Yesterday evening I opened the front door and found a padded envelope from my publisher. After tearing it open, I pulled out a hardcover copy of The Joys of Travel, along with a touching letter from my editor.
Holding your new book in your hands is one of the greatest moments in a writer's life. It makes all the work worthwhile and all the rejection insignificant. It never grows old (at least not when you publish a book every 12 years). May this one find many readers.
