Dealing With Finishing Stories and Losing Fictional Friends

Virtual Mourning

It’s taken four years, but I finally finished the last book in my Quiet Order series a few weeks ago. Book six was a doozy. Trying to close up so many threads and promises I created from the first five books was challenging, but I think I got it done.

This should be momentous, shouldn’t it? Each of the books is unique and has so many moving parts. The plot twists were fun, and I loved my set of characters. My group of unlikelies was always full of surprises. Each of them added color to my stories. They made me laugh and be concerned as they survived some harrowing experiences.

I am considering this last paragraph, and yes, I realize these are fictional folks, made up in my head and put into situations that I concocted. I could have made them behave any way I wanted, but I chose to have them all live by a set of rules as I thrust them into scenarios of peril, love, and adventure. I always looked forward to expanding their stories and making them more in-depth.

So why am I in such a funk?

That is the big question. Why am I feeling emotionally drained? Shouldn’t I be feeling a sense of great accomplishment? This is a momentous task and achievement: to have a six-novel idea and to complete it. Nothing was rushed, and the stories were fun. I enjoyed writing each book, but as I was writing the last page in book six, I could feel this dread creeping up on me.

It’s like I know something menacing is sneaking behind me, but I ignore it and keep forging ahead. Slowly, it makes its way towards me, but I push it out of my mind and press on. I felt it even more as I made my first edit pass on the novel. With each page, I could feel something start to get a grip on me.

Mourning is defined as expressing deep sorrow over a death. I’ve realized that, in some ways, I am mourning the loss of a group of friends. I am no longer exploring how they react when given the right triggers. I am no longer contemplating how a romance will be kindled, or an enemy will be brought to justice. I must put them down now and focus on what is at hand.

I have written two other books, and neither had this effect on me when they were completed. Maybe it was the size of the project. Possibly, because of the Quiet Order’s magnitude, I became more attached to my large cast. Perhaps some of the characters were more relatable. Whatever the reason, I feel like I am dealing with their loss.

I stared at my screen a few days ago and wrote a prologue for my next project. I really liked it, but then I paused. Do I want to invest more emotion in another fictional group of people? Do I want to make up backstories, interests, enemies, seemingly unsurmountable problems, romances, aspirations, inadequacies, failures, betrayals, friendships, and families? Do I want to start over at square one and begin freshly on another emotional rollercoaster? Do I have it in me to mourn more people I’ve grown to love (or even dislike)?

The short answer is yes. I am (almost) ready to roll my sleeves up again and pour more of my heart out in another story. But why would I do that? Why would I create something else that has the potential to put me in another funk?

The answer is pretty simple. I believe these stories share and express things we all feel. We can relate to them in our lives, or they can inspire us to face the actual enemies we see daily. Though these are fictional stories with fabricated lives, they have a purpose. They draw us closer together as we sometimes insert ourselves into their situation and ask, “What would I do in that circumstance?”

I’m calling my condition Virtual Mourning. I feel loss for something that isn’t real but has emotionally gripped me. I’m fine and excited about the prospect of sharing my imaginary world with others, but the thought of not hanging with my friends is a true bummer.

I have a whole new cast of characters who need me to show them the same love and care I put into my Quiet Order friends. Will it be tough? It always is, but I feel like I have a lot to say, and unless I write it, no one else will do it for me.

Will I miss my previous group? For sure, but the good news is there is still plenty of editing to go with those six books. My time isn’t completely done with them. I will get to relive some of the many things I loved so much in writing about them. This time, I won’t have to make as much up either. I can sit back and vicariously enjoy their lives.

This month, I will release Practical Evangelism, a nonfiction book about a trip I took twenty years ago to Israel. On its heels, I will release Crying Wolf, a Science Fiction Psychological Thriller, early next year. I am beginning to open my wings as an author. I love telling these stories and sharing things I’ve kept in my heart for many years.

I am sure other authors have felt similar things. But I’m encouraged by the fact that these stories have impacted me enough that I care about putting them down for others to read. I pray they will also touch you if you choose to pick them up. So if you happen to see me and I look a little sad, don’t worry. Sorrow may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.