Want a Stronger Story? Start with Friction
Four powerful ways to deepen conflict in a quiet novel 💫
Hi writing friends,
I recently read one of those confident 2026 prediction posts that declared fiction writers were going to move away from writing suspenseful, tension-filled scenes. Conflict would take a backseat to contemplative, philosophical stories. The argument was that readers are tired of tension and conflict because *gestures at the world*
While this line of thinking makes sense on the surface, I’m not sure I agree. Not because I don’t like quiet novels, but because even quiet, introspective stories still contain conflict. Without it, we don’t have a story. We have a situation.
Conflict isn’t really about explosions, car chases, or dramatic courtroom speeches. It’s about friction. It’s the resistance your character encounters when they want something and can’t immediately have it. That resistance is what creates uncertainty. And uncertainty is what keeps readers turning pages.
Conflict is essential—whether you’re writing a thriller or an exploration of a character’s life So let’s take a look at four effective ways to deepen conflict in a quiet story.
1. Clarify What Your Protagonist Wants (and Why It Matters to Them)
Conflict is only effective if desire is clear. A vague goal creates vague tension. It’s too abstract to say that your protagonist just “wants to be happy.” But maybe they want to open a cupcake shop on Main Street to share their grandmother’s recipes, now we’re invested in a specific goal. Plus, it’s clear if they achieve it or not. What your character wants doesn’t have to change the world. It just has to be something that can change their world. The stronger and more specific the desire, the sharper the conflict when something—or someone—blocks it. Speaking of which…
2. Identify the Obstacles
A common issue in drafts I edit is a too-easy path to success for your protagonist. Conflict requires an opposing force. There should be something or someone standing in your protagonist’s way. And this is true, even in quieter stories. Continuing the cupcake shop example: Maybe a new zoning law prevents your character from opening the store. Or maybe someone else just leased the last space available on Main Street. Or maybe your character’s cousin refuses to allow them to use Grandma’s recipe.
3. Layer Internal and External Conflict
The richest stories weave together what’s happening outside the character and what’s happening within. External conflict (a failing business, a strained marriage, an impending move) gains depth when it collides with internal struggle (self-doubt, pride, unresolved grief). Can you identify both internal and external struggles for your protagonist?
Then think about how your protagonist is going to overcome those obstacles—or not. If the obstacle dissolves without much effort, the story loses momentum. Whether your protagonist’s opposition is a rival, a societal norm, a family expectation, or an internal fear, it needs weight.
4. Escalate, Don’t Repeat
This is one tip I’ve had to take to heart in my own writing. Conflict should evolve. If your character faces the same type of obstacle in the same way multiple times, readers feel stuck. Each challenge should raise the stakes by revealing new information or forcing a harder choice.
Escalation can be subtle. If we go back to the cupcake shop example, maybe a disagreement between your protagonist and their cousin over the recipe turns into an ultimatum. Or maybe the new retail space doesn’t pass inspection.
Conflict in stories isn’t overrated, and I don’t think contemporary fiction has moved away from conflict. It’s just more refined. Today’s quieter novels prove conflict is about transformation, forcing your protagonist to make choices, and those choices reveal who they are. Let’s look at three examples.
1. In Normal People by Sally Rooney, the conflict isn’t about dramatic external events — it’s about class insecurity and emotional withholding between Connell and Marianne.
They want each other, but they repeatedly fail to say what they mean. Pride, shame, and fear distort their choices. Conflict deepens as a result of one unsent message or an unchallenged assumption. The stakes are internal but with external consequences: self-worth, intimacy, belonging. It’s quiet. It’s devastating.
What this shows: Silence can be conflict. The things left unsaid can drive an entire novel.
2. In Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng, the tension builds through clashing values rather than physical danger. The Richardson family and Mia Warren embody opposing philosophies about motherhood, art, privilege, and control. Beneath the suburban calm is a steady escalation of moral and emotional conflict.
Which brings me to another great point about conflict. Ask yourself: Who has the power and how does it impact the characters? Is the power imbalance creating layered opposition? Meaning does a character have power in one relationship dynamic and doesn’t have power in another relationship dynamic?
What this shows: Ideological conflict, when two worldviews collide, can sustain a plot just as effectively as overt antagonism.
3. In Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout, the conflict often lives inside Olive herself. She’s blunt, critical, yearning, lonely — often all at once. The action in the story consists of marriages, small-town interactions, deaths, illnesses.
But each chapter turns on emotional friction: pride versus vulnerability, love versus resentment, connection versus isolation. Nothing explodes. Yet everything shifts.
What this shows: Internal contradiction can be conflict. A character at war with their own tenderness can provide tension.
Comments are open to all. 👇 Please share any questions you have about writing conflict.
Until next time,
-Jackie
📚 What I’m reading:
I’m just starting to dig into Heart the Lover by Lily King, which I can already see is making great use of the tips listed above
🎥 What I’m watching:
The second half of Bridgerton is streaming. I’m enjoying the Cinderella trope at play in this season.
✏️What I’m looking forward to:
I’m a Star Award judge for the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and I’m excited to read this year’s submissions!
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