Why I Wrote Widow’s Walk: Grief, Grace, and Starting Over

When I first sat down to write Widow’s Walk, I didn’t know I was writing a novel about grief. I thought I was telling the story of a young woman named Miranda—a newly widowed pastor trying to find her footing in a quirky coastal town in Maine. But as the story unfolded, I realized it was also about something deeper: what happens when life falls apart, and how community, friendship, and a very good dog help us find our way forward.

As a pastor, I’ve walked with many people through seasons of loss. I’ve stood in hospital rooms, at gravesides, and in living rooms heavy with silence. I’ve seen how grief doesn’t always look like we expect, and how love—especially the love of a community—can be the thing that steadies us. That quiet strength, that flicker of grace in the middle of the storm, is what I wanted to explore in this book.

Miranda isn’t just grieving her husband—she’s also wondering who she is now, how to lead a congregation that expects her to keep everything the same, but somehow still lead them into the future, and whether she can still believe in anything at all. But she isn’t alone. She’s surrounded by a cast of small town characters who bring casseroles, tell hard truths, show up when it matters—and one big, shaggy dog named Samson who somehow always knows when she needs company.

The setting—rocky beaches, crashing waves, an old New England church—felt like the perfect backdrop for a story about resilience and belonging. Because in coastal towns, storms come and go. So does grief.

Widow’s Walk is ultimately a story about holding on, starting over, and learning—slowly, imperfectly, and with help—that we don’t have to do it alone.

Jane