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Welcome to The Verb!
 We've
heard the Voice, we’ve met the Protagonist. Now comes the Big Question:
What’s the problem? And there must be a problem or else we gots
no story, baby.
The technical
term is Conflict—a disagreement
between your protag and an outside force. Something or someone has
challenged him, and he must act. He can’t keep doing what he was doing
prior to the problem. He can’t call in sick. He can’t pass it on to
someone else. This is his new job.
And it's what
makes the story move.
Your readers will
always want the who and the where, but no amount
of background or backstory will ever equal their hunger for
old fashioned conflict. They're positively begging for things to go
wrong, to see how folks will deal. Because it's interesting. Suspenseful. This is what
readers seek when they flip through
your
first few pages. (Nice to meet you, Mr. Protagonist. Why are
we gathered here today?) If they don't find it in a reasonable
amount of time, say, in the first chapter, they'll mosey on to something else.
And we can't have that.
Let's test
your Conflict Content...
First,
describe your story's major conflict. If you can do this in one
sentence, your nimble fingers are wrapped tightly around its neck. Which
becomes apparent on your very first page.
Second, write
a brief summary of every chapter in your manuscript, noting only the
action. Not the little actions that deliciously define character,
such as storming into a room or pouring liquor into one's morning
coffee. But the big actions that awesomely advance the story, such as
finding a bloody knife or finally speaking to one's attractive neighbor. (This
is what I do when I read your manuscript. Helps me track the movement of
the story.)
Now study
what's before you. Do all your
scenes contain at least one of these big actions? Can you see your protag steadily approaching a climax?
If you're
nodding right now, go to the back of the room. And remember us when
you're famous!
If you're
shaking your head,
it's time to take the third test. Time to consider why you’re writing
this story in the first place. What are you trying to say? It's
no huge leap from conflict to theme. Your unspoken message not only
helps you create the problem, it dictates the actions your protag will
take.
For instance,
let's look at
The Legend of Birdie Haywood. (And please, think me not a
self-absorbed windbag for using my own story. I just finished editing a
few scenes, and it's fresh on my mind.) On the
surface, this story is about a teenage girl
who hides in nearby
woods after seeing a horrible sight, eluding family, townsfolk and the
sheriff so well she becomes a local legend.
But the theme
is denial.
We see it
in her milieu. Those trees literally hide her from the world, and
figuratively delay her acceptance of reality. We see it in
her character. She is an exceptional runner, which mirrors her run from
the truth. Most important, we see it in her actions. She
refuses to accept a traumatic event while the rest of the world
demands she do just that.
All great
fodder for conflict. But this
story wouldn't be a story if Birdie possessed coping skills. Her denial
creates the problem.
So...
discover your theme, discover your story's conflict. Once you have that firmly in
place, why, it's just a hop and a skip and a twist and a turn, and maybe
an occasional gunfight, to resolving it.
Elizabeth Guy
Editor
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