The Wheel: Afterword

And Acknowledgments

Haven’t finished? Make sure you do: The Wheel: Part 16, These Dreams

The following Afterword will include spoilers. I’d advise saving this until you have finished “The Wheel.”

Haven’t started? There’s nothing stopping you from bingeing it, start to finish: The Wheel: Part 1, Jack Colby

Voiceover narration: Andrew Thomas

Art: Jenelle Thomas https://alovelygiraffe.com

Four years ago tomorrow, I started writing a novel on a whim. I eventually shelved it—I was way over my head—but I was not about to shelve writing. On day one, I had learned it was my true passion, but I also quickly realized that I needed to ease into the thing, and a space-faring epic novel was not the way to do so. "Write what you know," the advice goes.

Just under three years ago, I started writing what I knew: Traverse City, the Cherry Festival, the Upper Peninsula, being a husband and father to young boys, loss, trauma, PTSD, and, yes, an intermittent fear of and fascination with Bigfoot, Sasquatch.

In many ways (all the wrong ones and most of the right ones), Jack Colby is me. The journey he went on over roughly a month of his life isn't all that different from the one I experienced over some years. His was shorter, for necessary reasons, but no less real, I hope. After a period of immense loss, I remember thinking it only made sense that one of my kids would die next, and I assumed I would go a hell of a lot more insane than Jack did within these (digital) pages. While I never had the seeming moment of revelation that Jack had at the end there, eventually my own premonitions did pass, and life went back to "normal."

Sometimes I wonder how Jack’s life is going. After all, his circumstances were decidedly worse than mine, and a euphoric revelation in the woods would likely be quick to fade amongst the overpowering memories that most certainly arrived when he returned home, if not before. Does he still have nightmares and worry about Justin while at work? Does he still wear his wedding band? Is he dating or simply thinking about it in the dark watches of the night? What do his evenings with Justin look like? And how is Justin, for that matter? Is he in counseling? Jack too? What’s up with Thad? Marcia? All the friends and family who got little to no mention?

I think we all know, in one way or another.

We might get definitive answers to at least a few of these questions one day. Ned Cordy, the man on the Bigfoot poster in the store in Shingleton, exists, if only in my novel Rue. He didn't use to. His name was Thad Fred Goodman in the original draft of The Wheel, but after my friend Aaron read it and said, "I want to read more about that guy," I realized, IT'S THE SAME DUDE FROM MY NOVEL, and changed his name to Cordy to match. (And stole his original name for Jack’s newly added father-in-law.) I won't tell you why—that would be a spoiler—but I do have an idea for how Ned might star in his own story, and I cross my fingers that I have the opportunity to write it someday.

That brings me to the acknowledgments.

Thanks to my wife, Jenelle, for the amazing, detailed art. alovelygiraffe.com

I'd like to start by thanking Ken Foster, our KK, for reading "The Wheel," and re-reading it, and re-reading it again. He's the first to ask to read my writing and the first to actually do so. (I promise you can read "Gull Island" as soon as I have time to do so.) He's the first to give me feedback and was always the first to respond to those early Substack posts when I was still just a boy in the world, trying to figure out what I was hoping to do here. Thanks to my mom, Sharon Foster, for reading the early draft, “liking” every post while reading it again here, and putting up with Jack's sometimes potty mouth, and by extension, my own. Thanks to my amazing wife, Jenelle, for making this "published" version of the story feel so beautiful and legitimate with her masterful linocut art. (I also dedicated this story to her for reasons I discussed HERE.) Without my sons, Clyde and Archie, I would never have written Justin. I love them immensely, even if they still start every sentence with “Hey Dad?” Thanks to Aaron Howard for crying at the ending—if this story ever had a goal, it was to make Aaron cry, and the moment that I got the unsolicited text saying that he did, I considered it a success.

Speaking of the ending, thanks to Bree Pedersen for helping me realize what it could be. You're never going to believe this, but the first draft ended with Jack's horrible dream by the lake, but it wasn't a dream. In one reality (thankfully only one), Justin did die unceremoniously due to a head wound in the woods. It felt awful and pointless when I read it two months after writing it, and I think we can both agree that the story benefited hugely from her suggestion that "maybe that's just a daydream?" That’s when I realized what this story was all about: Jack’s journey.

Thanks also to Nate VerBurg and David Lawson for reading not only this but everything else I've written (sometimes twice) and for being so invested in helping me succeed. Kayla VerBurg, Rachel Spinniken (my sister), and John Ransom also read this and offered feedback and support, well before I ever considered posting it. Lastly, even if it’s corny, I would be remiss to not thank Stephen King (there he is again) for showing me that I could do this, and do it my own way.

Gosh, I sure hope I'm not forgetting someone, but if I am, I'm truly sorry. I've learned a lot over the last several years of writing, and one of those things is to keep a current log of everyone who helped me along the way.

To all of you who read it on Substack for the first time, thank you thank you thank you. I worried about this one, to be honest. Was it too dark? Too boring? Too long, too short? Was it an exercise in flagellating my audience over and over to see how much sadness they could take? Much less likely: was I throwing away a good story by posting it online and removing any chance for it to be traditionally published?

That last one, at least, I can answer. The last month and a half has been a wonderful experience, and I wouldn’t undo it. Your comments and shares have meant the world. Getting this fucking thing done and off my brain once and for all (har har, yeah right) was a gift. I can finally say that "The Wheel" is finished and move on to other projects. Like Jack, The Wheel is now behind me, but what’s ahead?

First, something is going on down near the Lake of the Ozarks. People have gone missing, and I think Ned Cordy might be onto it. I'd better take another look at the situation.

Second, but probably of more immediate note for you, there's a big, blue water tower to my left...and I could swear I heard a voice inside...

-Andrew

August 20th, 2025

“The Wheel” was a labor of love, written over many hours for the last three years. Want to support my continued writing journey? Consider upgrading to a paid subscription, even if for a short time, or simply click the Tip Jar button below and toss in a few bucks. It’ll buy me a beer for my next writing sesh at Earthen Ales.

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