This 9th volume (out of ten) of Dr. Siluk's Nonfiction Series "Nowhere into Nothing," of some 151-short stories, reaching back to 1896 to 2016, stories that take place in over thirty-five countries (out of the 56-he's been to), and throughout the United States, a high percentage of these stories were taken out of the mothball room and reedited for publication most recently. Eight or nine stories are in Spanish and English. One Radio play, in "A Changeable Banquet." A few story sketches throughout these ten books, perhaps a few essays and commentaries to boot. The writing, its organization, its originality, its imagery, all bear out the author's era, his travels, the people he has met along the way, characters distasteful, humble, beautiful, vague, drunks, soldiers, women, gang members, children, a paradox of lucid confusion in some cases but a major modern classic when all volumes are put together. This 9th Book, has thirteen short stories, and bears the fruits of those mentioned above, although there are no Spanish versions in it. The ten volume series consist of: "In My Time," "Men among Men," "Time and Seasons," "A Way You Have to Be," "An Unsuspecting Life " "To Want, and Want Not " "Winner and Loser Takes Nothing," "A Changeable Banquet," "Nowhere into Nothing," and "Born is to Remain Always." This is Dr. Siluk's 70th International Book, "Nowhere into Nothing." He is a poet since twelve years old, a writer, Psychologist, Ordained Minister, Decorated Veteran from the Vietnam War, Doctor in Arts and Education. He received twice Honorary Doctorate, and was appointed Poet Laureate in Peru, nine times. One of his books, "The Galilean," took Honorable Mention at the 2016 Paris Book Festival, and received an award from the Congress of Peru, for his cultural writings. He is originally from St. Paul, Minnesota, and lives with his wife Rosa, in Lima, Peru and High up in the Andes, in Huancayo, also, in Minnesota.Photo is of the Author in La Habana, Cuba, at the Hotel Ambos Mundos, 2002, in the very room, sitting in the very chair, at the typewriter, Ernest Hemingway wrote: "For Whom the Bell Tolls," 1939.