Someone reading this may imagine that writing a book is a glorious event. For me, it's like having a baby (complete with restless nights, soul searching, morning sickness, and birth pangs). I agonize over every word I write, often reliving the pain. The difference, of course, is that once I have given birth to my book, this baby gets no free passes. If my book is an ugly baby, there will be those who will bluntly tell me that without trying to spare my feelings.

My writing is occasionally bombastic. (There, I admit it). However, the truth is the truth whether we shout it or whisper it, or whether we sing it, speak it, or merely live it. A fine meal may include several courses. Sample them all before critiquing the entire meal or closing down the restaurant. I ask you to approach my book on the same basis.

21st-Century Leper will take you on a roller coaster ride of emotional highs and lows. (At least that's the way I feel every time I read my own books.) However, if you stop and isolate one slice at a time, you may run the risk of missing the big picture. I suggest that you read the entire book in as few sittings as possible. But for the sake of those who may read in very short bursts separated by longer periods of nonreading (as daily life may require), I will lay bare my heart here and now on the subject of why I wrote this book in the first place. Here's the big picture, or the entire dining experience, if you happen to prefer that metaphor.