Ink Tea Stone Leaf

A few weeks ago, I wrote that I was striving to finish my most recent revision of The Ghost of Canard University by January First. I am pleased to announce that, in spite of my heinous executive dysfunction, I have indeed finished this revision—as of last Friday, January Sixteenth, 2026.

That very evening, the revised document was back in the hands of my editor, who is supposed to get back to me about the next phase by next week. Not that I am going to hold their feet to the fire on that, given that I originally estimated that the revision would only take a month or so. I can be a little patient.

I do think the book has improved greatly by this process, though of course it had not been a minute after clicking “send” on that email that I was considering other potential changes. At a certain point, I will have to say that enough is enough, and live with the text as it exists, or will exist once I reach that point. Then I can just try and write a better one after that!

I was reflecting on the story yesterday, and how I would characterize it for people who might wish to assign it to a category, or several categories. In the past I have described Canard University as a science fiction novel, and as a combination of a superhero story and a ghost story. Those descriptions hold true, but particularly in light of the heaviest bit of revision I did, it also must be described as a depression narrative. So to all of you who have been curious to read it some day, I hope that doesn’t put you off too badly!

The truth is, I created three characters who have distinct personalities and priorities, and allowed each one to express through their actions some of the worst feelings I have ever felt about myself. As they reached the end of the narrative I also tried to give them each a sense that another possibility lay before them, that there really are answers to questions they have found it increasingly difficult to live with. They aren’t allowed to know what all those answers are yet, but at the very least they can feel joy again, if they want to.

Another inspiration I had in conceiving the plot of this story came from film noir, particularly movies like The Big Sleep where the hero solves a mystery not through any Holmesian brilliance, but by following a trail through strange events over which they have little control, grasping all the while for insight into what they cannot perceive all at once. I wanted to see what would happen to my protagonists—particularly Sean, the hero—if their antagonist systematically robbed them of any sense that they could influence the course of events, for better or worse, until they manage to rediscover some semblance of self-efficacy. My characters didn’t have a great time with that, but it also did not turn out to be the end of the world.

Is that a spoiler, that despite everything that happens the world doesn’t end? Well, maybe it does for somebody. I hope I haven’t ruined the ending, but above all I say the real pleasure of reading a story is in learning the middle, and not in knowing how everything winds up. Or maybe that is just something I tell myself so I don’t have to feel anxious about my conclusion.