Building Your Core: Internal and External Core Conflicts

When you're talking about plot, the core conflict is, naturally, at the center of everything. It's what the book is about, the whole reason your characters are doing their thing. It's the conflict in your one-line pitch, and probably takes up space in your query hook.

In The Shifter, it's all about saving the sister. Other stuff happens, but that core problem is what's driving Nya to act on every page.

But there's also another core conflict. Nya's struggle with her powers.

Wait! you say? How can you have two core conflicts?

Because one is the external conflict, and one is the internal conflict.

External Core Conflict
The external core conflict is the problem your protag is facing on the outside. The meat of your story. Resolving this issue is the end of the book, discovering you have this issue is pretty close to the front of the book. The opening pages and the inviting event all lead to this issue.

This conflict is a great guide for figuring out what your plot is. Look at this problem, and think about ways your protag might trying to resolve it. Then look at those ways, and think of things you're protag might do to make those things happen. You can work backward from the end, or look at the smaller steps that would lead up to this issue.

If you have an idea for a scene, you can look at the protag's goal and ask if it connects to, or gets the protag to, this core conflict. If yes, you know you're probably on the right track plot-wise. If no, there's a good chance the scene is heading off on a tangent.

Internal Core Conflict
The internal core conflict is the problem the protag is facing on the inside. It's most often a personal struggle that deals with the protag's belief system in some way. This is the conflict that will probably follow the character arc and allow them to grow however they need to in the story.

Your internal core conflict will likely be at odds with your external core conflict. It's what's going to make all those choices you throw at your protag harder. It will want to lead the protag astray. It will keep them from whatever they're after that will make them happen.

Crashing Them Together
The real fun comes when you turn your internal and external conflicts on each other. Because when both are fighting to get the protag to do it their way, it helps keep the story unpredictable. There are always two different paths your protag can take, and both are paths they're being yanked down by the core conflicts. Since the protag needs to solve both conflicts, you have a constant tug of war. and since each conflict will have consequences (both externally and internally), you keep your stakes escalating.

Using Core Conflicts to Plot
You might try pinpointing these two conflicts and brainstorming some ideas on how to resolve them. Think about what your protag might do and why. Ask yourself:

External Conflict:

• What is the main problem your protag needs to resolve? (the core external conflict)
• What are five things your protag might do to resolve this issue? (possible major plot points of the story)
• What are five things your protag might do to achieve each of those five things? (possible goals to drive the plot to those major events)

Internal Conflict:

• What is the internal problem your protag is facing? (personal self doubt, uncertainty, or flaw they have to overcome)
• What are five ways in which this inner problem can put your protag in an impossible choice? (potential major character growth points)
• What are five ways in which this inner problem can directly oppose one of the external problems? (potential high-stakes moments that could be act enders or set pieces)

The goal is to brainstorm, because you never know what thought might trigger the perfect plot twist. If you find something you like, but it doesn't really fit, start asking how you can make it fit, or what tweaks you can make that would allow it to work in your story.

Don't force anything, but don't be afraid to go several layers deep into any problem. And keep looking for ways to bring that external and internal conflict together and making your protag choose. Growth comes from sacrifice and struggle, and having them sacrifice one side for the other will have long-lasting repercussions -- and great plot ideas.

View to a Skill: Understanding Point of View

I remember the moment when POV (point of view) clicked for me. Years ago I was talking to a writer friend of mine (Juliette Wade), and she was explaining one of her comments in a critique she'd done of my WIP. I don't remember the exact sentence anymore, but it was something like...

She came around the corner and saw the rowboat tied to the dock piling.

Juliette's comment was along the lines of: "Did she know the rowboat was there? Because "the" implies prior knowledge, and I don't think she was looking for it or knew it was there."

Now, I had no clue what she was talking about. Prior knowledge? Huh?

She went on to explain that the word "the" implied that my POV character knew there was a rowboat there. It's wasn't "a" rowboat (which implies generality, just something she happened to see) but "the" rowboat (which implies it's a known thing to her before she saw it).

Something as simple as "the" vs "a" showed how much my POV knew about that one silly little rowboat. If she didn't know it was there, she couldn't call it "the" rowboat. She'd have no prior knowledge of it. It would be no different than any other object around.

I finally got it.

That's POV. Those subtle words that let readers know what a character knows.

If my narrator had been looking for a rowboat, then "the" would have been the right word. The rowboat was known to her, she expected it, she was looking for it.

If my narrator had no idea a rowboat existed, then "a" would have been the right word. She didn't know about it, wasn't expecting it, wasn't looking for it.

It always blows my mind how simple and subtle this is.

When you're writing a character, what they know is different from what you know, or even what the other characters in the scene know. What words you use to convey what a character knows affects POV.

A rich girl who lived her whole life in a mountain palace probably has no clue about the basics of a poor fishing village. (and vice versa) She won't refer to things by slang terms, or even proper terms. They aren't known to her.

POV is showing what's known to a character.

That's the holy grail of POV. It works in first person or third omniscient. Close or far narrative distance. A character can't talk about something they don't know of as if they knew it. And they wouldn't explain something they know so well they don't even think about it anymore. Do you think about the workings of a cell phone when you make a call? No, you just push the buttons and make a call.

Do they know it? If so, they'll refer to it however they feel about it. If they hate it, that'll show. Fear it, that'll show, too. Don't care one whit -- that will also show. It also allows you to show what's normal in that world, because anything not remarked upon in any special way is obviously not special. Something your POV finds amazing is a clue that it really is amazing in that world.

Do they not know it? They'll have to decided right there how they feel about it. Try to make sense of it. Judge it, categorize it, whatever they do when they see something. That might be noticing it and never thinking about it again, or it might be a life-altering experience.

Forget write what you know. Write what the character knows.

Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes. The Edit Letter

I had planned to do POV today, but I got my edit letter back for Shifter 3 (yay!) and it seemed like a good time to talk about that. I know folks are always curious about what an editor asks for and how revisions at a publishing house work.

So what is an editorial letter?

It's a letter from your editor that covers all the thoughts, comments, and suggestions about your manuscript. Edit letters vary according to who's writing them, but mine have been very straightforward so far. This last one had four paragraphs of overall thoughts, followed by a chapter by chapter breakdown, about one paragraph for each chapter. Additional general comments were interspersed through those as well.

My letter comes in an e-mail as opposed to a Word file, but I pasted it into Word for a page count to give you an idea of size. It was ten pages, single spaced, with breaks between paragraphs. From what I understand, this is pretty average. They also say it's better to get a long edit letter, because those usually have specific things to fix, which means the book only needs revisions. A short letter often means the changes are major and rewrites are needed. (As in, it takes fewer words to say "the whole first half needs to go")

There's a good example in the overview that I can share that doesn't give anything away about the book:

But perhaps because we are wrapping up the fates of so many characters and trying to build a new story, I did find that things got a bit confusing in places. So as you’ll see, overall I’m suggesting streamlining and simplifying quite a bit: the number of characters involved in various situations; Nya’s motivations and arc; the focus on the enemy; and some of the action. The latter you are especially so skilled at describing, but sometimes I am going to suggest a breather here and there so we feel the full emotional impact of various scenes. I’m also suggesting tightening up the beginning quite a bit…

Those who have heard me talk about the challenges of book three will clearly see she mentioned things I knew were going to be an issue and things I knew I'd have to work on.

Then why did I turn it in without fixing those?

Because I wanted her feedback on what things were working and what she felt could go. The manuscript came in at 95K words, which is about 25K longer than the first two. I can see book three being a little longer since it's the final book, but it was bloated. Streamlining was utterly expected. Plus, I've worked with my editor long enough now to know that she has an exceptional eye for pacing and story development. Before I went to all that work to hack and slash, I wanted some ideas on where the best places were to cut.

Important note: Turning the manuscript in knowing it needs work is not something you do if you are still trying to get an agent or editor. My editor already bought the book. It's her job is to help me make my book better. That was our deal. It's also the last of a series. Deal or no deal, had this been a stand alone book, I would have made darn sure it was as perfect as possible before I gave it to her.

I'd also like to mention that, for me, the "cool" subplots were often ones that introduced new characters, so they felt fresher than the ones that are the story's core. I was reluctant to cut those new ones because they felt more exciting. But now that I've been away from the story, and I read my editor's comments, I can clearly see the fresh stuff was just bogging down the story. They were my way of working on something "new" while writing a story I've lived and breathed for the last three years. Stuff you've read over and over never feels as fresh as stuff you just wrote. This is why folks advise letting your work sit for a while before you do any revisions. You really need that distance to be objective. Things you didn't even see while you were writing, jump out after a month or two away.

Let's look at the comments and what they mean for me as a writer.

I did find that things got a bit confusing in places.

She gives specifics in her chapter breakdown, so my job is to clarify those areas and make sure they read as intended. Some of these spots will be simple text edits because I didn't explain well enough, but others will be be motivation issues. Why was Nya doing X? Character actions that didn't seem plausible. And just instances where too much was going on at once. No matter where the crit comes from, I always fix clarity issues.

I’m also suggesting tightening up the beginning quite a bit…

She had some later comments about this as well I can share:

In general in these first 8 chapters (which I’m hoping can be boiled down to maybe 3-4 (grin) let’s keep introduction of characters to a minimum – for instance do we need X, X, or X?

The first eight chapters are Act One in this book. So I need to focus on ways to tighten up the first act, and she suggested a few ways to do that, and a target size to shoot for. I find it interesting that four chapters is what my typical Act One is. So those extra 25K words I mentioned earlier? Get rid of those and Chapter Four is exactly where the first big catalyst moment usually occurs. Odds are, the final draft of this book after I tighten will be the 70K-ish words like the first two.

She also suggested characters that can go. Cutting one of them would easily save a lot of words because he involves a subplot that takes place in Act One. He's also a new character, so there's no ties to past books that would be affected. I need to look at the whole story in more depth of course, but my first reaction is to cut that character and his subplot, which frees up a lot of words.

Questions were another common type of comment:

Should we know earlier that there is a clear plan here – to (XXX). I feel like the goals are becoming a little obscured in the various episodes.

Obviously I didn't lay enough groundwork or set up the motivations well enough. It's not what's happening that she has issues with, it's how I got there and why. Odds are, tightening up the beginning and getting the character arcs lined up more strongly will have fixed this, but it's something I'll need to check on and make sure that Nya's motivations and plans are unfolding in a clear and logical way.

I hope everyone notices that these comments are pretty casual. They're just like things your crit group or beta readers would say. They're specific, but not about how I do something. She never says "cut X character." She sees characters that aren't serving the story and asks if we really need them. Of the three she mentioned, one can certainly go, one will definitely stay, and one is iffy. I'd like to keep the third, but they might just muddy things up. But I can also keep an eye out for places they can show up later that might serve both sides: tightening the first act for my editor, and keeping that character for me.

I'll probably go into more detail about how I'm going to tackle these edits, but that's for another Wednesday. Anyone have questions about this process?

Breaking Through: Dealing With Writer's Block

I always feel a little guilty when I say I don't get writer's block (and a little like I'm tempting the writing gods) because I know a lot of folks struggle with the words sometimes. But so do I, even if it doesn't make me feel blocked.

Some days the words don't come, and that's okay. It might last a few days or even a few weeks, but I've never let it bother me. I know that sometimes I need a break, or I need to figure out a plot point or character or situation. I've found that when I stress over this, it just makes it harder to get past it. So I made a choice not to get writer's block. Instead, I get stuck.

We're word people. Stuck is a temporary situation. Stuck is a delay. Blocked is more permanent. Blocked is being forced to stop. It may sound silly, but words have power. Thinking "I'm blocked, I may never write again" is terrifying. Thinking "I"m stuck, how the heck am I going to get out of this?" is just frustrating. I can deal with frustrating.

Being stuck also points you toward ways to get unstuck. Try thinking about what you're stuck on. Some of the more common areas include:

Stuck on What Happens Next
There's a good chance this is a plot problem. Not knowing what the protag wants will definitely grind a story to a halt. Try looking back at your core conflict, that big problem the whole book revolves around. Have you strayed from this issue? Trace your story back to the last moment when things were moving forward. Now look to see where you went off track. There's probably a moment there somewhere where your protag decided to do something that sent the story into a dead end. Try rewriting from that moment and choose a different path.

Stuck on Why it Matters
This is likely a stakes issues. Not knowing why your protag would do what they're doing, or not having it matter if the win or lose, makes a story feel pointless -- and aimless. Try looking at your stakes for this scene. Have you lost sight of why it matters to your protag? Is there no consequence for achieving or failing? Go back to a time when it did matter and pinpoint that moment when things stopped being important. Why did they? Did something about the character change? The story? Sometimes we run an idea into the ground and keep chasing a subplot because we were already running in that direction anyway.

Stuck on Why Any of This Would Happen in the First Place
This is often found when planning a novel, though it can happen at any time. It's usually a back story or world building issue. You have a situation, and some cool ideas, but no reason for any of it to occur. Stakes can also play a role here, but these types of issues are frequently systemic. There's a critical piece of the set up that needs fixing so the story can unfold as you want it to. Try looking at your world, whether it's made up or real. Are the right environmental conditions there for this situation to happen? Economic or political conditions? Are the external forces causing your protag down the right path? (as opposed to them heading in a direction that no sane person would logically go) You might just need to do a little more world building.

Examine the problem. Determine what the trouble is. Start looking at ways to change that situation. Stuck is all about trying different things until you get unstuck. Some may help you pop out right away, others might not help at all. But everything you try gets you one step closer to freeing yourself.

Is This Dream On?

The last two years has been interesting. Halloween was the second anniversary of signing with my agent, and my second novel, Blue Fire, just came out. The final novel of the trilogy is with my editor, and I joke that soon I’ll technically be an unemployed author since book three fulfills my contract. Looking forward, I wonder if the next two years will be as interesting as last two.

There will certainly be differences. I won’t have that joy of having agents request my full manuscript, but I could have the excitement of editors asking for one. I won’t have the worry of “can I sell my novel?” but I will have, “can I sell this novel?” after I write something new. I’ll have the anticipation of hearing what my crit group thinks of my new manuscript versus what reviewers think of my new book. And the fear that goes with that, because that never seems to go away, even if it no longer bothers you when someone says something negative.

The last two years have been as tough as they have been wonderful. The validation of having a real life agent wanting to represent me soothed all those rejections scars and gave me a much-needed boost of confidence. But the fear of letting her down caused more than a few sleepless nights, especially during my second-book slump, when Blue Fire was an utter mess and I was sure I’d never get it right. Working with my editor and seeing how her suggestions improved my book made me want to push myself to live up to her expectations. Which only made her push me even harder.

Two years of highs. Selling The Healing Wars trilogy was a dream come true. Getting that first ARC of The Shifter. Seeing the books in the stores next to some of my favorite writers. Having actual fans email me. Going to schools and talking with students about writing and my books. Seeing a book signing poster at the bookstore with my face on it. I’d always felt like a writer, but these things made me feel like an author.

Two years of lows. The inevitable bad reviews (because not everyone likes every book). Struggling to write Blue Fire. Having my crit group tear it to pieces. Knowing they were right and being unsure how to fix it. Missing my deadline and feeling like I was letting my editor down, even though she said this was perfectly normal on a second book. The fear that I couldn’t do this now that I finally achieved my dream. The exhaustion from pushing myself harder and harder to make up for lost time.

I’m at an interesting point right now. Knowing what I know about publishing and all the work that goes into it, I can decide if I want to keep doing it. I could just walk away once my contract is done. Never submit another manuscript, say goodbye to my agent. Write for fun and not worry about sales numbers or reviews or whether if I’m doing enough marketing and promotion. I can ask myself, do I really want to be an author?

Abso-freaking-lutely.

Even though it’s sometimes hard, keeps me up at night, and stresses me out. Because that’s a small part of it, and every job has parts that make you crazy. And my day job has kept me up all night, stressed me out, and made me crazy a heck of a lot more than writing ever has.

Being an author is the best job I’ve ever had. I’m ready for the next two years.

Oh yeah, bring it on.