Custody of Grief: From Author to Novel to Reader

At the end of our workday, a nurse I’ll call Angela sat by me in recovery and whispered, “Could I ask a personal question?” She’d read my medical thriller, Emergence, in which the protagonist is healing from the death of her fiancé, and said, “did that… happen to you?”

I explained it was fiction, and thankfully, I had not experienced such a tragedy. However, I did know much regarding grief and loss. I’ve had three sudden and dramatic losses of loved ones who were young, healthy, and as close to me as siblings. As an author, I’d channeled the pain of losing them into my protagonist’s journey.

“You get it,” Angela said. “You wrote my pain.”

She told me of the unexpected loss of her husband five years earlier. How every day she relives that agony, remembering every moment as if that horrific accident had just occurred. 

“But when I read your book, and you humanized grief and normalized therapy…well, I thought I might be happy again, too.” She keeps my novel at her workstation as a reminder of the protagonist’s journey to healing.

These are moments unexpected and incredibly precious to an author. When I wrote the novel, I didn’t know who would read it or if they would connect with it. I just needed to write. To learn it affected a reader profoundly–giving her permission to grieve, seek therapy, and believe she could heal as well–touched me to my core. 

Novelist Sarah Stewart Taylor eloquently explained this connection an author has to her readers:

 “It’s the act of sitting down every day and sharing what’s in my head, the moments when the words are received and understood that actually feed my soul.”  https://careerauthors.com/the-parts-they-dont-tell-you/

Today, hugging Angela fed my soul.

We never know the pain and burden others are carrying. Be kind. Please share your stories as well; someone needs to hear them.

Stay safe, readers.

With love, Shira