Welcome to this week’s instalment of our series on How To Self-Edit. We’ve already covered:

• The Basics of Self-Editing
• The Structural Edit: Plot & Setting
• The Structural Edit: Characters
• The Structural Edit: Flow & Pace

Today, we’ll discuss conflict and resolution. Let’s get to it.

Conflict and Resolution

Every story, no matter what genre, must include conflict.

Many of us read the word conflict and immediately think ‘fight’ but that’s not necessarily the case.

Define Conflict

Conflict is anything that stands in the way of our protagonist reaching their goal, and can come from internal or external sources.

If Mary wants to be a fashion designer but is colour-blind, we have a conflict. We also find conflict if Michael is in love with Jade but she’s in love with Amy, or if Ryan wants to be an athlete but has a heart condition. Lucy wants to go to the prom, but her overprotective mother won’t allow it. Piper wants to be an archaeologist but has intense claustrophobia, and James dreams of seeing the world but their social anxiety keeps them secluded at home.

Illnesses, fears, family members, undeveloped skills, jobs, fields of study, friendships, tutors, and more—if it hinders the protagonist from completing their goal, it’s a conflict.

Of course, every conflict in a story must be resolved or the reader won’t be satisfied. Most novels are a series of minor conflicts and resolutions that bring us to the overall conflict and final resolution.

Think of it like any episode of your favourite crime drama. The first murder occurs and the cops find a clue that leads them to the second victim and another clue, but the criminal evades them, another clue, another setback, etc, until they finally catch the culprit.

A good rule of thumb is that every chapter should have a slice of conflict, which means issues will continuously arise and be resolved throughout the story. It also means each time a problem is solved, another shouldn’t be too far off.

Conflict raises the stakes, adding urgency that keeps the reader turning those pages.

How to Add Conflict

At the end of each chapter, we should ask ourselves if the conflict was resolved. Once we’ve answered yes or no, we can create additional conflict by adding ‘and’ or ‘but’.

Was the conflict resolved?

• “Yes, and…” Our character no longer has a problem and gains something. For example, Arthur pulls the sword from the stone and becomes king. We find ‘yes and’ at the end of stories, but they can also happen throughout the plot.
• “Yes, but…” The character no longer has a problem, but all is not as it should be. For example, the hobbits reach the Prancing Pony, but Gandalf isn’t there to meet them.
• “No, but…” The conflict hasn’t been resolved, but our protagonist has gained something. Harry is unable to save Snape but learns in Snape’s final moments that he was acting as a double agent, helping them all along.
• “No, and…” Typically the worst of situations. The problem remains unsolved and a new conflict arises. For example, President Snow is still in control and Katniss is back in the Hunger Games arena with friends and previous winners.

Establishing conflict and resolution cycles means we can edit the manuscript with a clearer idea of the stakes and how to amplify them. If certain parts of our story drag, the stakes are likely too low, so we should add a new conflict.

Chance

Most (if not all) stories start with an inciting event born of chance, AKA an event based on luck or coincidence. A good inciting event establishes the early stakes, adding urgency to the story.

For example, in A Study of Ash & Smoke, Lance and Puck find a corpse inside the Mantle, and it happens to deliver a deadly plague to their closed-off world.

Prim is the female tributary for the Hunger Games—chance. The same applies to Violet, whose mother sends her to the Rider’s Quadrant instead of the scribes. Ender is chosen for Battle School, Harry is a wizard with magic in a magic-less world, and Tris is divergent. Alina’s proximity to an amplifier when her powers manifest is pure chance. In each case, chance sets the plot in motion.

The best books don’t rely on coincidence or luck after the inciting event.

If our characters stumble upon the answers they’re looking for without effort, the relic they require falls at their feet, or their new allies walk right up to them unasked, it’ll read like a divine writerly hand simply passes them whatever they need. Where’s the fun in that?

We want to see our characters working hard to overcome the stakes—this is why we see so many training montages in movies.

Chance is a conflict killer, and must be used frugally.

During the edit, we can rework events based on chance by brainstorming.

• What can the protagonist do to take an active role in this event?
• Which skills do they need to stop relying on luck?
• What if the protagonist did *this* instead?

How do you handle conflict and resolution in your writing?

I’ll be back next week with a post about the final elements in a structural edit, the writer’s voice and style.

Until then.

Yolandie