KN Magazine: Articles
Literary Alchemy: Ingredients of the Story – Conflict
In this installment of Literary Alchemy: Ingredients of the Story, Chrissy Hicks explores conflict as the driving force behind compelling fiction. From internal struggles to external battles, she breaks down how conflict shapes character, builds tension, and mirrors real life—offering practical techniques and examples to help writers craft stories that keep readers fully engaged.
A series designed to elevate your skills and empower you to write like a pro.
By Chrissy Hicks
Since April is tornado season in Tennessee, it seemed a suitable time to examine this essential element of storytelling. Conflict is the struggle between opposing forces. We encounter this through mental battles and external forces.
Why use Conflict?
A story without conflict is boring. Imagine if Yossarian never left the hospital in Joseph Heller’s Catch-22? For one, we wouldn’t have the classic novel that became a popular catchphrase. More importantly, it’d be a giant yawn. Who wants to read a story where nothing happens?
Escalate tension and keep the reader on the edge of their seat. The type of conflict—its level of intensity—depends on genre. In literary fiction, internal struggles are often emphasized over external challenges, while in thrillers, although internal dilemmas are important, external conflict often takes center stage. Consider TJ Newman’s thriller, Falling, in which a pilot is given an impossible choice: crash his plane, killing hundreds, or witness the murder of his kidnapped family.
Provide character insight. Internal conflict creates good use of interiority and helps us relate to characters. External conflict causes people to react, and these reactions show us their character and personality. In Michael Rigg’s Voices of the Elysian Fields, Jonathan Gray, a deputy coroner, struggles with grief over the traumatic loss of his child and anger at a broken, bureaucratic system (internal struggles), and fights through obstacles as he investigates connected events that reveals dark secrets within the city’s elite—people who will do anything to stop him (external battles).
Art imitates life, and life is hard, complex, challenging, and conflicted. Simply put, conflict reflects real life. It’s intertwined with human experience. Not a day goes by without some sort of obstacle or difficulty, whether we like it or not. In my short story Baby’s Breath, a pregnant woman struggles to cope with an eating disorder while carrying her firstborn child, and deals with external pressure from a concerned boyfriend and the looming responsibility of motherhood.
How and When to Use Conflict:
Conflict is the backbone of a good story. It forces characters to act; it can result from characters’ actions (or inactions), and it can come from anywhere, showing up in subtle or explicit ways. For the sake of example, I’ll split this section into two: Internal vs. External.
Internal
Moral Dilemmas: Gray areas create drama. Bill Hoffman’s family was kidnapped—and he can do absolutely nothing about it because he’s flying a plane. But that’s not his biggest problem! The major conflict comes from the abductor’s ultimatum: the only way to save his family is to crash the plane. (Falling).
Granted, not all moral dilemmas are this extreme. Take, for example, a young pregnant woman struggling with bulimia. A recent visit to the doctor reveals she’s losing weight. She promises she’ll eat more, but can’t overcome the bulimic urges, despite her desire to care for her unborn child. (Baby’s Breath).
Identity crises: Self-image, beliefs, and desires can create enough conflict to fill volumes. Yossarian constantly searches for connection and meaning in the face of war. In the chaos, he grapples with his identity as a soldier while overcome by fear. (Catch-22).
Emotional struggles: Conflict reminds us we are less in control that we’d like to be, and some people will go to great lengths to avoid it. Instead of dealing with her past, Bella copes by bingeing and purging. “I’d been fine on my own, had everything under control, a high honors student on a fast track to pharmacy school; my bingeing and purging episodes perfectly strategized.” But the statement alone is contradictory—despite trying to convince herself and others she’s fine, Bella’s less in control that she believes. (Baby’s Breath). However, other characters find strength by turning their anger, sorrow, jealousy, or bitterness into action. Dr. Gray’s personal loss drives him to channel his heavy grief into activism. (Voices of Elysian Fields).
Unreliable (or biased) Narrators: Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth? “Facts” told by a narrator aren’t often as black-and-white as presented, and an unreliable narrator can skew our perception, and the reality for those around them, creating conflict from their biases, lies, and little ‘t’ truths. Consider Rachel—an unemployed woman struggling with alcohol—who witnesses a shocking event that leads her to dig into a missing persons case, but can she trust what she saw? Or is her mind too far gone? (The Girl on the Train).
External
People vs. People: Conflict can arise from characters’ actions or inactions. Aren’t we often the root of our own problems, too? Yossarian’s conflict isn’t just with the enemy he fights during WWII, but with those around him. He is constantly up against Cathcart, who represents the absurdity of bureaucracy, as well as Milo, who’s manipulative and solely focused on turning the war into a profit-gaining enterprise. (Catch-22).
People vs. Society: This includes conflict stemming from cultural norms, traditions, or laws, economic wealth, or disparity. Dr. Gray contends with a bureaucratic system that has neglected the coroner’s office. Inadequate space leaves them dealing with bodies piling up (literally). His situation is exacerbated by corrupt politicians whom he suspects are at the core of a scandal. (Voices of Elysian Fields).
People vs. Nature (Setting): Setting itself can be a character, and sometimes, an antagonist. In Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, the bleak, ash-covered landscape acts as an adversary. Throughout much of this story, father and son grapple with natural forces, and the environment emerges as a significant character.
People vs. Supernatural: Spirits, ghosts, demons—anything not of this realm can be a source of conflict for our characters. In Claire Fraise’s They Stay series, the protagonist is up against supernatural forces, and she interacts with ghosts (both friend and foe). These paranormal elements are the backbone of all conflicts within the series.
People vs. Machine: With the ever-constant rise in technology, we see this form of conflict played out daily. When the pilot drifts in and out of consciousness, Jo battles to land a plane with instruction from the tower; in this instance, the machine (the plane) has become a grave antagonistic force and the stakes are heightened—if she fails, everyone dies. (Falling).
Lookout!
Observe how conflict unfolds in your favorite movies and books. Study both internal and external conflicts and how they play out. If the internal conflict isn’t stated or obvious, can you infer a character’s inner struggles based on their actions and reactions to outer circumstances? How does the author or director make use of this device? Was it effective? How can your understanding of what they did help you accomplish the same?
Prompt
Develop a character facing two conflicting desires. Perhaps he wishes to be closer to his girlfriend, who’s moving to New York for a dream job, but doesn’t want to leave his quiet life on a Pennsylvania farm. Then, choose from the list of external conflicts above and add that element. Perhaps ghosts come to settle on the farmland, disrupting his peaceful life. Or just as his girlfriend lands in New York, an autonomous AI-controlled technological barrier encircles the entire state, preventing anyone from entering or leaving.
Further Reading:
https://literarydevices.net/what-is-the-main-conflict-a-quick-guide-for-writers/
https://literarydevices.net/internal-conflict-explained-a-literary-device-for-writers/
https://writershelpingwriters.net/2025/12/four-moments-when-you-should-hold-the-conflict/
https://writershelpingwriters.net/2025/08/strengthen-your-story-with-conflict/
Literary Alchemy: Ingredients of the Story – Misdirection
In “Literary Alchemy: Ingredients of the Story,” Chrissy Hicks explores the art of misdirection and how it fuels suspense, deepens character, and delivers unforgettable plot twists. Through examples from classic and contemporary fiction, she breaks down techniques like red herrings, unreliable narrators, and omission, showing writers how to guide readers toward false assumptions before revealing the truth in surprising yet satisfying ways.
A series designed to elevate your skills and empower you to write like a pro.
By Chrissy Hicks
Misdirection is a sneaky literary device that leads readers to believe one thing while hiding the truth. Consider the shocking betrayal on the Ides of March, when Caeser’s best friend stabbed him in the back. Et tu Brutè? Likewise, you want your reader to never see it coming.
Why use Misdirection?
Maintaining suspense is a primary reason to use this mechanism. Keep your audience guessing what happens next. In Lest She Forget, by Lisa Malice, the main character awakens from a coma with no memory. The storyline is chock-full of misdirections, as readers are thrust into a twisty narrative with one reveal after another, often contradicting what we (and the protagonist) originally believed was true.
Big reveals will be more impactful when the truth contradicts earlier assumptions. Through clever misdirection, you can achieve the coveted “plot twist” reviewers can’t stop talking about! In The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald), even the title hints at the main character’s rise and perceived success, leading readers to expect the realization of his dreams. Yet the true nature of Gatsby’s wealth and George’s mistaken identity, leads to a tragic ending which comes as a shock.
Show complex character traits by exposing their true nature only when the time is right. Consider the classic by Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None. Dr. Armstrong initially comes across as competent and professional, but his past indiscretions are later revealed: operating on people while drunk and covering up his involvement in a patient’s death. These reveals create uncertainty and suspicion.
This technique mirrors the uncertainties of real life. People often make erroneous judgments based on incomplete information. At the start of my flash piece Overdue, Marty assumes he’ll quickly find something he can pawn from a suburban house in a well-to-do neighborhood, but the outside doesn’t match what he finds on the inside.
How and When to Use Misdirection:
Utilize misdirection by introducing seemingly factual information which later proves deceptive, paving the way for shocking plot twists that captivate and surprise your audience. This can be done through:
Characters’ Secret Pasts: Clues of a character’s past can seem innocent until pieced together for a bigger reveal later that exposes their secrets. For example, Dr. Armstrong presented as a trustworthy doctor. His claim of not knowing a patient was a lie (though the reader doesn’t know this yet): “The name meant nothing to me when it was spoken. What was it Clees? Close? I really can’t remember having a patient of that name, or being connected with a death in any way.” It wasn’t until people were picked off one by one by an unidentified murderer that the survivors confronted him, and his deception was revealed, leading to a tense scene where his past failures were exposed. (And Then There Were None).
Setting: Consider how you can use the expectations of a setting and flip them upside down. “Marty crept toward the two-story cookie-cutter house in the quiet cul-de-sac... Rumors had painted the residents as well-off... he needed the extra cash rich people left out—a purse on a table, a coin jar on the counter...” The reader, like Marty, encounters anything but the norm they presumed:
Entering the dining room, Marty’s heart sank. A handwritten grocery list lay abandoned on the table, shoved aside a stack of bills stamped ‘overdue’ in violent red ink. The familiarity hit him like a gut-punch. They were trying to survive. (Overdue).
Unreliable (or biased) Narrators: In The Great Gatsby, Nick Carroway, though not entirely “unreliable,” idealizes Gatsby, focusing on his dreams and aspirations while glossing over his flaws and the moral decay. Because we only see the story through his biased perspective, readers are misled regarding Gatsby’s true nature, such as his involvement in illegal activities and his obsession with Daisy.
Subplot: A subplot that distracts from the main conflict can create an excellent ruse. For example, in Lest She Forget, a mysterious visitor arrives, leaving the protagonist unsure whether he’s there to protect or harm. What’s more, there’s an underlying attraction between them, hinting at a possible past relationship. This thread keeps the reader guessing about their true connection and adds to the protagonist’s confusion. The reader is left to wonder whether this subplot is part of the major conflict or something else, and leads to a surprising discovery.
Red Herrings: Red herrings are misleading elements that divert readers by suggesting something through foreshadowing or clues about a character’s intentions, goals, or traits, ultimately revealing all is not what it seems.
In Christie’s book, we question Dr. Armstrong’s innocence when we discover the poor choices in his past. When Captain Phillips is accused, readers are distracted and pointed away from the true killer.
In Malice’s book, several women died during the blizzard, and we suspect a cover-up regarding the protagonist’s survival, though the motives remain unclear. The mysterious visitor could be friend or foe, and the protagonist must rely on her gut instincts for survival. All these point us away from the truth and further into the protagonist’s confusion and terror.
A subtler red herring in Fitzgerald’s book, is Gatsby’s wealth: the focus on this and his extravagant parties detract the reader from what he’s really after (Daisy) and the illicit origins of his fortune.
At the start of my flash piece, readers might perceive Marty as a typical burglar, but when he breaks into the house, he’s confronted with his own traumatic past and a startling revelation about the family he’d planned to rob.
Omission: What’s said is often as important as what’s left unspoken. Consider what a narrator leaves out, or what a character fails to notice. By the time you drop your plot twist, your readers won’t have seen it coming, but it should still ring true. When Nick tells Gatsby, “I thought you inherited your money,” Gatsby replies that he’d lost most of it in the panic of the war, then adds nonchalantly that he’s been in several things and changes the subject: “‘Do you mean you’ve been thinking over what I proposed the other night?’ Before I could answer, Daisy came out of the house and two rows of brass buttons on her dress gleamed in the sunlight.” The reader is immediately drawn to Daisy, and we’ve forgotten all about Gatsby and his “business affairs.”
Lookout! 👀
Be on the lookout for signs of misdirection (through red herrings, omissions, secrets, etc) in your favorite movies and books. Consider how the author (or director) accomplished the use of this device. Was it effective? What hooked you and made you turn the page or keep watching? How can your understanding of what they did help you accomplish the same?
Prompt 📝
Write a scene where your protagonist is misled by another’s actions. The actions could suggest this secondary character is heroic or villainous, then twist this so the protagonist realizes the character is the opposite of what they initially believed. The reveal should be surprising but believable, stemming from a misunderstanding rather than an implausible shock.
Further Reading: 📚
Literary Alchemy: The Ticking Clock
A ticking clock can turn an ordinary scene into a pulse-pounding race against time. In this installment of Literary Alchemy, Chrissy Hicks explores how deadlines—whether explosive, subtle, or psychological—heighten tension, sharpen character development, and eliminate the dreaded muddy middle. From 24 to The Woman in Cabin 10 and The Da Vinci Code, this craft article shows writers how urgency transforms plot momentum and emotional stakes.
A series designed to elevate your skills and empower you to write like a pro.
By Chrissy Hicks
The “ticking clock” is a narrative device that introduces a time constraint or deadline, heightening tension and urgency in a story. It compels characters to act quickly, often leading to dramatic stakes and heightened emotional engagement. This device not only propels the plot forward but also immerses readers in the characters’ race against time, making every moment feel critical.
Why Use the Ticking Clock?
To effectively use this technique, include a deadline—whether it’s something drastic like a timed bomb, or something more subtle, like a bus arrival or cigarette break—the type of deadline will depend on your story’s plot. This can create:
Heightened tension since a looming deadline creates a sense of urgency that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. In 24 (TV Series), Jack Bauer’s race against time to thwart terrorist attacks amplifies the stakes, making each second count.
Further character development as the pressure of a ticking clock reveals a character’s true nature, showcasing their strengths and weaknesses. In The Woman in Cabin 10 (Ruth Ware), Lo Blacklock frantically attempts to get the crew to take her seriously about a crime she’s witnessed. If she can’t convince the crew or find evidence of the crime before docking, she risks losing the chance to address the situation entirely, as the potential perpetrator could escape or cover their tracks.
Gain plot momentum and lose the muddy middle. Time constraints can drive the plot forward, forcing characters to make quick decisions that lead to unexpected twists and turns. In The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown), Robert Langdon, is thrust into a race against time to solve a murder mystery. The urgency is heightened by the fact he must decipher these clues before a powerful organization can act on their own agenda.
Pacing is enhanced with this method, because it creates a sense of rhythm that propels the narrative forward. This urgency keeps readers eager to turn the pages, as they feel the pressure alongside the characters. When Lo finds herself trapped below deck, readers are wondering what will happen next and if she’ll escape before the boat leaves the dock (The Woman in Cabin 10).
How and When to Use the Ticking Clock:
To incorporate the ticking clock into your narrative, consider the following techniques:
Set Clear Deadlines: Establish a specific time frame that characters must adhere to, whether it’s a countdown to an event, a deadline for a mission, or a race against an impending disaster. “I am going to ask you one last time. Who are your co-conspirators? You have until the count of three, or I will kill you” (24).
Create Consequences: Make it clear what’s at stake if the deadline is missed. This could involve personal loss, failure of a mission, or even life and death situations. “The answer was Trondheim. . . All I had to do was make it until dawn.” (The Woman in Cabin 10).
Use Real-Time Elements: Consider employing real-time storytelling, where events unfold in sync with the ticking clock, enhancing the urgency and immediacy of the narrative. “Gray... people in this country are dying, and I need some answers. Are you gonna give ‘em to me or am I gonna have to start hurting you?” “Actually, you're hurting me now.” “Trust me, I'm not” (24).
Incorporate Flashbacks or Foreshadowing: Use these techniques to reveal past events or hint at future consequences, deepening the emotional impact of the ticking clock. “Now, with over four million copies of The Way in circulation in forty-two languages, Opus Dei was the fastest-growing and most financially secure Catholic organization in the world. Unfortunately, Aringarosa had learned, in an age of religious cynicism, cults, and televangelists, Opus Dei’s escalating wealth and power was a magnet for suspicion.” (The Da Vinci Code).
Lookout
Pay attention to how the ticking clock is used in movies you watch and books you read. Analyze how the author or director builds tension and urgency. What techniques do they employ to keep you engaged? How can you apply these insights to your own writing?
Prompt
Write a scene where a character faces a looming deadline that forces them to make a critical decision. What if you condensed 24 hours to 15 minutes? Consider how the pressure of time influences their choices and the emotional stakes involved.
Further Reading:
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