You often hear writing advice that stipulates that you need conflict everywhere in a book. Writing gurus say you need it on every page, from start to finish, in every scene, nay, in every passage of dialogue, nay, in every word, nay, in every letter.
Pshaw, says I. Pshaw.
Sometimes a character just needs to stare at the ice floes and contemplate the meaning of life and other great imponderables, like how people serving coffee are called baristas and people serving alcohol are called bartenders, but what do you call them when they serve both coffee and alcohol? (I’ll give you a moment.)
Great novels have stretches where there’s not a hint of conflict and things are serene and beautifully written, and I’ll never urge a writer to rip these out to introduce a gun battle.
But make no mistake: conflict is essential. It’s a book’s oxygen. It gives it life.
UPDATED 5/16/19
Why you need conflict
In fact, let us count the ways that this conflict/oxygen metaphor is apropos:
- Your book needs conflict to survive. It doesn’t need it constantly, but a book without conflict is pretty much DOA. It’s not really a novel without conflict. It’s just some paper with words printed on it.
- If any stretch of your book goes too long without conflict, your reader will die of boredom.
- You can use a lot of conflict to create a bright flame of a book that is relentless and charged, or you can create a slow burn that is more muted but intense nonetheless. You can vary the degree of conflict within the same book to do the same thing.
With regard to this last point, some might say that thrillers and other genre novels tend to put a lot of conflict on the page, and the conflict comes fast and intense, whereas literary fiction tends to have less conflict.
As a very rough and general rule this may be so, but it’s not always the case. When you look at Ian McEwan’s books, especially Enduring Love, nearly every exchange and moment on the page is intensely filled with conflict. The characters are constantly in conflict with each other and with themselves, and it’s a very intense reading experience as a result.
And there are plenty of suspense novels where things build slowly and steadily and where the quiet moments contribute to the sense of dread.
The two types of conflict
There are two main types of conflict in a novel:
- There’s conflict that happens on the surface, demonstrated through the actions and thoughts of the characters.
- There’s conflict beneath the surface, which is implied and unsaid.
For instance, a gun battle or a hysterical argument happens on the surface, but a character who is freethinking in a 1984-style world, where thinking freely is highly hazardous to one’s personal safety, has conflict beneath the surface. Even when Winston Smith is not trying to avoid Big Brother, there is an implied conflict between his life and the rest of that world.
It is highly desirable to have both types of conflict present and accounted for.
Is there conflict that is acted out on the page? Is the protagonist somehow pitted against the world they inhabit, whether it’s a government, an office, or an entire society? Is there conflict between characters, which is expressed through actions and words, as well as hidden desires and thoughts that go unspoken? Does the character have competing interior desires and thus live in conflict with themselves?
(The correct answer to all these questions is “yes.”)
Keep up the conflict
It can sometimes feel a little icky to always be hitting the conflict button, but unless you are intentionally and specifically choosing to have a quiet moment, you should always look for ways to introduce some degree of conflict.
Why? Because a character totally at peace with their surroundings and the people they’re interacting with is completely boring. Sure, give them a quiet moment from time to time, but this moment should be a respite from conflict, or should set up a future conflict, rather than being a gaping void of conflict.
The best way to introduce conflict is to place obstacles in the way of your characters. Conflict happens when a character tries to surmount an obstacle (for instance, a character negotiating with a cop who has stopped and delayed them or an alcoholic trying to say no to a drink) or when two characters have conflicting motivations that create an obstacle (one character wants to break up and the other wants to stay together). Conflict is all about how characters try to overcome obstacles in order to get what they want.
Conflict and pacing
Conflict also impacts the flow of a novel. Much like music, novels have a rhythm. Once you hit the middle stretch of writing a novel, it can sometimes become difficult to keep the beat.
Whether they realize it or not, readers expect things to unfold at a certain speed. In the beginning of a novel, things can unfold slowly or quickly, but a basic rhythm is established at the outset. The reader internalizes this and sets their expectations based on how things unfold in the first fifty pages, with the expectation that the speed will gradually ramp up as you head for the end.
If you’re ever thinking to yourself, “Man, this is getting slow” or “Where is all this stuff coming from?” it probably means the author has lost the pace they had previously established.
If there is a very slow stretch in a novel, it’s often because there’s no conflict: things are just happening, the author is indulging in exposition that’s not woven into the plot, or events are transpiring that are unrelated to the big unanswered question that had been driving the action. When this happens, the reader isn’t sure why they should care.
If there are places where things feel like they’re starting to wander, think about how you can introduce conflict or tie things back to the main plot arcs. Or, if you’re too relentless with the action and you’re worried you’re exhausting the reader, find a way to have a quieter scene that fills an important role in the narrative but doesn’t represent all-out conflict.
Conflict is everything
Ultimately, conflict is the reason we read novels. It forces characters to make decisions. It tests their strengths and weaknesses. It reveals how they think, how they react to pressure, and what makes them tick. Readers want to see whether the conflicts will be resolved and how the conflicts will be resolved, and they want to see who gets what they want, who wins, and how they win.
Remember, a man contentedly walking down the street is not a story. It only becomes a story when he is captured by space monkeys that force him to slap himself in the face over and over and say “I’m hitting myself.”
Now that is conflict.
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Art: Sea fight by Niels Simonsen
Doesn’t everyone root for Duke?
Donald Maass is an excellent teacher on this subject. This is another fantastic topic.
bryan-
Everyone who is an imp and/or demon.
Really? I thought the Overlords commanded it. Cameron Crazies Ordinance No. 417, stating “All Shall Love Duke and Despair…”
on #2 – what about the opposite? Do you think a writer can overdo it by having a stretch of too much conflict?
(hates Duke. sorry.)
Great. Now I have to go through and erase my March Madness space monkeys thread, because everyone will assume I stole it from you. Thanks a lot, Nate.
Space squid…it has potential…
7-iron-
Yeah, too much conflict can exhaust the reader and it becomes difficult to separate the highs from the lows when there’s no place to catch one’s breath.
I know some people who don’t like ENDURING LOVE for this reason. It’s just extremely intense to the point of relentlessness.
yes, my question too:
I am in the finale of a novel and have to build the tension up to support the grand completion
AND
I am not sure whether I should add in a whole new conflict at this point to support that
or build up an existing one.
Any thoughts?
Demon, hehe! You can't even really get in trouble for that one, can you?
Regarding conflict: I feel like literary writers fall into this trap more often than commercial writers, because they (we?) are seduced by the loveliness of the words and the mood and the voice… and all that jazz.
So I've had to work at amping up the conflict, which I think directly relates to enhancing the plot. Like you said, introducing conflict to a scene can really drive it forward, turning a situation into a story, an event into a plot.
For me it really helped to think of my story's outline, not just as a list of "what happens," but specifically as a chain of cause & effect: A happens, which leads to B, which leads to C, etc…
And if X doesn't cause Y, then X better be a DANG good/important scene for some other reason, 'cause otherwise it's dragging down my story.
Bullshit, Bransford.
What the hell would you know about writing? Big man, sitting large in your office – downtown San Francisco, uptown attitude.
You think you can turn at random to page 201 in some part-time novelist hack’s worthless writing manual and quote at free-will?
Next time I’m sweeping by Montgomery Street you better hope you’re out ‘doing lunch’ somewhere else with the safe literary crowd.
I’m joking, of course. Just trying to create a bit of conflict for the readers!
Love your stuff, champ!
chris bates-
You totally had me. In retribution I’m sending one of my crazy anons after you to teach you the true meaning of conflict.
More good stuff – and, yes, when I grew up Hell was also known as Tobacco Road. Of course, I also grew up a UCLA fan, but have them going down in rd 1. So much for loyalty 🙂
Nathan, self-doubt often begets conflict! 🙂
On a serious note, I sometimes shy away from the term “conflict”, because people so often take it too literally, too graphically, envisioning fistfights and gun battles and missing the subtler forms of conflict. I think “tension” is a good word because it seems to encompass a wider array of possibilities. Of course, I could simply be, in the immortal words of Clive Owen, “whistling Dixie out of my ass.”
Blogger Challenge: Name that film!
My best, as always,
Bryan Russell
P.S. Sorry for the scatalogical humour. I don’t even like scatalogical humour. A writer’s compulsion towards certain words is a strange, strange thing.
bryan-
Yeah, that’s a good point, tension is a good way of thinking of it, especially when it’s not happening through action.
Exactly what do you mean by crazy anon 🙁
You’re trying to start conflict aren’t you! JK;)
To pull a quote out of some part-time novelist hack’s worthless writing manual, conflict is the glue that holds your story together.
My problem is I let my characters think about things too much. Gotta keep it to short doses and get back to some sort of action. Inner conflict is great, but no one wants to read about it for more than a few paragraphs at a time – if that much. Get it out of their heads and into some sort of movement in the story.
This is a really good article.
Although, I prefer stories that are boring and completely free of conflict.
Like where I ask Nathan for a signing contract, and he sends me one.
No conflict, but a beautiful ending.
I think we are all naturally drawn to conflict. It may not be the essence of story-telling but it sure is an attractant. Take note of how often we all surf the net latching onto forum/comment boards. We may read all the comments but we home in on those comments that push and pull, jibe or joust with each other. The beats of each comment may keep changing but we follow the tension with interest.
Humans love a tussle.
It’s why we gather around a school-yard fight, but couldn’t give a damn about a geography lesson.
I can’t imagine anything worse than routing for Duke (my siblings are all Chapel Hill grads so they made me pick UNC in Nathan’s NCAA contest).
As far as conflict, I also think the pace of the conflict depends on the age group for which you are writing (in addition to genre). My novel is for middle grade readers and the conflict comes fast and furious, whereas I think you can stretch it out a bit for adults (who presumably have longer attention spans). Good post! 🙂
How can I tell whether my protagonist is experiencing conflict or just a hassle?
Go Heels!
That is all.
good blog, Nathan.
Sorry – Freudian slip. Should have been “rooting” for Duke – but I hope they get routed!
I stumbled across Jack Bickham’s work Scene and Structure not long ago … the two of youse are in agreement.
His point was that a character goes into a scene with a goal, somehow gets his ass kicked, then has to recover and come up with a slightly different goal (this is his sequel), then it’s onto the next scene, where boot comes toward ass yet again …
So as Nathan and Kristan noted, it’s all about conflict.
Case in point, I am currently in conflict with all my sentences that have gone awry. Time to kick ass and red-pen.
Not much to add this time around, as I pretty much agree with everything said, other than the Duke part of course. I’ll root for any team 12th seed or lower.
On a little different note of conflict, and a big dose of humility, I offer this (becomes the subject fascinates me).
https://photojournal.jpl.nasa.gov/jpeg/PIA11828.jpg
Not this doesn’t give enough sense of ‘place’ in the universe, but if you zoom in and look at the fields of stars, you’ll notice that half of them aren’t even stars at all but other galaxies millions of light years further away. So that little picture you are seeing, actually contains billions upon billions of stars.
Sometimes the reason dialogue falls flat is because it lacks conflict. It might characterize, it might be witty, it might even advance the plot (a teeny bit…too much and you’ve got the most egregious exposition), but if it doesn’t have any conflict, it’s going to sink fast. In agreement with Nathan’s post today and yesterday: Conflict means Someone wants Something. And something or someone stands in the way of his/her getting it. The force of opposition should be equal and meaningful (v. unequal and trivial). Complex conflict is also good (versus conflict that seems coincidental or too familiar or stupidly, frustratingly complicated).
Easy to say, hard to do!
Nathan –
Looked forward to your post today, and was not disappointed. Fascinating topic!
I love pacing and balancing all the various elements of fiction when writing novels or short stories. Conflict is important, moving the character from Point A to Point B to however many points of conflict within the overall plot, making sure there’s an extreme low point for the character at which point all seems lost to them, and then having them somehow solve the problem and come through the other side, the character transformed as a result. As in real life, we tire from constant conflict. I also love writing about my characters slowing down, smelling the roses or bandaging their wounds, pouring a stiff drink or sweetly flavored coffee … then, damn!, there’s another conflict. I try to think of it as life in literary form. Our lives are never stagnant.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy is such a wonderful example of how to accomplish this. In the midst of one conflict after another, the man also took time out to just spend time with his young son.
My services are for hire. All I require as payment is a piece of Tiramisu from Ariolo’s on Fisherman’s wharf.
This was a good reminder for me. Actually, all your posts have been the past week+ so many thanks.
I think the temptation after reading this post is to say, “Yeah, well my book’s not a thriller.”
Doesn’t have to be a thriller to have tension/conflict. Every page of Bridget Jones has conflict.
Oh, and Julie’s right about the Maass thing.
One thing I struggled with is tying in motives for the actions that drive conflict, but to do it without interrupting the narrative flow.
But I know this now, and the revisions are coming along great.
WORD VERIFICATION: split. What I have to do, because I need to take my son to the dentist.
This is why I always like to do an in-depth, chapter by chapter, outline before I begin a book. You can insert the basic conflict in the outline without making yourself crazy, and then while you’re writing the book you can add and enhance as you go.
Hey Nathan –
The Sacto Kings are losers!
How’s that for conflict? 🙂
J/K – having lived in that part of NorCal, I would be fibbing if I said that I’ve never donned a purple shirt while wading through the violet masses at Arco.
So, my question is, when you come to the end of the roller coaster of conflict and approach the platform of the final pages, how do you avoid chucking the reader off the ride without stopping dead in your tracks?
I don’t want my resolution to be an info dump, and I feel like my wrap up is…boring. (My epilogue, however, is fabulous.)
That’s my conflict!
Thanks, Nathan. This was a very timely post for me. I recently went to a workshop where Donald Maass talked about the importance of tension/conflict. Since then, I’ve been having an ongoing discussion with some of my fellow workshop attendees…should we have conflict on every page…should we ever give our characters a break? I’m going to forward this blog to them.
One of the things I like about writers that use conflict well is that they vary the quantity and location of the conflict they use. I’ve read plenty of writers who have conflict/resolution in every single chapter, and that drives me crazy. Or there’s a chapter of conflict followed by a restful chapter, followed by conflict, et cetera, until I want to puke. Use conflict, but use it wisely, please.
Connie Willis (I’m pretty sure) called all that connecting from Point A to Point B “walking down hallways.” Now that I have a concrete visual for that process I can tell more quickly when my writing is devolving into too much “walking down hallways.”
Heads up, Nathan. Next week I’m going to query you for my staggeringly beautiful and hauntingly lyrical novel about the Ninja Space Monkeys who are really Kaiser Soze. (I wish, because that would be genius!)
I second Myra’s question. I usually have the opposite problem from her, though, where everything just….ends. “…So Loralie decided to wear the purple socks. The End.” What about that?
Jesse Lee Kercheval’s textbook Building Fiction has a discussion about internal and external conflict that was helpful in a very practical way for me when I was starting on my rewrite. It helped me look at each episode from the perspective of what it did to complicate or heighten the conflicts.
I like the conflict to feel fresh as I read on in a novel, not ruminated to the bitter end. I read somewhere that developing arcs, in at least three or four equal points in your novel can help.
I thought when I was writing my current (and first) fantasy novel that maintaining conflict would be a problem. It’s not. In fact, the only problem I’m having is deciding which conflicts to include and which to leave out as the plot gets more complicated. This surprises the heck out of me, because I’ve always considered myself one of those dreamy, literary types previously mentioned.
My point? Get to know your characters, and the conflict follows naturally from what they think, say and do. It’s the best lesson I’ve learned from this, my first adventure.
Conflict is a part of real life, since we all have our own wants,needs, and experiences. Conflict provides the setting for change to occur. I prefer introspective conflict in small scenes to balance the physical and direct conflict in longer scenes. The small conflict supports and hints at the large conflict, affecting it in various ways.
Conflict is basic, and how our characters deal with conflict reveals certain character traits. Whether the character is the instigator or the recipient of conflict can affect which action is taken.
BTW – I think it’s great that you select these writing topics to post, and I for one don’t mind hearing your take on what you, as an agent, think about a certain element of the novel. A little insight for how an agent’s mind evaluates quality.
Myra wrote:
So, my question is, when you come to the end of the roller coaster of conflict and approach the platform of the final pages, how do you avoid chucking the reader off the ride without stopping dead in your tracks?
I hate it when writers do that! (stop dead in your tracks.) My approach is to recall that these are people, dammit! They are going to be shocked, tired, hopeful, desperately in love… something. What do you do when something big happens in real life? You sit down and talk about it, cry, throw something, whatever. Let your characters work out their feelings a little, even if it’s a short scene. Give the readers that time to decompress and process… like the 5-minute cooldown at the end of an aerobic workout.
Or, consider the real-life consequences of grand adventures. “The Hobbit” is a great example of this… Bilbo finally comes home and finds everyone has assumed he’s dead and all his worldly goods are up for auction! So he has to interrupt the sale and get all his stuff back. Then he and Gandalf sit in the kitchen discussing personal destiny. It’s fantastic… and very satisfying. IMHO, anyways.
The oxygen metaphor was perfect. That’s a really helpful way to think about it. Thanks!
I know this is off topic, but does anyone know what happens to your manuscript once an agent receives it? How long does it normally take for an agent to read it? Is the agent the only one who needs to read the manuscript before offering representation?
I offered my first choice agent a three-week exclusive and she immediately agreed. She got my manuscript yesterday and now I’m just freaking out. I’ve blown through two novels and six mimosas and my nails have been chewed to stubs. I think I could relax if I just knew what exactly happens once an agent recieves a manuscript.
Thanks.
Wow I can’t even get away from it on a writer’s blog. My instructor was asking a classmate at the hospital today if his wife could make her a Duke stethoscope cover…he said it would probably break the sewing machine (carolina fan).
[whispers in eerie voice]
“I see Duke people” …everywhere.
Cal bombed out. I don’t want to hear about Duke or any freaking tar heels.
I think it’s possible to have conflict without it being a gun battle. F’r instance, I’m just working on a scene where an eight-year-old girl wants to know when they’re leaving the house. She can ask nicely and receive a polite response, which is pleasant but dull, or she can demand to know, grab her sister’s pen, and cause a squabble about why she did that AND cause the reader to wonder why it’s such a big deal that they leave the house sooner rather than later.
But, but, my story if full of conflict:
The characters argue with me and with each other.
The plot is sulking in a corner because everyone is ignoring it.
The themes are getting all morose and depressed because they aren’t being taken seriously.
The world is a shimmering mirage contradicting the laws of physics, geography, and consistency–
Er… that’s not what you meant?
–Going Crazy Anonymously
Very helpful post! Thank you! 🙂
Interesting examples of too-much-conflict can be found in the old pulp stories. I found Volume 1 of Robert E. Howard’s Conan stories to be especially egregious– paragraph after paragraph of relentless limb and head-chopping occasionally interspersed with equally spluttering fulminations about man’s eternal savagery, all delivered at one screaming delirious pitch. Colorful at first, but after awhile painfully monotonous. I found myself wishing for a scene of Conan lying down in a sun-splashed meadow to sniff a flower or two. I never did get around to Volume 2.