What readers can teach writers
I didn’t consciously intend to make the cottage a symbol or metaphor in my novel. One of the strange gifts of writing fiction: sometimes we build something before we understand what we’re building. We write a sagging porch, a stubborn window, or a slanted kitchen floor into the story, and then an astute reader points out, “You know what this means, right?”
I learned after I wrote the book that the cotttage in Love and Other Incurable Ailments represents Serenity’s story. As Foreword Review notes, “Embracing the unfamiliar drives Serenity’s growth, with the gradual repairs of her sagging cottage symbolizing her own changes.”
Wow.
I love when people see things in our work that we may not have consciously understood while writing it. Writers often discover things in our own stories through the eyes of others.
Like the cottage in the novel, Serenity has a history with cracks, sticking windows, and unfinished rooms. Yet she’s still worthy of care and still worthy of belonging.
The Hidden Architecture of a Novel
When Serenity first arrives at Ida’s Cottage, she’s giddy with anticipation. She has already bought the place unseen, imagining possibilities. Arriving for her first walk-through with the realtor, her excitement grows.
But she finds the tiled linoleum floor in the kitchen slants. The cabinets are worn, the carpet stained, the windows stuck. The insides of her elbows start to itch when she imagines clusters of spider eggs behind the worn, dusty furniture. So much needs attention and work.
But she finds the tiled linoleum floor in the kitchen slants. The cabinets are worn, the carpet stained, the windows stuck. The insides of her elbows start to itch when she imagines clusters of spider eggs behind the worn, dusty furniture. So much needs attention and work.
Isn’t that true of most things we grow to love, such as a home, a relationship, a friend?
Unpacking the symbolism
Ultimately Serenity’s character arc isn’t about being fixed. She learns that she can find a place where she belongs, just as a repaired cottage isn’t a brand-new house, but it belongs because it’s a place with history, quirks, flaws, and a story of its own. We aren’t renovation projects. You could say we’re homes with rooms we’re still learning how to grow into.
The other important detail is that she doesn’t simply arrive, fix everything, and become a different person. Nor does someone else come along and rescue her. Transformation happens through care, patience, and shared work.
I won’t tell you how that happens. Some transformations are better experienced than explained.
But this is one reason I love reading and writing fiction: places often reveal the inner lives of characters. Often we create those connections intentionally.
And looking at the cover now, I realize it shows even more than I thought. The cottage sits inside an opened envelope, as though it’s always been part of the letters that call Serenity to Ocracoke, not the letter writer. She walks toward both the house and the life waiting inside it. I thought the envelope was the metaphor. It turns out the cottage was, too.
Sometimes the story holds more than even the writer understands.
If you’d like to spend time in Ida’s Cottage—and discover what Serenity finds there—Love and Other Incurable Ailments publishes October 27 and is available for preorder now. Links to purchase here.
