A wooden writing desk with an open notebook, a fountain pen and a small lamp at dusk

Story first, message second

Decide what happens before you decide what it means. Readers can forgive a theological blind spot more easily than a dull chapter. If the plot exists only to deliver a point, readers feel it by the end of the first act.

A useful test: remove the religious vocabulary and see whether the story still holds. If it does, put the vocabulary back where a real character would use it. If it does not, the structure needs work.

Want, need and grace

Most strong stories separate what a character wants from what the character needs. A man wants to be respected and needs to be forgiven. A woman wants to escape her town and needs to stay and face someone. In faith fiction the gap is often spiritual, and grace is whatever finally closes it.

Grace works best when it is unearned and a little surprising. Flannery O'Connor argued in her essays that a writer who believes in grace does not need to announce it; the story can show a character at the end of their rope and leave the rest to the reader.

Doubt, sin and honest endings

Characters who never struggle are boring, and characters whose conversion arrives on page 280 feel like a delivery. Let doubt be real. Let sin have consequences. Let some questions stay open, as many of the great Catholic novels do.

A tidy ending is not a requirement. Readers of faith fiction are often adults who have buried people, lost jobs and prayed without an answer. They notice when an ending is too neat.

Genre and tone

Faith appears in every genre: mysteries with a priest detective, historical novels set around a saint's era, fantasy with a sacramental world, romance between believers, quiet literary fiction about a parish. Choose the genre you love to read, then learn its conventions, because genre readers expect them. A cozy mystery needs a satisfying puzzle whatever its setting.

Tone matters as well. Humor and darkness are both welcome. Some of the most memorable religious fiction is funny, and some is unflinching about cruelty.

Getting feedback

Share chapters with at least three kinds of readers: a writer who knows craft, a reader who shares your faith and one who does not. The first tells you where the pacing sags, the second where the details ring false and the third where the preaching starts. Ask each a single question, such as where did you stop caring, instead of asking if they liked it.

When the draft is ready, read about the next step in how submissions to Catholic publishers usually work, and keep the character guide beside you while you revise.