For my short story students, I often start with the idea that a story needs conflict.
Not all, but most fiction that we read is driven by conflict of some sort. A character (or characters) want something, and something stands in the way. Desire unfulfilled…that’s conflict.
Then, too (and this is important)… something should be at risk. The character stands to lose something—their life, their significant other—so what’s at risk of being lost is significant. It's a question to think about: If the protagonist tackles the conflict poorly, what do they stand to lose?
Your story should contain conflict and risk.
Let’s come back to conflict, though.
In a story, the character will often experience two levels of conflict. There is the surface conflict (which often appears fairly quickly), and there is the deeper conflict (which often reveals itself over the course of the story and is tied to character development). The surface conflict comes from outside the character (externally), while the deeper conflict is from within the fabric of themselves (internally). In the deeper conflict, the character is always struggling with or against some aspect of herself.
Deeper conflict comes from within.
The two conflicts often play off of each other too… the surface situation is often a way for the character to get at their deeper conflict.
I think all of this makes more sense when considering an actual short story. Let’s think about Raymond Carver’s short story, “Cathedral.”
If you haven’t and you wish to, you can read it: here
Even if you don't read the whole thing, just read the first couple sentences. The surface conflict (the visitor) is made plain. He does not want this guy coming to his house!
The surface conflict is made clear pretty quickly (this works with the idea of in medias res... starting a story by dropping the reader into the "middle" of things). An old friend of the wife’s is coming to visit, and the husband doesn’t want him to. It especially bothers the husband that her old friend is blind.
One also discovers fairly quickly that the marriage is not in very good shape. It seems like they are on the brink of divorce.
The story has a deeper conflict, too. The husband’s deeper conflict is with himself, and it’s spilling out into other aspects of his life, including his marriage. He’s a pessimistic person. He has no real faith or beliefs, and he is unable to commit himself to anything. His internal defeat is showing itself in his nightly drinking, his nightly weed smoking, and in his isolation.
Despite his gallows humor throughout the telling of the story, he is a broken man in an existential despair. He is among Thoreau’s “mass of men."
It is within the deeper conflict that the true risk arises. The main character in “Cathedral” stands to lose just about everything… his wife, his only connection to other people.
In most stories, the risk involved arises from the deeper conflict in the character. The surface conflict of “Cathedral” – the visiting blind man – will eventually end. But, the main character’s wallowing and inertia are ongoing and are putting him at true risk of continuing to lead a life of “quiet desperation.”
Notice, though, that the surface conflict and the deeper conflict run parallel in the story. It is the circumstances and immediacy of the surface conflict that draws out the main character’s unaddressed deeper conflict. Once his wife falls asleep, the husband is much more honest with their blind visitor. He admits to being unable to describe a cathedral, unable to have faith or find value in his job beyond a paycheck… he admits that, overall, “…it’s hard, you know…” Life is hard. Much easier to just give up.
The main character, as a result of his blind visitor, inadvertently speaks his despair into the room. The circumstances of the surface conflict (the visitor) draw out the deeper conflict (the existential defeatism).
And then, the two conflicts have their convergence. Robert, the blind visitor, suggests that they could draw a cathedral together. The husband will draw, and Robert will let his hands ride atop the husband’s so he can “see” the cathedral as its drawn.
It becomes an act much more about the main character, not Robert, "seeing" that there is still joy and mystery in life if one takes the risk of committing to a course of action, even while fighting doubts. The husband could have simply said, “No, I can’t draw a cathedral.” But, he commits himself to the act. He draws. He lets the blind man’s hands ride his own. It might be brief, but he opens himself to the mysteries and beauties of life. He admits, "It was like nothing else in my life up to now."
And, if he can do it once, he can do it again.
The satisfaction in “Cathedral” becomes the exploration of the deeper conflict, as triggered by the circumstances of the surface conflict. The conflict starts from outside the main character (Robert’s visit), but – like with most stories – it ends up being an inward journey into deeper territory
This thinking about the various levels of conflict, I often apply to my teaching of short stories, but it’s applicable to most fiction. The deeper conflict is connected to character arc and how your character changes over the course of the work. To understand your character’s deeper conflict, you have to truly understand your character. The deeper conflict is a result of your character’s history and personality.
But, the surface conflict triggers the story.
As you look at the short story you are working on (or any work of fiction)… can you name the external, surface conflict? How about the deeper conflict. Understanding those conflicts and how they eventually can converge can help lead you towards a satisfying ending.
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