Anticipation builds as the hard work falls away to easy expectation – there lies in productivity the labor of our love. It grew inside and overwhelmed us with happiness, sadness, craziness and serenity. It created anxiety and yet we yearned and welcomed its arrival. There are no words to express the satisfaction with which we view the receiving, the delivery, the unveiling until we hold it in our hands, and only then do we feel reality hit. We hold it firmly yet with the caring touch one might apply to an item of such fragility; it is the end product of our submission; it is a child that we bear; it is our very soul exposed to the world; it is a reason for our existence. Writers write and when we are published, the feeling within and of that book is why we do what we do.