The Symbols We Remember Are Usually Ordinary Things

When we think of symbolism in fiction, we often picture grand gestures or hidden clues. But the symbols that stay with us are usually ordinary things.

A worn suitcase that never gets unpacked. A handwritten letter tucked inside a drawer. A painting left unfinished. They aren’t just objects. They become emotional landmarks, carrying memories that grow deeper each time they appear.

That’s one of the reasons I loved writing Finding Sarah. Sarah’s story isn’t remembered because of a single dramatic moment. It’s remembered because of the small things that gather meaning along the way. The phoenix. The paint set. The storm. Each returns at a different point in her journey, revealing not only where she’s been, but how much she’s changed.

Perhaps that’s why the stories that linger with us aren’t always the ones with the biggest twists. They’re the ones where ordinary things begin to mean something extraordinary. Long after we’ve closed the book, those symbols still resonate, reminding us not only of the characters—but of ourselves.

Read more about Finding Sarah: A Phoenix to Behold here: https://ninapurtee.com/finding-sarah/