Category: Conflict

Posted in Conflict, Scenes

Giving Yourself a Little Push

Posted on by beckylevine

When I plot, I have some basics I shoot for, in terms of each scene. Yes, I want to know things like who’s there, where are they, what are they doing. What I really want to know, though, is the conflict.

The biggest thing I try to figure out when I plot is my MC’s goal. Not her story-long, big-picture goal, but her specific scene for that goal. And then I need to know what the obstacles are–which characters’ goals are in conflict with hers, and how/why. What is going on in the environment/her world that creates extra problems. How does she sabotage herself?

Most of the time this works for me. I get just enough of these goal+obstacle=conflict pieces down, so that I feel I can move on to plotting the next scene or, if it’s time, writing this one.

Every now and then, though, once I’ve plotted I come across a scene that still feels weak to me. It might be a scene that has something big happening at the end, or a scene I need to show some world-building or to seed something that’s coming later in the story. Okay, fine. But what’s the problem NOW? What’s going to create the what-if feeling in the reader as they read?

The WIP I’m working on now is a much heavier (in emotional intensity, NOT density, I hope!) story than I’ve written before. So, yes, I can have a scene that’s perhaps a bit more action-packed, or that lightens the mood a bit with some comedy, but I can’t just drop in a chapter that’s all laughs and car-chases, without something more. That’s the kind of thing that jars readers, that makes them pull out of the story they’ve been dug into, shake their heads, and say, “Huh?” Doing this is breaking the contract you’ve established with this reader, the one that says, “I’m telling you this kind of story.”

What do you do when you’re writing or revising, and you start working on a scene that you don’t quite “get”? You’ve got a couple of choices. You can tell yourself just to write–to let the words go onto the page and watch where they take you and let your ideas develop as you go. Or you can take a few minutes and muse on goal and conflict, push yourself into the more tense places in your characters’ lives, and think about possibilities.

In either case, I think, this is a time to push yourself. Either while you’re writing, or while you sit with a cup of tea and stare out the window, don’t just accept the first idea that comes to mind. Look at it, make a note, write a few paragraphs about it, and then think. Is this workable? Is this taking you that extra few steps into your characters’, into the conflict & tension that will deepen your story and keep your readers hooked?

It’s amazing how little time this can take. Yes, of course, you are going to run into walls, especially during an early draft, where you just don’t understand enough yet about your book, where you have to throw up your hands, say, “I don’t know!”, leave some kind of note for yourself, and keep writing. But it’s always surprising to me how often, if I have the patience to slow down and listen, that another idea comes to me–a link to the deeper elements of the story. An idea that makes the scene better.

When and how do you push yourself to take that extra time, to sharpen your focus and see what comes?

Posted in Antagonists, Conflict

Antagonists: What Have They Lost?

Posted on by beckylevine

Okay, I admit, this feels like an odd post to be writing at the end of the year, with a new one and all its possibilities just around the corner. But I’m working on characters this week, and I’m spending quite a bit of time with my antagonists. All of whom, really, have their good sides. In fact, they’re all a little too nice at this point, and I’m digging for what they want so badly that it’s turning them against my MC.

And as I was thinking about one character’s particular want, I realized that this want–his deep, most real want–is impossible. He lost any chance of getting that want years ago–through no fault of his own. I know, storywise, that the path is not going to turn; it won’t be a surprise, happy ending for him. So…because without a goal, there is no plot, I needed to think of another want for him, less powerful maybe, but one that has filled in for the older need–one that still motivates his actions and choices in the story. A want that still makes problems for my MC.

It came to me pretty quickly. Okay, let’s face it, I was laying in bed not wanting to get up and character development is as good an excuse as any to stay warm and cozy.

The cool thing that I realized was that the new want hasn’t completely erased the old one. Oh, sure, the character is 99.9999% sure that he’ll get that old want. He knows it intellectually and at a gut level. But…he still wants it. If you said to him, what would you do to get X, he’d come up with a huge list of things he’d sacrifice. In a nano-second.

So what do you get with this character, then? You get a character who knows loss, and who will fight more strongly than ever to keep from losing more. I think  it’s this loss, this awareness of what they can’t have, that makes an antagonist so powerful in his battle. He can’t go back, can’t have that original want, but he will hold onto his “replacement” want with everything he’s got.

The character I was thinking about this morning, just to try and make things more clear, is my MC’s father. I don’t want to get too deeply into specifics, but his original want is the woman he fell in love with, his wife (the MC’s mother) as she was before something bad happened to her. He can’t have that woman–she is forever gone. She broke years ago, and she has changed permanently, but she has healed…some.  So his second want, the one he lives with now, is to keep safe the woman he does have, to stop anything from breaking her again.

Even if this means stopping his daughter.

What does this create? An antagonist in serious conflict with the hero. An antagonist who the reader will sympathize with (assuming I can actually write this!), and who will make big problems for the main character. An antagonist with power.

Take a look at your bad guy. What do they want, now, at this moment in the story. And then…what would they rather have? What have they, in essence, given up on, but still hold the tiniest bit of hope for? How many more sides do you see to this antagonist, when you add that extra piece?

Posted in Conflict, Dialogue, Scenes

Triangles-More Angles and Sharp Edges

Posted on by beckylevine

Geometry? I don’t think so. Triangles, in math, hold no appeal for me.

Triangles in fiction, though, are a whole different subject.

The picture book I’m working on has three characters. Okay, well, four, but one’s a surprise, and I’m not talking about that one yet. But the family–three members.

I knew what the son–the hero–was about. I knew what the father was about. And I knew there was/should be a mother. Even if I didn’t know, at all, what she was about.

I wanted that mother. Not just because, well…I wanted to be in the story. For one thing, I wanted my young hero to have two (albeit well-meaning) antagonists, so he really has to fight to come through the winner. But also because I just like triangles.

Pick a scene, any scene. You’ve got two people in that scene, interacting with each other. Those two people can have a conversation. Those two people can have an argument. Those two people can create some serious tension.

Three can do more.

If you’re reading a scene with two characters, you may get some surprises, but there is a pattern you–as the reader–will be following. It’s kind of like watching tennis or ping-pong. It’s not always back and forth–the server might double-fault, or the receiver get aced. But basically, you know who’s going to hit the ball next. In a scene, you know–basically–who’s going to speak next, or act/react next.

If you add a third character to that scene, all bets are off. You can’t know, as the reader, with any certainty, who’s up next in the rally. You can’t anticipate, for sure, who’s going to be arguing with whom, or when (even if) the third character will throw in their own two cents. You can’t guess, when the hero takes a punch at someone else in the room, whether he’ll hit his target or that other guy in the room.

And, honestly, there are plenty of times when the writer can’t predict any of this either.

So I’m keeping my mother. With the help of a critique from Susan Taylor Brown, I now have the spark of an idea of what the mother is about. I’ll play with that in the next draft and see what she gives back to me, to the story. To that triangle.

Posted in Character, Conflict

Conflict AND Connection

Posted on by beckylevine

Here’s what I worked on this afternoon.

conflict_connection

Okay, well, I filled it in, too.

Earlier this week, Jenn Hubbard blogged here about reading actor Jeff Griggs’ book Guru. You should read Jenn’s post to see all she got out of the book, but the thing that stuck with me was her realization that our characters need to work together at times, not always be in conflict. 

I started thinking about this as supporting each other, or at least having a connection. And I started asking myself what connection and conflict each of my main characters have with each other.

Enter the chart.

The biggest struggle was, honestly, creating the chart. I am chart-o-phobic. Flow charts are totally beyond me, and even this “simple” one that you see here got me all confused as I started entering info. Had to back out, look at it again, slap myself in the forehead a few times, and restart.

I don’t know if you can read this very well, but the main characters’ names repeat across the top and down the left. Basically, the rows show conflict and the columns show connection. I think. Or maybe a better description is that all the cells UNDER the shaded stairway show connection, while the cells ABOVE the shading show conflict.

To give you a clear (?) example, Nate (formerly known as Love Interest #1) and Gideon (formerly known as Love Interest #2) have the last two rows and last two columns. If you follow Nate’s row all the way across to where he meets Gideon above the shading, you can probably guess their conflict I typed in there—they both want Caro. On the other hand, if you follow Nate’s column all the way down to meet Gideon below the shading, well…you tell me what their connection is. I’m being generous (and wimpy) at this point and saying that they actually do both want Caro to be happy.

I’m not sure where this’ll take me, and I’m pretty sure (I see you nodding) that the info in the cells will change many times during the writing of this story. But for now it’s a reminder that the dynamics of a story work at many levels and that characters, like us, have complicated motives for their actions.

Some of which they’ll actually share with their authors.

Posted in Character, Conflict, Scenes, Tension

Amping Up Character Tension

Posted on by beckylevine

This summer I will turn forty-mumble-mumble years old. At this time in my life (says the old, wise one), I have built up a community (or a tribe, as my friend Terri Thayer calls it) of friends with whom I am comfortable and happy, and who help me keep my life interesting and my brain active. When we get together, there’s lots of talking back and forth, sharing of family stories, and laughter. I feel connected and supported.

And if you wrote us into a scene of your book, your readers would be yawning and heading off for a nap. (Well, okay, not right away–we are pretty funny.)

There just isn’t a lot of conflict.

Yes, we’re realistic. Unfortunately, that’s not enough when you’re writing a scene in a story. You need emotion, tension, and some serious problems to deal with. And the characters can’t just be talking about problems; they need to be experiencing some. At that moment.

How do you add conflict to character interaction?

  • Give your characters conflicting goals. I’m not just talking about their big, story goals, but their goals for the scene. What does each of them want right there and then, and where do the goals clash?
  • Add a third character to a scene. Remember how, when your child was small, you were wary of setting up a “triangle” playdate? Guess why. The goals/needs of two people have equal weight. A third person can pick a side, making the scale off-balance. They can give supremacy to one person and put the other on the defensive. Nice!
  • Give one character authority over the other. Bosses, parents, teachers, venture capitalist—they hold the power and can “make” another person do something they don’t want. Anger and resentment, much? Go for it.
  • Weave in a secret. If you want complicated dialog, with some tension, let one character know something the other doesn’t. Are they using it to bribe the second character? Are they desperate to keep that character from finding out? Does the second character suspect the secret? Push/pull…conflict.
  • Add a deadline. People with all the time in the world to talk, accomplish something, or make a plan can, well…take all that time. They can be relaxed, chit-chatty, patient. If they’ve got five minutes to make a decision, though, and they don’t even have all the facts they need—they get rushed, impatient, frustrated, and argumentative. Can you hear the dialog?

We all know the “rule”–no scenes with characters sitting around a table at the coffeehouse, talking. Frankly, I’m okay with a scene (or maybe two) like this, if it doesn’t send the story, or me, into a slump of slow-pacing, frivolous dialog, and happy friendship. As much as I want that in my own life these days, I do not want it in the books I’m reading. Or writing.

Neither do you. 🙂

What do you do to make your characters less happy with each other, more at odds? Leave a comment and share the tip!