Idea to Manuscript, Part II

Filling in Conflict, Resolution, and Stakes

I hope everyone is safe and drying out if you got pummeled by Hurricane Ida this week. We had storms roll through resulting in two very scared good girls (dogs) but otherwise all fine.

I promised less preamble, but there will still be some, albeit less random and more on-topic than usual. Before I dive in to developing conflict, resolution, and stakes for your story, I want to talk about how those are different than plot, character, and setting. You need all six to tell a compelling story.

But aren’t conflict, and the resolution of that conflict, part of the plot? Well, kind of. Actions will happen as a result of the conflict to bring about the resolution, yes. But if we say, of our premise, the Hero must overthrow the Evil King and take control of the kingdom, and that’s the conflict, we’re still missing a lot of information. First of all, person (Hero) versus person (Evil King) is only one kind of conflict, and the plot of a novel is going to have more than just one kind. All of your important characters—your protagonists and antagonists as well as your major supporting characters—will be experiencing some kind of conflict, often multiple kinds. 

Most characters, while facing other conflicts, will also deal with an internal conflict (person vs themself); resolving this internal conflict is how characters grow over the course of the story—they have to grow past whatever personal trait is limiting them, their character flaw. Probably the most illustrative example of a person vs themself conflict (Call of the Wild by Jack London) is about a dog and not a human, but that’s okay because dogs are people too. If you want to tell a compelling story, your protagonist must experience personal growth in the course of it. Nobody is coming along for a story where the protagonist stagnates emotionally.

In addition to person vs person and person vs themself conflicts, there are several other kinds that can occur alongside (or on their own). Most speculative fiction employs a person vs the supernatural (The Shining by Stephen King) or person vs technology (I, Robot by Isaac Asimov) conflict. Rounding out the types of conflict are person vs society (Brave New World by Aldous Huxley) and person vs nature (Moby Dick by Herman Melville). One could argue that person vs god is somehow separate from person vs the supernatural, but I will not make that argument.

All this to say, it’s not good enough to just figure out what your main conflict will be, the one that drives the plot. Even simple stories will have person vs person and person vs themself conflicts, and more complex stories will have at least those and then at least one more, larger conflict. Of the examples I listed above, only Call of the Wild (person vs themself) and I, Robot (person vs technology) feature only one type of conflict. You will notice that they are also short stories. One conflict is probably fine for a short story but you will need more for anything longer and more complex than that.

When it comes to resolution—all of the conflicts you introduce need to get resolved unless you are specifically holding them over to continue in later books with the same characters. A character’s conflict with themself may go on for their entire story arc across many books. A protagonist may defeat their antagonist at the end of a book resolving the major person vs person conflict of that book, but their conflict vs society may continue as part of the larger series arc. 

This hearkens back to what I just discussed a few days ago on the topic of making sure each installment in a series tells a complete story with a satisfying resolution. You can leave a few threads deliberately hanging to entice readers to look forward to the next installment, but you should ensure that most conflicts are resolved and that you’re clear about which are being left to explore later. 

I do not love it when I finish a book and there’s a lingering question from somewhere in the middle of the story that was never addressed again. If you’re coming back to it in a later book, have a character say something about that in the denouement, or use some other method to refer to the unanswered question as a reminder that it will be addressed eventually. Otherwise I assume the author forgot about it, which makes the end of this installment feel incomplete and unsatisfying, which makes me less likely to pick up the next installment.

Finally, the stakes. A lot of people get their elaborate plot all worked out but they forget all about the stakes. Not only do you have to establish the stakes for each major character, but you also have to consider what stakes there may be for the setting, if there are any. It’s easy to say, well, my protagonist is running for office so the stakes are winning the election. Okay, but those aren’t really stakes: What does your protagonist stand to lose if he doesn’t win the election? What must the protagonist risk to win? Major characters have to be taking some kind of personal risk—otherwise there’s no drama. No one gets invested in a character who has nothing on the line.

Moreover, what are the stakes for the constituency in this election? What will befall them if your protagonist doesn’t win, and how will it benefit them if he does? What are the stakes for the kingdom I referenced above where your Hero is trying to overthrow the Evil King? What’s on the line for that kingdom? For its neighboring sovereign states, its allies and its enemies, its protectorates, its colonies? If there are no stakes for the kingdom, then what does it matter to anyone but the Hero and the Evil King who ends up on top? Resolving a personal grudge match is fine but a broader interpretation of stakes is how writers tell a more impactful story.

A final note on stakes: I find it most effective, personally, to establish small stakes first and then periodically raise them throughout the story through narrative revelations to keep dramatic tension building. Put simply, whatever my character thinks they are working toward or fighting for, they will learn upon receiving new information that it’s something bigger and more important than they initially thought.

Okay: Onto some prompts to help figure out the conflict, resolution, and stakes of your story.

Characters to Conflict

You’ll need to consider this series of questions for at least your protagonist(s) and antagonist(s), and probably also for your more important supporting characters.  

First question: What does the character in question want to accomplish?

Whatever happened in the inciting incident, it got your protagonist moving. They are acting on something or reacting to something. What do they need to achieve? Do they need to effect a change or prevent a change from being effected by someone else? Make something happen or stop something? What goal or goals are they intentionally pursuing, and what goals might they be pursuing incidentally or without realizing?

Second Question: What is this character’s personal, internal conflict?

What part of this character is holding them back from achieving what they set out to accomplish? What are they blind to? Where do they completely lack self-awareness? If they were honest with themself, what personal trait would they say they are embarrassed or ashamed of? What action in their past do they wish they could go back and do over? What would meaningful growth look like for this character? What could inspire them to work on that growth?

Third Question: What does this character need in order to accomplish their goal that they don’t have (yet)?

In their person vs person conflict, what is preventing this character from prevailing? Is the other person stronger? Do they need access? Do they need to assemble a team, or acquire more intelligence on the target? Do they need to seek a source of power, learn a technique, acquire an artifact? What is the character with whom they are in conflict doing to obstruct their efforts? How will their plans be thwarted or sabotaged, and how can they adjust their approach to overcome it?

Conflict to Resolution

Regarding resolution, not every character will get their ideal one. If the protagonist prevails, then the antagonist necessarily will not, and vice versa. But for both the protagonist(s) and the antagonist(s), an ideal resolution exists—an outcome that sees all their goals succeed. Although you won’t write all of these resolutions in the final manuscript (unless you’re doing a French Lieutenant’s Woman–type deal), it’s a good idea to know what the ideal resolution would look like for the party who isn’t going to get theirs—so you know what they are working toward and it informs the way you write them.

First question: What would be the ideal resolution for this character?

What does it look like when their goal succeeds? Besides themself, who stands to gain? Who will be cheering and who will be crying? What does this character gain in the short term with their victory? In the long term? How does the victory affect their relationships? Who’s chowing down on sour grapes over it? Where does the character go from this resolution? Can they return to their home? Was their original goal—whatever they had in mind for themself before the inciting incident changed their life—achieved in the process? If not, do they care about it anymore? Is it achievable at all now? Or is its pursuit behind them forever?

Second Question: What could throw a wrench into the victor’s resolution, making it bittersweet?

What might happen to cause the resolution to still happen largely in this character’s favor but not completely? What unexpected consequences could result from this resolution that temper the celebration? Irrespective of the stakes (meaning, aside from what this character knew they stood to lose if they failed), what did this character lose or sacrifice in the course of winning that will haunt them or cause them pain?

Third Question: What punishment or redemption awaits the defeated?

Whoever didn’t come out on top of the final conflict, what’s next for them? If they survived, how will their life be different on the other side of the climax? Does their arc end down, in annihilation, or up, in redemption? What would it take for this character to change their mind—to really change their mind, not pretend to change their mind to make the most of the situation? Can their mind be changed? If they had any redeeming qualities to begin with, how do those show up again in this character’s resolution? Who is still standing with this character, if anyone?

Roll It All Up Into the Stakes

Every character who takes an action needs to have stakes. Readers may not find out what they are for the less-important of your supporting characters, but nobody is doing anything meaningful if they have nothing to gain or lose. If you think about Six of Crows, six protagonists go on the same heist together but the stakes of that heist succeeding or failing are completely different for each of the six—and the reader has total clarity about what each character’s stakes are.

First question: What does this character stand to gain or lose?

Is this character trying to gain something, or are they trying to prevent losing something? If they are working on behalf of someone or something else, even altruistically, what is their personal stake in this? If they have been recruited to uphold a cause, what is their reward if they succeed? Do they seek a return to the status quo they had at the beginning of the book, or is their ultimate aim to end in a different place or situation than they began? Does the character understand what their personal stakes are? If not, how does this character’s perception of their personal stakes differ from the narrator’s or reader’s understanding of this character’s personal stakes?

Second Question: What is this character willing to risk or sacrifice to succeed?

Is this character willing to make sacrifices to succeed? If so, what are they willing to sacrifice? What does this character hold closest to their heart, the thing they would not sacrifice, even for success? Does anyone besides this character know what that one thing is? Do they hold others whose success conditions align with their own to the same standard of willingness to sacrifice? Is this character a natural risk-taker or is taking risks outside their comfort zone? Either way, how will this character’s risk tolerance be pushed past their limits by the needs of the plot? If there’s something they’re completely unwilling to risk, what is it? And does anyone else know what it is they wouldn’t be willing to risk?

Third Question: What will happen in the wider story world if this character is successful?

What are the stakes for everyone and everything that is not one of your main characters? How will the other denizens of the setting be affected by all that has transpired? How will they benefit from the protagonists’ success or failure? How will the main characters’ family members and friends who did not participate in the plot be affected? How will the setting itself be affected? Will places—houses, properties, cities, kingdoms—change ownership? Were they damaged or restored? Are conditions in the setting the same as they were at the start of the story or have they changed, and if so, have they changed for better or worse?

Congratulations! If you’ve made it through all of Tuesday’s and today’s questions, you have a deep understanding of all the major pieces of a complete and compelling story. Even if you’re writing a memoir and telling events you know by heart, it can’t hurt to run through these questions and establish your understanding of things like stakes that you may not have given a whole lot of thought to at the time, or that you might know more about in hindsight.

Next week is the last week of Shelf Life year one! I hope you will join me for the final two articles before we ring in the new Shelf Life year.