When You Realize a Story Is Bigger Than You: What Writing a Novel Taught Me About Story, Faith, and Humility

Please subscribe to my email newsletter for updates on my website and blog. You can do so in the sign-up block at the bottom of this page. Thank you!

When you realize your story is bigger than you…

What happens when a novel becomes larger than its original plot? Many writers begin with outlines and carefully planned stories, only to discover deeper themes emerging during the writing process. In this essay, I reflect on writing What Remains After and what it taught me about story, faith, humility, and the surprising ways both writers and readers discover meaning.

I Thought I Knew What I Was Writing

Most writers begin a story with a clear idea of what they are creating. They know the plot, at least in broad strokes, if not in every detail. They've developed character profiles and may have even made character boards for them on Pinterest or sketched out how the characters look. They understand the central conflict, though it may change as they begin writing. They usually know the ending, though this may change during the writing process.

Originally, my concept of What Remains After was clear to me when I began writing it under the title “Filling the Cracks.” I had planned all these aspects of the story for my blog serial. I thought I was writing a simple story about a girl who faced trauma and suspense and had to heal in the aftermath. And those things were true. But once I decided this would become a novel, it developed into something much larger, because Filling the Cracks was the truth, just not the whole truth. Somewhere along the way, it became larger than the version I originally imagined. It expanded to encompass Beth's healing journey into adulthood and became about far more than suspense and trauma. It became a story of survival, healing, justice, truth, forgiveness, and grace.

The Story I Started Is Not the Story I Finished

Stories almost always begin with a plot, but over time they discover their meaning. At the beginning, a writer may focus on the events that unfold, the conflict that arises, the pacing from beginning to end, and the overall structure. This is fine for a time. But during the process of writing, deeper themes begin to emerge, some intentionally woven into the story, others emerging almost unnoticed.

In What Remains After, the themes that deepened were forgiveness, truth, faith, healing, redemption, and grace. Some themes that surprised me as they emerged emphasized community responsibility for vulnerable members and truth-telling not only for justice but also for healing. I thought I was writing the story, but I soon discovered it was teaching me something. That realization changed how I viewed authorship.

The Surprising Humility of Writing

Writers are often described as creators, and in many ways, that is true. It is a gift and a privilege given to us by the true Creator, God. But at least for humans, creation involves discovery. We do not invent every truth we encounter. Sometimes, during the process, we uncover it.

I uncovered this truth in What Remains After: there are different ways people seek meaning and purpose from their traumatic experiences and try to find healing. Otto and Beth are the prime examples of this. Otto grew up to become an Anglican priest and found hope and purpose in his faith in God. He found healing by experiencing and offering forgiveness. Beth, on the other hand, found her faith wounded and sought understanding and hope through psychology. She struggled more and later discovered that forgiveness might become the key that allowed her to move beyond her past toward healing. This theme of forgiveness as a crux of healing emerged gradually from the story as I wrote it.

I learned from this that writing requires confidence in what you have planned, but also the humility to recognize that, in the pursuit of truth, you may not know it all and still have things to learn along the way. Truth is bigger than me, as is the story that carries it. The story does not entirely belong to the writer.

When Readers See Things You Didn't

Publication changes the relationship between author and story. Before a story is published, it primarily belongs to its writer. After publication, readers bring their own experiences, pasts, traumas, and triumphs into the mix. They may notice different themes or interpret the same themes differently from what the writer intended or understood to be true.

Literary critic Roland Barthes famously argued in his essay The Death of the Author¹ that a story's meaning is not determined solely by its author's intentions. Readers also bring their own experiences, memories, and perspectives to a text, becoming participants in its meaning rather than passive recipients.

I've had early readers of What Remains After see it primarily as a novel about child abuse, systemic failure, and the responsibility of ordinary citizens to stand up for the vulnerable, while others viewed it as a coming-of-age story and a lesson on the healing grace of God through forgiveness. When I look at my novel, I can see truth in both interpretations, but I never anticipated such different responses.

Readers sometimes discover truths in a story that the author never consciously intended. That can be surprising. It can also be deeply humbling. Certain themes become larger than any author's intentions.

The Weight of Writing About Difficult Things

Some themes resist being contained because they deal with realities like trauma, abuse, faith, forgiveness, suffering, and healing. These subjects touch real lives. Readers bring their own memories, wounds, hopes, and fears to the page. Because of this, a writer has a certain responsibility.

I felt that burden while writing Beth's trauma in What Remains After, as well as her struggles with faith after being deeply wounded. I also wanted to show that her healing journey wasn't linear, simple, or complete. It required hard work and grace, and it remained an ongoing process rather than something neatly resolved by the novel's end.

In the process, I learned that stories are more than entertainment. They carry moral and emotional weight that I share with my readers. The story I wrote became larger than me because the themes themselves were larger than me.

That realization echoes a much older truth.

God's Purposes Often Exceed Our Plans

In Isaiah 55:8-9, we read:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord."

Here God reminds us that while human beings make plans, His purposes are greater, wiser, and better than anything we could imagine.

Joseph's life is a powerful example. As the favored son of Jacob, he likely expected to become a leader within his family. Instead, his jealous brothers sold him into slavery. In Egypt, he repeatedly demonstrated wisdom, leadership, and faithfulness, only to be falsely accused and thrown into prison, where he was forgotten for years.

Then everything changed.

Pharaoh called upon Joseph to interpret his dreams, and through Joseph, God preserved entire nations from famine, including the very brothers who had sold him into slavery. Joseph could never have anticipated how his story would unfold, but God's plans were far greater than Joseph's own.

I've seen something similar in my own writing journey.

Looking back, I can see how God gradually planted in me the desire to move beyond writing fanfiction simply for enjoyment. That eventually led to writing original fiction, beginning a blog, creating Filling the Cracks, and finally transforming that serial into What Remains After. When I was still writing fanfiction, I couldn't have imagined where God was leading me. Even now, I don't know what lies ahead, but I look forward to discovering it.

I saw only one chapter at a time. God saw the entire story.

Perhaps writing offers a small glimpse of that reality.

When the Story Starts Shaping the Writer

We often assume writers shape stories, and they do. But sometimes stories shape writers, too.

While writing my stories, I've learned many lessons about the craft of writing, about myself as a writer, and about myself as a human being. My perspective on many things has changed. What Remains After deepened my understanding of trauma, clarified what forgiveness is and isn't, and strengthened my appreciation for resilience and the healing found through faith and the grace of God.

This novel left me different from how it found me.

That may be one of writing's greatest gifts.

Letting Go of Ownership

I thought I knew what I was writing when I started Filling the Cracks, and later What Remains After, but I was only partially right.

The story I had planned grew far larger than the original plot. The themes deepened and expanded in ways I couldn't have anticipated. Readers have found meanings I hadn't fully seen. Eventually, I moved from being the owner of the story to its steward. I was not simply creating a story.

I was caring for one.

The best stories do not belong entirely to their authors. They become places where readers encounter their own truths.

About What Remains After

Many of the lessons explored in this essay emerged while revising my debut novel, What Remains After.

Note: What Remains After is a literary psychological suspense novel set in rural Alberta that explores childhood trauma, faith, survival, truth-telling, and healing across two timelines. The novel is available now on Amazon in Canada and the United States.

Blessings,

Pauline J. Grabia

Stories of Consequence
Fiction that faces the dark, but ends in light.

References

¹ Barthes, Roland. "The Death of the Author." In Image–Music–Text, translated by Stephen Heath, 142-148. New York: Hill and Wang, 1977.

FAQs:

Why do stories often change while you're writing them?

Most writers begin with an outline or central idea, but characters, themes, and relationships often deepen during the writing process. Revision frequently reveals truths that weren't obvious in the first draft.

Can readers find meanings the author didn't intend?

Yes. Readers bring their own experiences, beliefs, and perspectives to a story. While an author may write with a particular purpose, readers often discover additional themes that enrich their understanding of the work.

How did What Remains After change as you wrote it?

What began as a serialized story called Filling the Cracks eventually became a full-length novel exploring not only trauma and suspense but also forgiveness, faith, justice, healing, grace, and resilience.

What does writing teach an author?

Writing teaches patience, humility, empathy, and the willingness to continue learning. Sometimes the greatest lessons aren't found in finishing the story but in allowing the story to shape the writer.

Why do faith and storytelling fit together?

Both invite us to consider questions of truth, purpose, redemption, and hope. For Christian writers, storytelling can become a way of exploring God's work in broken people and a broken world.

Related Posts:

Next
Next

Why Some Characters Refused to Behave: What Fictional Characters Taught Me About Human Nature