Conflict and I do not get along.

I’ve mastered the art of staying calm and rational if have a disagreement with someone, and I take pride in not saying anything I’ll regret later.

At age 29, I cut myself off from my friend group because they weren’t the kind of people I wanted to hang out with. Gossipy, back-stabbing, accusing each other of fabricated hurts in drama-filled rants — all of it. Now when I meet new potential friends, I watch closely for red flags and run the other way if I think they might bring the kind of drama I don’t want in my life.

I even hate the hyper dramatic reality shows that are simply vessels to show people screaming at each other and crying in a confessional.

Not. For. Me.

As a writer, conflict is a requirement. Without conflict, you don’t have a story. Sure, you can have a pleasant tale about pleasant people doing pleasant things, but no one wants to read 30 pages of that story, let alone 300 pages.

Readers want the drama.

Over the course of writing a dozen novels, I’ve learned that I need to be intentional about plotting my conflict since I avoid it so thoroughly in my life. When developing my characters, I include notes about what they want, what they’re afraid of, and what could break them. Then I skillfully* weave their conflict through the story line so while the reader may have an idea where the story’s going, they’re never fully certain.

The Edge Rules was especially fun for me to write because it featured a main character who not only said whatever she was thinking, she rarely cared about the consequences. It was freeing to climb inside her head and experience how the other half lives, even if it makes me twitchy in real life.

Despite all my planning, the first draft of my current novel severely lacked conflict. Every disagreement was quickly resolved, the tension was lukewarm, and the characters easily got everything they wanted.

In other words: snoozefest.

Fortunately my beta readers were all over it. They suggested ways to amplify the conflict, to increase the drama, and most importantly, to keep the readers unsure of where the story was headed. Editing this book was challenging, but it’s better because of it.

When I present at schools and to writing groups, one question I’m frequently asked is “how do I keep the story going?” Often they’re stuck, have writer’s block, or just aren’t sure where to go. This is how I respond:

What does your character want/desire/cherish most in the world?

Once they answer, I follow up with:

Take it away.

If it’s a physical object, destroy it. A person they’re in love with? Take the person away — or even better, make that person hate the main character. A goal or a dream? Add a roadblock they don’t think they can overcome.

This conflict — this concern that things won’t work out for the main character and overcoming the obstacle is nearly impossible — is what keeps readers turning pages.

And it’s the only kind of conflict I can handle.

*some call it skill, some call it luck.