Part II: Conflict

WARNING! SPOILERS!

My first novel, “A Delicate Situation,” about two lawyers who fall in love while opposing each other on a divorce case, didn’t sell. I can go ahead and tell you why, but first you better pack a lunch and go ahead and call off from work tomorrow, because it’ll take a while. Some of the problems–like the book’s stilted, formal language and glacier-like pace—are fixable. But one problem killed the book dead bigger than an extra large can of Raid kills bugs. One problem is the death knell for any book unfortunate enough to encounter it: lack of conflict.

“I liked the book,” said one of the seemingly hundreds of agents who rejected my poor manuscript. “But it just didn’t have enough conflict.”

“But, but … “ I spluttered. “But they argue all the time. Isn’t that enough? And it’s about lawyers falling in love while they’re litigating a case against each other. That’s a BIG conflict of interest. They could get disbarred!”

“Yeah,” she said. “But the case will be over soon and they’ll get together then. You need something stronger to make the reader think these two will never get together.”

Well, fine. Eventually I stopped trying to sell ADS and moved on to my second novel, “Trouble.” Early drafts of this book had the hero realizing within seconds of meeting her that he wanted to marry the heroine. “Uh-oh,” wrote one of the contest judges in blaring red ink as she gave “Trouble” terrible marks—and I mean TERRIBLE—in the conflict category. “You need more conflict.”

“Well, what the heck does more conflict mean?” I asked the judge in abstentia.

She thoughtfully answered this question in the comments section of the score sheet. “Think of a reason why these two wouldn’t get together even if they were marooned alone on a desert island. A reason for them each to think that the other is the worst person in the world for them to fall in love with. THAT’S conflict.”

Oh.

Interesting.

It was at about this time that I re-read my now dog-eared copy of “The Game” and had a light bulb moment of Oprahian proportions. In “The Game,” you’ll recall, Liam the pirate kidnaps Lady Katherine so she’ll be his mistress. What conflicts keep these two apart and make their Happily Ever After seem impossible? Let me count the ways:

1. She hates him because he’s kidnapped her and won’t let her go.
2. She thinks he’s a bloodthirsty pirate.
3. She thinks family honor requires her to marry a nobleman or at least a gentleman.
4. She thinks being a pirate’s mistress will ruin her chances of making a good marriage.
5. He thinks he’ll never marry and have children because of his unfortunate lifestyle and heritage.
6. He thinks he doesn’t deserve a fine lady like Katherine.

All these conflicts make for one exciting book and I started to get the picture. Every time these two reach a truce and begin to understand each other, Joyce throws a new conflict their way, ripping the rug out from under them again and again. Would any of these conflicts keep Katherine and Liam apart if they were marooned on a desert island? Oh, yeah.

Oh, and one other thing, but I have to warn you I’m about to give away a major plot point: Katherine marries someone else. That’s right. In Elizabethan England, where divorces were uncommon to say the least, Katherine marries a young, healthy man who seems in no imminent danger of dropping dead and leaving her free to marry Liam.

I remember my despair when I first read this part of “The Game.” How could she marry Liam if she was already married to someone else? How could they live happily ever after? For a few stricken moments I even wondered if “The Game” was a true romance novel because I just couldn’t see how those two would ever work out their monumental problems. At an even worse point in the novel, Katherine and Liam have a HUGE blowup and say such vile things to each other I had a hard time reading it. Again I despaired. They’d never resolve their issues. Never.

Now THAT’S conflict.

I studied some more. I attended Debra Dixon’s seminar “Goal, Motivation & Conflict” and devoured her book of the same name. Thus educated, I rewrote “Trouble” (for what seemed like the billionth time) and my agent sold it. I think I get conflict now. And since I hate to leave things unfinished, I’ve figured out how to cure the lack of conflict problem with “A Delicate Situation” and I’m going to rewrite it the first chance I get. It’ll still be about lawyers falling in love and a divorce. But this time the conflict’s going to be (I hope) explosive.

And if I do it right, maybe a reader somewhere will despair of the hero and heroine ever getting together. If so, I’ll know I’ve done my job.