Like many writing projects, this book quickly fell behind schedule. Although I had long since mapped out the core of its argument, in May 2013, I was hopelessly behind schedule, delayed by other writing commitments and distracted by the quotidian aspects of professorial life. Then, in June 2013, came a remarkable period of productivity. I took a brief vacation to Cape Cod with my wife Nancy and my daughter Clara. I awoke early each morning at 5:00 a.m., while my family slept; I fixed a pot of coffee and would start writing at a furious pace. In the space of seven inspired days, I wrote the crucial first stage of the book (chapter 4) that lays out the nuts and bolts of the philosophical argument upon which the entire project rests. Little did I know that during that week, amidst my bolt of creativity, something in my body was terribly amiss; I was in the process of getting very sick. Back in Ithaca the following week, I put the finishing touches on chapter 4. I was pleased with the result, but I also felt exhausted. I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without becoming so short of breath that I wanted to collapse into bed. On Sunday morning, while fixing my daughter breakfast, I actually did collapse, losing consciousness and falling to the floor. Thankfully, my wife rushed me to the Emergency Room.