Lessons Between The Lines: How Storytelling and Teaching Intertwine
By Sarah E. Burr
When I look at the many hats I wear—author, designer, content creator, and self-proclaimed cozy enthusiast—there’s one thread that connects them all: I love teaching people new things. Whether it’s showing a fellow author how to create a professional-looking book graphic in Canva or helping readers learn something unexpected through my characters, I find joy in sharing knowledge that can make someone’s life easier or brighter.
Teaching, to me, isn’t about formality or lecture halls. It’s about empowerment. It’s that spark of recognition in someone’s eyes when they realize they can do the thing they thought was out of reach. Over the years, I’ve discovered that spark is at the heart of everything I create. It’s present in my Canva tutorials, my stories, and every mystery I craft. In one way or another, my work constantly circles back to helping others see what they’re capable of.
When I first started using Canva, I wasn’t setting out to be an instructor. Like most indie authors, I was trying to figure out how to promote my books without draining my budget. I remember clicking through templates, changing colors, and layering fonts until something finally looked right. It was liberating. I didn’t need to be a professional designer to make my stories look professional. And once I realized how easy and fun it could be, I couldn’t wait to share that discovery.
Before long, I was recording quick videos for other authors—little guides to help them create book banners, social media posts, or newsletter graphics that reflected their unique voices. What I love about Canva is that it strips away intimidation. You don’t have to know every design rule to make something beautiful. You just need a nudge in the right direction and the freedom to experiment. Watching someone go from uncertain to confident, from “I can’t do this” to “look what I made,” is an incredible feeling.
But teaching doesn’t stop at tutorials for me. It seeps into my fiction, often in ways I don’t notice until after the book is finished. Every one of my cozy mystery series carries a quiet lesson between the lines, sometimes a practical one, sometimes a moral or emotional truth.
In my Trending Topic Mysteries, influencer Coco Cline highlights the double-edged nature of social media. Through her adventures in Central Shores, readers see how powerful online platforms can be for connection and creativity, but also how dangerous they can become when privacy is ignored. Coco’s stories are filled with laughter, romance, and the occasional murder, but beneath it all, they gently remind readers to think twice before posting, to value boundaries, and to protect their digital identities. It’s a modern lesson wrapped in small-town charm and sleuthing fun.
My Book Blogger Mysteries carry a different kind of education, one rooted in literary passion. Winnie Lark, my protagonist, is a devoted reviewer whose fictional blog, What Spine Is Yours, celebrates the written word. Through Winnie, I get to introduce readers to books they might never have discovered otherwise. She’s constantly shining a light on hidden gems, encouraging others to read, review, and share stories they love. In doing so, she embodies a lesson about community and generosity: that sharing our enthusiasm for art enriches everyone.
Then there’s Hazel Wickbury, the kindhearted candle maker from my Glenmyre Whim Mysteries. Hazel’s lessons are more tactile, drawn from her work crafting light out of wax. Through her, readers learn about candle making—the care that goes into scents, wicks, and colors—but they also learn about love, responsibility, and connection. Hazel’s magical “whims” (gifts that allow her family to sense others’ emotions) mirror the empathy we build when we genuinely listen to one another. She teaches, without ever meaning to, that our talents are meant to serve our communities and protect the people we cherish.
Each of these women—Coco, Winnie, and Hazel—reflects a piece of my own belief that storytelling and teaching are inseparable. Fiction, after all, has always been one of humanity’s greatest classrooms. Long before modern education systems, we learned through tales; stories that taught us to be brave, to be kind, to be cautious, to dream. That tradition continues every time someone opens a novel. Readers might come for the mystery, but they leave with new knowledge, perspective, or empathy.
I often think about how similar teaching and storytelling truly are. Both start with curiosity. Both ask questions and search for meaning. Both invite others to see the world in a new way. When I teach Canva, I’m not just explaining design; I’m helping people tell their stories visually. When I write, I’m not just spinning a mystery; I’m showing readers something about life, about resilience, about finding light when the world feels uncertain.
I’ve also learned that teaching fuels creativity. When I help someone else solve a problem, I inevitably learn something new myself. Each question an author asks about color schemes or branding pushes me to look at design with fresh eyes. Each time I explore a character’s unique talent, whether it’s blogging, candle making, or navigating viral fame, I end up researching new topics, expanding my own understanding of the world. The cycle of teaching and learning keeps me inspired.
And perhaps that’s what I love most about blending the two. There’s a rhythm to it, a give-and-take that feels deeply human. When I share a Canva tip, I get to witness someone’s creativity bloom. When a reader tells me that Coco’s cautionary tales about oversharing online made them rethink their digital habits, I see how fiction can make an impact beyond entertainment. When someone lights a candle and tells me Hazel inspired them to try making one, I’m reminded that stories can spark real-world hobbies and connections.
The older I get, the more I believe that curiosity is one of the greatest gifts we can cultivate. Teaching, at its heart, keeps curiosity alive. Writing does, too. Both require openness and the willingness to keep learning, to make mistakes, to start over, to wonder “what if.” Whether I’m writing a whodunit or creating a tutorial, that sense of wonder is what keeps me excited to sit down at my desk each morning.
And I’ve come to realize that the best lessons often happen quietly. They’re not always announced with a title or a how-to guide. Sometimes, they unfold in a story about friendship and trust. Sometimes, they’re found in a creative breakthrough that makes someone’s workday easier. Sometimes, they flicker in the soft glow of a candle made by hand.
When people think of cozy mysteries, they often picture quaint towns, clever sleuths, and the comfort of justice served. But cozies also teach us about the world in gentle ways. They show us that ordinary people can do extraordinary things, that community matters, and that curiosity can lead to truth. For me, that blend of warmth and wisdom is what makes the genre so special.
At the same time, my love for Canva and creative education comes from that same cozy spirit. Helping authors design their own marketing materials is, in its own way, about empowerment and storytelling. A well-crafted book graphic isn’t just an ad, it’s an invitation. It tells readers, “Come join me in this world I’ve created.” When an author realizes they can build that invitation themselves, that they can take ownership of their brand and presentation, it’s a transformative moment.
That’s what keeps me coming back to teaching in all its forms. Whether through fiction or design, I want people to feel confident in expressing themselves. I want them to know that creativity isn’t limited to the professionals or the naturally gifted. It belongs to anyone who is willing to try, to learn, to play.
I’ve always believed that light is one of the best metaphors for learning. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to Hazel’s candles in the first place. Teaching, to me, is about lighting the way for someone else. It doesn’t mean you have all the answers; it means you’re willing to share what you’ve discovered so others can see their own path a little more clearly.
That’s what Coco does when she learns to balance authenticity with privacy. That’s what Winnie does when she champions new authors and hidden gems. That’s what Hazel does when she keeps her family’s legacy alive through flame and faith. And that’s what I hope to do every time I share a tip, write a story, or connect with a reader.
Storytelling and teaching are, at their core, acts of generosity. Both are about giving—our time, our insight, our imagination—to help someone else feel capable, comforted, or inspired. The mystery may draw readers in, but the lessons between the lines are what stay with them long after the final chapter.
If I can make someone’s day a little easier with a Canva trick, or their heart a little warmer through a cozy mystery, then I know I’ve done something worthwhile. Because when we teach through our art, we do more than share information. We build connections. We light candles in the dark. We help each other find answers and fulfillment. And in doing so, we remind one another that learning, like storytelling, is its own kind of magic. One that makes the world glow just a little bit brighter.
Sarah E. Burr is the award-winning author of the Glenmyre Whim Mysteries, Trending Topic Mysteries, Book Blogger Mysteries, and Court of Mystery series. She co-hosts It’s Bookish Time TV, a cozy web channel featuring live author chats. When she’s not crafting twisty whodunits, Sarah can be found reading mysteries and manga, playing video games, or strolling around with her adorable rescue pups, Eevee and Itto. Want to stay connected and snag free short stories? Join her newsletter here: https://saraheburrbooks.substack.com/subscribe.
