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The Key to Conflict in Fiction Part I

Whether you realize it or not at the heart of all conflict, is resistance. Simply put, it is the struggle. It is the struggle that creates depth in conflict in your scenes. The more the emphasis is placed on the struggle the greater the immersion of the conflict for the reader. Perhaps you have not been viewing your conflict in your writing in such a way, but I encourage you to do so. Once you look at it in this way it will provide many opportunities to embellish your conflict in ways you may not have realized. It will also make it easier to spice up the action and cause your reader to better identify with the plight of the characters so called futile resistance.

Having said all that, resistance comes in external and internal forms and these two naturally feed each other and further expand the tools you have to enhance the conflict in your scene. However, I will only be dealing with internal resistance. I believe it is somewhat undervalued in the art of scene building and I am persuaded that internal resistance is the true catalyst in conflict. Even for the pushover character, once they have finally been pushed too far they are willing to exert some external resistance in the form of retaliation. Please see the excerpt below taken from a scene in my sci – fi work in progress Fulfilling a Vow: Looking for Answers.

Example

Fumiko’s mocha-brown eyes glistened with moisture in the soft, pale moonlight filtering in through the two windows on the wall she was facing. It was moisture that began to flow down her cheeks in thin rivulets as she gazed upon the picture hanging there. Her right hand clutched the folds of the robe closed over her bosom as her shoulders bobbed hard and muffled cries rang from quivering lips. She did not want to rouse Suzuko, her poor daughter had experienced enough trauma to haunt her for years to come, and it was well after 11pm. But how could she hold it in, when she saw the image of her, Makoto, Suzuko and Makiko in the picture hanging against the wall? It was a picture taken at one of their happiest moments. It was also one of the last pictures that they would share together as a family, considering that a few weeks later, Makiko exited this life into eternity. Fumiko began to wail, her cries growing louder.

She threw her arms out to her side and looked up to the ceiling, sinking her knees into the large Persian rug beneath her.

“Je - sus, Jesus why?” She wagged her head from side to side. “Why my family? Why did that monster have to come to my family?” She crumpled to the floor prostrate. “Lord it was nearly a year ago that you took my daughter and after you sent that monster into my home, my Su - zuko, Su-” Her body convulsed as she choked on the words and began to wail. Her nails dug into the carpet like a cat clawing at the cushion on a couch. Tears and snot dampened the plush rug fibers beneath her face. Her lips parted to coughed sobs. “Father, I just don’t understand your purpose, for allowing my husband to be taken or my poor baby to suffer such trauma, but… I trust you.” Her hands balled into fists. “Jesus, I know somehow, someway, you are working this for the good of my family, but I need your strength. Lord give me wisdom and the strength that I need to accomplish your will, although in my heart I want to hate her for the suffering she has brought upon us. Jesus, have mercy upon her as well as me.”

Leaning against the open bamboo, sliding doors at the rooms entrance, a silhouette took in the scene before them with lambent lavender-purple eyes, remaining as stiff as a statuette. Their ears perked to the sounds erupting from Fumiko’s throat. She had heard many languages from where she was from and was aware of the variety of them scattered about Earth’s dense population, but this was different. She also had heard Fumiko speaking in her native Japanese tongue to Suzuko and Makoto, but this was not the same. As Fumiko cried out in those strange tongues with her body resting on her knees and her hands and face raised toward the ceiling, she could feel a powerful presence in the room. An overwhelming fear gripped at Manitra’s soul. Her existence felt as insignificant as a speck of dust. She was naked before this presence, stripped of her deepest, darkest, and most intimate thoughts. Nothing could be hidden from the omniscient presence that filled the room. She shuddered, rattled like buildings above shifting tectonic plates during an earthquake. It was like a mirror was slammed in front of her, exposing her truest self, displaying an image that she refused to accept but she was unable to look away. It did not matter how she willed herself to do so. Wails like that of a banshee reverberated from deep within her mind, screaming for the image to be cast away or shattered. She squinted her eyes as tight as she could, but the image was still there as clear as before. Her chest heaved, and her breathing grew rampant. Manitra felt the urge to run far away, never look back, and crawl into a deep pit and be buried, until the bliss of death brought her torment to a swift end. Manitra sighed deep, just as suddenly as it came the presence dissipated as if it was never there. Realizing that it was now quiet, a little too quiet, her eyes popped back open. They opened only to find another pair gazing back into them. Fumiko was not only standing but also facing her with an expression full of conflict. For a moment she just stared, the hardness of her visage gradually giving way. Her lips, though tightly pressed, stretched into a curt smile.

“Traes said that the Board had ordered the shuttle to be destroyed but we did not believe that you would die so easily. I was persuaded that nothing would keep you from returning here.”

Fumiko’s heart bubbled with motherly warmth as she looked upon Manitra’s pained face. She watched as her quivering lips parted only to yield to silence. Unable to maintain Fumiko’s warm gaze Manitra averted her eyes, looking at the beige-brown leather loveseat that represented the only seating place in the room.

Fumiko sighed, part of her wanted to just rush over and crush her in a hug but a small part resented her very presence. Even though she had prayed, she knew that it was up to her to reign in her emotions, to deny her carnality and display the love that God had shown the world. But why did it have to be so hard? She clenched and unclenched her hands at her side. There was no sense trying to pretend, the scripture also said to confront those you have issues with rather than pretend that everything was okay.

She took a breath but could not diminish the sharp edge in her tone. “I want to believe, that you had a very good reason for what you did on the Destiny Venture.”

Breaking it Down

Let’s determine what the internal resistance is in this scene? We will look at both Fumiko and Mantira.

We will begin with Fumiko.

The following excerpts depict and deepen the struggle against the internal resistance:

  • Fumiko’s mocha-brown eyes glistened with moisture in the soft, pale moon light filtering in through the two windows on the wall she was facing.
  • Her right hand clutched the folds of the robe closed over her bosom as her shoulders bobbed hard and muffled cries rang from quivering lips. She did not want to rouse Suzuko, her poor daughter had experienced enough trauma to haunt her for years to come, and it was well after 11pm.
  • She threw her arms out to her side and looked up to the ceiling, sinking her knees into the large Persian rug beneath her.

While you do not know what is troubling Fumiko, through these actions it is clearly conveyed that something very burdensome is tormenting her. By taking the time to allow the reader to experience the flow of her emotions it helps to build up to what is agitating her.

The following excerpt gives us insight to Fumiko’s internal resistance:

  • “Je - sus, Jesus why?” She wagged her head from side to side. “Why my family? Why did that monster have to come to my family?” She crumpled to the floor prostrate. “Lord it was nearly a year ago that you took my daughter and after you sent that monster into my home, my Su - zuko, Su-” Her body convulsed as she choked on the words and began to wail. Her nails dug into the carpet like a cat clawing at the cushion on a couch. Tears and snot dampened the plush rug fibers beneath her face. Her lips parted to coughed sobs. “Father, I just don’t understand your purpose, for allowing my husband to be taken or my poor baby to suffer such trauma, but… I trust you.” Her hands balled into fists. “Jesus, I know somehow, someway, you are working this for the good of my family, but I need your strength. Lord give me wisdom and the strength that I need to accomplish your will, although in my heart I want to hate her for the suffering she has brought upon us. Jesus, have mercy upon her as well as me.”

While you may not understand the implications of her internal struggle in case it is not evident they are all tied to the monster which is Manitra that her family had met. The death of her oldest daughter has nothing to do with Manitra but what happened to her husband and her other daughter does. To provide more clarity in case you missed it, her conflict is over hating or loving Manitra even though she has caused unbearable grievance to her family. Fumiko is struggling with forgiveness and the principles of her Christian faith.

In this excerpt below we have the compounded impact of Fumiko’s struggles:

  • Fumiko was not only standing but also facing her with an expression full of conflict. For a moment she just stared, the hardness of her visage gradually giving way. Her lips, though tightly pressed, stretched into a curt smile.
  • Fumiko sighed, part of her wanted to just rush over and crush her in a hug but a small part resented her very presence. Even though she had prayed, she knew that it was up to her to reign in her emotions, to deny her carnality and display the love that God had shown the world. But why did it have to be so hard? She clenched and unclenched her hands at her side. There was no sense trying to pretend, the scripture also said to confront those you have issues with rather than pretend that everything was okay.
  • Fumiko’s heart bubbled with motherly warmth as she looked upon Manitra’s pained face.
  • She took a breath but could not diminish the sharp edge in her tone.

By introducing Manitra onto the scene it provides Fumiko with the opportunity to make a choice. It should be apparent that she was not expecting the subject of her prayer to suddenly appear before her. You can see the continued struggle through all of Fumiko’s actions above which help to add more depth to the gravity of the conflict. Once again, it is the struggle, which is more evident than before as it is directed toward the object of her torment.

Now let’s take a look at the excerpts that depict Manitra’s struggle:

  • An overwhelming fear gripped at Manitra’s soul.
  • Her existence felt as insignificant as a speck of dust. She was naked before this presence, stripped of her deepest, darkest, and most intimate thoughts.
  • Nothing could be hidden from the omniscient presence that filled the room.
  • She shuddered, rattled like buildings above shifting tectonic plates during an earthquake. It was like a mirror was slammed in front of her, exposing her truest self, displaying an image that she refused to accept but she was unable to look away. It did not matter how she willed herself to do so.
  • Her chest heaved, and her breathing grew rampant. Manitra felt the urge to run far away, never look back, and crawl into a deep pit and be buried, until the bliss of death brought her torment to a swift end.

The first four excerpts are the depiction of Manitra’s struggle with her inner resistance while the fifth is a continuance of her resistance.

In this excerpt we come to realize what it is that Manitra is struggling with:

  • Wails like that of a banshee reverberated from deep within her mind, screaming for the image to be cast away or shattered. She squinted her eyes as tight as she could, but the image was still there as clear as before.

If it is not clear from this portion, it is the true depiction of herself that she is resisting. That supernatural presence is forcing her to come to terms with what she really is but as you can see from this little portion of the scene that I provide; she is very much in denial.

Wrapping it Up

While I have only provided a fraction of this scene I hope I have conveyed to you just how powerful the depiction of the struggle is in creating a more immersive feel to your conflict. This applies to both internal and external resistance.

I encourage you to take a look at your scenes you are working on and see how you can do the same with your conflict and really focus on getting the most out of your characters struggle that you can create your own masterpiece.

Also, if you are looking to get a deeper understanding of the when, why and how to use resistance to help bring out the most of your scene writing and keep your readers begging for more, get a copy of my book Mastering Your Scenes.

I value your input and would love to hear your thoughts.

Don't be shy, join in on this conversation and let me know the inspiration you recieved or ideas you have about this topic in the comment box below.

Don't miss part 2 click the arrow below.

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