In its final stages of development, a classic Microsoft project enters lockdown. No further changes to the software are accepted for that version unless they are recall class bugs. Teams wishing to fix that one last issue must plead their case up the line, providing evidence that the fix is both necessary and won’t jeopardize the stability of the project. No matter how mortifying a late-breaking bug might be, if it doesn’t meet the bar, the stern archons of the Ship Room will punt it until after launch. Knowing a bug is going out to a vast community of users can curdle the joy of releasing exciting new software, but for a project the size of, say, Windows, there’s always someone who wants to make one last fix. If the project is ever going to get out there and work for people, there has to be a cut-off, and it has to be enforced with rigor.
The manuscript for Raether’s Enzyme is in lockdown. Bugs identified by early readers and editing passes have been addressed. Addressed isn’t the same as fixed. In some cases, the responses of early readers conflicted. Fixing one reader’s bug would break another’s feature. Further revision risks removing the polish the proofreader provided. As much as I would like to tinker with text until the Sun balloons into a red giant, the time has come to focus my efforts on connecting the story with a literary agent and a publisher. They will have their own ideas as to what constitutes a recall class bug.