“... Wand has never been a husband or a father, and without any ‘first’ — err, I guess ‘second’ is more apropos — hand experience with pregnancy, he imagines that writing a book is similar to human gestation.
   “I, on the contrary, know better. I love my dear wife, and together, we’ve piloted the treacherous waters of pregnancy and childbirth.”
   “You and Mrs. Not-Wand?”
   “Correct. Well, actually, she piloted. I just held our air-sickness bags, offered moral support, and kept an eye on the weather.
    "Without human children of his own, Wand sees his finished stories — the culmination of all his passion and intent — as his offspring, as a chance to leave some part of himself behind after his time on Earth is ended. To him, more stories might mean a larger gene pool, more ‘offspring,’ if you will, more of his essence to survive him. Or maybe Wand’s just a selfish bastard who wants to litter the world with orphans.”