The Quiet Grief After Finishing My First Book

I wasn’t prepared for this.

Not the exhaustion. Not the relief. Not even the excitement. But the grief.

I finished writing my debut novel—a gothic, emotionally-charged story that I poured every ounce of myself into—and I thought I would feel elated. Triumphant. Accomplished. And for a moment, I did. But then came a quiet ache I hadn’t anticipated.

I want to talk about it. I needed to. Not for feedback or critique or praise—just to talk about it. To say, “Here’s what I created,” and have someone lean in and say, “Tell me everything.”

But the book isn’t out yet. No one’s read it. At least no one that I care about. And so, the silence wrapped around me like a second skin.

I hadn't realized that book writing is lonely. No one really warns you how isolating it can become—not just during the late nights or the endless revisions, but after. When the story is done and you’re standing there with a full heart and empty hands, waiting for someone to reach back.

What I didn’t expect was how some of the people closest to me—the ones I assumed would cheer the loudest—have gone quiet. It’s a strange, painful realization. Friends who once knew every detail of my life now seem disinterested, absent. Some have turned the page on me entirely. Maybe they didn’t understand the depth of what this meant to me. Or maybe they saw me changing and didn’t know how to come along for the ride. Either way, I’ve had to grieve that too.

But grief is not the end of the story.

Because in the quiet, something new has bloomed. My daughter and I have started working on a new series together. She brings the snacks (always the best ones, by the way), and I bring the words. We sit, we brainstorm, we laugh, and somehow—between the crumbs and the shared creativity—we’re healing.

It’s become our thing. A soft, magical ritual. Where story meets snacks and love fills the silence.

So yes, writing a book can be lonely. But it can also open unexpected doors. And remind you that while some people leave your story, others step in when you least expect it.

To anyone else feeling that quiet grief after finishing your book: I see you. Keep writing. The story isn’t over yet.

—Have you ever felt this kind of grief after creating something? I’d love to hear about your experience in the comments.