weekend. Anas found himself talking about his own life– his childhood, his arrival and first few years in the States– and somehow, he told Scott more than he had ever told anyone. Anas disclosed to him something he always lied to people about– his dad was, in fact, not in oil, and not the manager of XYZ International Company– he was a diplomat. 

Anas still doesn’t know why he opened up to Scott that day. Maybe it was because they were both Middle Eastern, and understood the immigrant experience. But Anas’s instinct never lied– he knew he could trust Scott. 

One day, when they had been friends for a while, Scott said to Anas, “you should really write a book about your life.”

“No way,” said Anas. “I don’t even read.”

For years afterward, Scott pestered him. Finally, Scott had an idea. 

“You should write a book. Then, you could just give a copy to each of your kids.”

Anas was suckered into it. Scott’s sister, Amelia, was a writer herself, and he suggested she take over the project. But everyone was busy, including her, and they never finished the first chapter. 

Amelia called up Anas one day. “We’re going to finish your book,” she said. “I’m going to put out an ad, and hire three people. Many hands will make light work.” 

“Okay,” said Anas. Suddenly, the project was upon him, and three college interns were calling him up for interviews about his life to put in a book. One kid was assigned his childhood, another was to write about his arrival in the States, and the third was given the most recent chapter of his life. These are three strangers, Anas thought, and I’m supposed to tell them all my personal stuff?

The third intern got overwhelmed and fell off the wagon. The first intern finished his part, graduated college, and was never heard from again. The straggler, a young woman named Stella Bellow, was still working on her section, and had taken on the third intern’s part. When Anas finally got around to reading the first intern’s finished section, he realized it was very bad: the guy had even made a bunch of stuff up. Anas called Stella one day, and said, “guess what? You’re rewriting the first part.” 

Meanwhile, Anas and Stella had been hard at work. They facetimed, called, and texted, sometimes every day, so Stella could ask Anas questions, or they could iron out facts. Eight months into the project, which was virtual because of the pandemic, Anas and his wife, Natasha, came to New York to visit Stella in April 2021. Things were still Covid-y there, so they didn’t do much but work on the book, and walk to Washington Square Park. Writing the book continued into the summer, when Stella flew to see Anas and Natasha in Omaha. His mom cooked them all incredible food, and Stella met Scott. The four of them– Anas, Natasha, Stella, and Scott– each collaborated on this project in their own way. Everyone became somewhat emotionally attached to the memoir, and the intimate nature of the process gave way to something of a family. Since then, the four of them have gone ziplining, white water rafting, and driven many miles through the beautiful state of Colorado.