Okay, guys.  Listen up.  I need a miracle.  Anyone got one you're not using?   Out in the garage, up in the attic, in a shoebox under the bed?

            About thirty seconds ago, in a final death-defying sprint of several thousand words over the last two days, I finished the third draft of PEGASUS.  (I am therefore also blind, deaf, dumb, stupid, and crazy.  Just so you know.)   This ought to be great news. 

            It would have been great news either—say—the end of June, or if it were ...