Recently arrived here are the second proofs of Moonshot. Looking them over, I’m like a reformed drinker who just got a whiff of strong whiskey; I want back in. The feeling reminds me of lines which must resonate with anyone who has struggled with a labor of love, specifically with the mixed blessing of finishing it: “God keep me from ever completing anything,” Melville wrote in Moby-Dick. “This whole book is but a draught—nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!”
This is why both bars and publishers have such a thing as last call.
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