Introducing Conflict with Yes, but / No, and

There’s nothing worse than a book without conflict, except maybe a hyperbolic statement.

Conflict is what drives stories forward, both at a macro level (the central, overarching plot) and at the micro level (individual scenes and chapters). Could you imagine a book about somebody that wants something really, really bad, and then the book has them simply go out and get it?

My main character desperately wants a classic car. But not just any classic car. The model she wants is very rare; there’s only a few like it in the whole country. Then, one fortuitous morning, she wakes up and has her breakfast like any other day, and notices an email notification from a local car dealership. The car she wants was just made available, so she pops down that morning and buys it.

The end.

Now it’s not really a story, is it? Even if you gave it a traditional story structure, introduced supporting characters and did a bit of world-building on the side, it is still missing that key ingredient. The one that makes the book interesting. The one that allows your character to reveal themselves through action and reaction. The thing that makes the reader sympathise and root for the character, to experience the highs and lows right alongside them, and to invest themselves in your story.

For that, you need conflict.

So, what is it?

Kurt Vonnegut famously said that every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.

With that statement in mind, the answer is easy — conflict is something preventing a character from achieving their goal.

This conflict can be internal (inside the character — thoughts, feelings, fears etc.) or external (outside the character’s control — other characters, events etc.).

As a writer, it allows us to say sure, you want this thing. But you’re not going to get it easily. You’re going to fight for this thing. You’re going to try, and fail, and try again until you finally have it. And then you’re going to have it snatched out of your hands at the last minute. You’re going to think you’ve lost it forever, before you finally overcome your obstacles and regain it for ever.

What the thing is, well, that’s entirely up to you (and your genre). It might be a magic sword. Or a healthy relationship. Or a way to move on from the past. Or, of course, a glass of water.

Conflict is good. In fact, some people say that conflict is the very essence of a story. And as a writer, you are going to want to cram as much conflict into your book as you possibly can. Yep — every single scene.

After all, we have a whole book to write, here.

Yes, but / No, and

One of the coolest things about being a writer today is the sheer number of resources available. If you’re stuck on any point of the writing process, chances are someone has analysed it, quantified it, created a system and released it into the wild.

Conflict is no different. There’s tons of handy guides to introducing and sustaining conflict, but one that really works for me is the Yes, but / No, and cycle. It’s a terrible name, but that’s probably because this handy trick doesn’t really have an official name. I also don’t know who came up with it, so my apologies for failing to credit the awesome mystery creator.

And it’s dead easy. Just make sure every scene has a central goal. And then at the end, ask yourself if that goal was achieved.

If it was, then you insert a Yes, but clause that flows to the next scene. Did my character get that glass of water? Yes, but on the way back from the kitchen they tripped and fell down the stairs.

If they didn’t achieve it, insert and No, and clause. Did my character get that glass of water? No, and they choked on their food.

The clause is pretty easy to grasp — we don’t want to make it too easy for our characters to achieve their goals. On the other end of the spectrum, the clause means that even in failure, a way is found to keep the momentum moving forward. After all, if the clause was simply , then after the scene concludes the character would be back where they started and no progress would have been made. That magical allows the story to keep going.

And remember; the idea is to introduce conflict. We don’t want a story that goes and this happened. And then this happened. And then this happened. Instead, we want a story that goes this happened. Which made this happen. But then that made this other thing happen. Which in turn led to this happening which then affected how that happened.

The difference is cause and effect — how something that happens in one scene (cause) introduces conflict that must be dealt with in the next scene (effect). Things aren’t happening at random or without any connection, but rather through a line of logical events that can be traced from start to finish and full of sweet, sweet conflict.

Putting the Cycle into Practice

Going back to our first example — the woman buying a rare car. As a thought exercise, let’s whip up the start of a quick outline using the Yes, but / No, and cycle. I’m not promising a Man Booker prize winner, here, but it’s a useful practical example.

If you remember, our protagonist wants a particular type of rare car.

• One morning she wakes up and gets an email notification, saying one has become available. Can she buy it? Yes, but the asking price is too expensive.
• She calls in favours from her friends to raise money. Does she get enough? No, and she realises she needs to get the money from somewhere else.
• So, she goes to her local loan shark, a mafia type boss, to borrow the money. Does he give it to her? Yes, but he wants a stake in the car.
• She now has the money, but the car is across the country, and she doesn’t have any transportation. Can she get there herself? No, and she decides to hitchhike and rely on the good will of others.
• Does she make it across the country? Yes, but along the way she is robbed and all the money is stolen.
• She goes to the dealer anyway to plead her case, but he refuses to be moved by her story. Does she get the car? No, and it’s sold the next day.
• In a last ditch effort, she breaks into the dealership to get the sales records, so she can speak to the new owner. Does she get them? Yes, but she’s caught by the police and thrown in jail.

This is where my thought exercise ran out of steam but you get the idea. You can see that if we drill down on any of these points we have more opportunity for micro-level conflict that could be spread across multiple scenes. The mafia loan-shark. The hitchhiking trip. Breaking into the dealership. Yummy conflict.

And the key takeaway? Where the character should have succeeded, a new conflict was introduced that needed to be dealt with. And when the character reached a point of failure, a way was revealed that meant the story momentum could be preserved.

Connecting the Dots

Remember when I said how great it was to have access to so many writing resources? The flip side is that it’s easy to fall into the trap of focusing too much on the beats of a story structure. When you read about the 3 act format, or the 7 point story structure, or the hero’s journey, it’s natural to see the required beats and focus more on them than the rest of the story. After all, they must be the important bits, right?

This sees many writers in such a hurry to hit their major plot points — their call to action, their pinch points, or whatever structure they subscribe to — that they forget to link these moments together in a plausible manner. It becomes a series of vignettes rather than a cohesive story, and sends writers onto the internet asking for advice because they don’t want to write the ‘boring bits’ that happen in between their plot points.

And that’s where I think the Yes, but / No, and cycle is great — it reduces the reliance on these singular plot points by elevating all the other bits. Yes, your genre will have specific points that need to be hit in your story, but why should the rest of the book play second fiddle to these points? Shouldn’t the ‘in-between bits’ be just as important as the fireworks moments? How cool would it be if the whole book had this amazing momentum thanks to the Yes, but / No, and cycle?

Suddenly, we’d have:

• A defined link from one scene to the next
• An introduced or sustained conflict in every scene
• A satisfying sense of cause-and-effect
• Growth even through failure
• More opportunity for characterisation

This is why I think the Yes, but / No, and cycle is a great tool to have in your writer’s toolbox. Good luck!

Originally published at https://darcyarmstrong.com on November 24, 2020.