Nick Berg is the author of the new book Shadows of Tehran. The book is based on his own life story. He was born in Tehran, moved to the United States, and served in Special Operations, later becoming a tech executive.
Q: Shadows of Tehran has been described as autofiction--how would you define the book?
A: That’s a fair description and one I’ve come to embrace. Shadows of Tehran walks a fine line between autobiography and fiction — it’s rooted in real emotion, real places, and very real memories, but it is shaped through storytelling. I call it an autobiographical novel.
The events in the book are drawn from my lived experience — growing up in Tehran during a time of chaos, navigating betrayal, abuse, and eventually escaping to America and joining the Special Operations.
However, the character of Ricardo gave me the freedom to step slightly outside myself — to process it all and build a narrative arc that could connect with readers beyond just the facts.
Autofiction, to me, means using fiction not to hide the truth but to explore it more deeply. It allowed me to delve into the emotional core of what happened and tell an honest story, even if not always literal.
Q: Did you need to do additional research to write the book?
A: Yes, I absolutely did. Even though much of Shadows of Tehran is based on my own life, memory can be foggy — especially when you're pulling from childhood trauma or high-stress environments like war zones. So, I had to go back and do the work.
I revisited historical records and old news articles and even reached out to people from that time — those who were still around and willing to talk. I needed to ensure the accuracy of the timeline of Iran’s revolution, the details of the Shah’s fall, and the atmosphere in Tehran.
The same applies to the military side — I conducted research into operations and protocols from the era when I served to verify the accuracy of the gear and settings I described. Research helped me ground the story in reality so that even when the book leans into novelistic storytelling, it still rings true.
Q: What impact did it have on you to write Shadows of Tehran?
A: Writing Shadows of Tehran changed me. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to hit as hard as it did. At first, it felt like I was telling a story — putting my past on paper, giving voice to Ricardo. But as the pages piled up, I realized I was finally facing things I’d buried for years.
The betrayal by my father, the violence at home, the guilt and grief of war… all of it came back, and writing forced me to sit with it. There were days I had to walk away from the manuscript because it hit too close. And on other days, when I felt lighter, as if I’d just let go of something heavy I’d been carrying for decades.
The process was painful, but it was also healing. It gave me clarity. It helped me understand why I made the choices I did — why I ran, why I fought, and why I kept certain aspects of myself hidden.
More than anything, it reminded me that survival isn’t the end of the story. Telling it is.
Q: What do you hope readers take away from the book?
A: I hope readers walk away from Shadows of Tehran with a deeper understanding of what it means to survive—and to choose who you become after surviving.
This isn’t just a war story or a tale of rebellion. It’s about identity, about growing up between two worlds — Iranian and American — and trying to make sense of where you belong when you feel like you belong nowhere.
It’s about pain, yes, but also about resilience, about the fight to hold onto your humanity even when the world tries to strip it away.
If someone reads this book and feels less alone in their own struggle, if they see that it’s possible to come from darkness and still find a way to serve something greater, then it’s done its job. Ultimately, I hope it reminds people that the past doesn’t define you — how you face it does.
Q: What are you working on now?
A: Currently, I’m working on a follow-up — a sequel that picks up where Shadows of Tehran left off, but one that builds upon the original. It digs into Ricardo’s life after the uniform comes off. What happens when the missions stop, but the war inside doesn’t?
It’s more introspective, less action-driven, but just as intense in a different way. I’m exploring themes of identity after service, healing from moral injury, and the challenge of building a normal life when you’ve spent years living in extremes.
I’m also toying with a few short stories — fictional, but all rooted in truth. Different characters, different places, but all circling the same question: how do you rebuild a self when the world you knew is gone? This time, it’s a slower, more reflective process. But I’m in it.
Q: Anything else we should know?
A: Yeah, just this: Shadows of Tehran isn’t just my story. It’s a story that belongs to anyone who’s ever lived between two cultures, carried the weight of family secrets, or tried to outrun the past only to find it catching up.
There’s a lot in the book about violence, war, and survival, but underneath all that, it’s really about love — the lack of it, the search for it, and what it means to give it to yourself finally.
And if there’s one thing I’d tell readers: don’t read this just for the action or the politics. Read it for the why. The heart of it is in the quiet moments — the ones where Ricardo is just a kid trying to make sense of a broken world. So, if you see yourself in those cracks — even a little — then this book was written for you.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
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