holding out hope
. . . I may, at last, have a title for this book.
I need to think about it. Let it sit in my brain for a bit, think about how its source quote would work for an epigraph, see how it fits with the others in the series. And in the meantime, probably go on searching through other works for possibilities, because I really need to make up my mind before much longer. But it fits all of my requirements, and it would please me to have the title of this last book come from the letters of Ada Lovelace.
Edited to add: Well, I now have the music for the book’s climax running through my head, which might be a good sign. It might just be a sign that the Pavlovian self-training has worked — the end of the book and that song are now inextricably linked in my head; thinking of one brings up the other — but it’s encouraging nonetheless.