Evangeline Holland

Sweeping Drama ⚜ Larger than Life History ⚜ Exquisite Romance ⚜ Diverse Perspectives
August 15th, 2013

The Three Types of Conflict in Romance Novels

As I brainstormed the revision for Yours Very Truly, I happened to stumble upon this bit of writing advice I saved to my hard drive two years ago. I had an “Ah ha!” moment, because I realized this was the missing ingredient in my MS.

I am so upset that I cannot find who wrote this article/blog post–a Google search (and with multiple phrases in quotation marks!) turned up no trace of the author. So if you recognize this as your own or that of someone you know, please leave your/their name in the comments so I can attribute this to you/them!

1) There are three types of conflict in romance novels.

To be honest, I feel like I should have known this already. I’ve read the books everyone always recommends about conflict (such as GMC by Deb Dixon), and as a writer, I definitely understand the concept and importance of conflict. Still, I’m pretty sure a light bulb went off in my head when I heard that there are THREE and not just TWO types of conflict:

a) Internal conflict

b) Conflict between the romance hero and heroine

c) External conflict

The “aha!” moment for me was in discovering that the conflict between the hero and the heroine is not enough to act as the external conflict. I’m usually not the sort of authors who writes about murders and mysteries, so I’ve been pretty happy with having my external conflict come from the hero and heroine. To know that there is something else expected and that the external conflict doesn’t have to be a murder or mystery is truly eye-opening to me. This has also done amazing things for the book I’m currently working on. After going to this workshop, I brainstormed with my critique partner about the external conflict and can already tell that it’s a much stronger story.

Think of the external conflict as another layer to the story. For example (and I’m pulling this out of thin air), imagine that Joe and Sue already have conflict between them as hero and heroine because he’s upper class, she’s lower class, and neither trust each other because of their backgrounds. This type of conflict increases the emotional and sexual tension. Then throw in the external conflict–Sue wants to pretend to be higher class because she’s in love with another man, but Joe knows the truth and is determined to reveal her true identity (of course, he later decides he doesn’t want her to succeed because he loves her 😉 ). Make her circumstances dire so that she HAS to win the other man not only because she thinks she loves him, but because her family will lose everything (of what little they have) and the crass truth is she needs his money. Make this urgent, and make Joe’s determination to prevent her from succeeding just as urgent. This is real external conflict. The conflict between hero and heroine come from a personal level (what has happened between them that they are at odds at the beginning?) and the external conflict adds a layer of depth to the story that increases the tension between the two (even if Joe and Sue realize they’re in love, maybe she can’t marry him because he’s impoverished).

Again, I swear a light went off in my head as my brain wrapped around this concept.

2) To resolve conflicts, TRUST is more important than LUST.

Another simple concept, but also eye-opening for me. I have to admit that writing conflict between the hero and heroine is very easy for me (and fun!), but resolving that conflict is not as easy. Having someone say that the hero and heroine need to trust each other at the end of the book is something I believe I *knew*, just not something I fully understood. The romance reader wants to close a book believing in the HEA, and it is our job as writers to give that HEA to them by showing that the hero and heroine have a future together not just because they feel like they’re in love or because they can have a dozen babies, but because they’re able to trust each other and stick together no matter the downfalls throughout a future relationship. (If you haven’t read UNLOCKED by Courtney Milan yet, I highly recommend it; you’ll see how she masters this toward the end of the novella.)

The fantastic thing about becoming a plotter (which I’m slowly working toward) is that if you know your conflicts ahead of time, then you can draw upon these to plan the perfect way to resolve them–a resolution that is meaningful to your characters’ fears and motivation, and one that ends with the characters trusting each other despite the conflict that has occurred between them in the past.

February 25th, 2013

On Novel Beginnings

I hate beginnings.

Whenever I contemplate beginning a new MS, I always feel as apprehensive and doubtful as I did when I contemplated when and how to jump into the swiftly swinging jump ropes for Double Dutch. With Double Dutch, I usually forced the turners to stop and let me start the jumping inside of the ropes. Ironically, it was when I tried to start double dutch the easy way, I’d always get tangled in the ropes, and the few times where I gathered enough courage to jump in with the ropes already swinging, I’d do pretty good.

But I digress.

I’ve always envied authors who can start a book with a witty one-liner (“Only one kind of marriage ever bore Society’s stamp of approval. Happy marriages were considered vulgar, as matrimonial felicity rarely kept longer than a well-boiled pudding.” *) or with an elegant, scene-setting, character-revealing turn of phrase (“The events that would drop Emma Hotchkiss–verily sink, she might have said–into a quagmire of sin and crime began on the first sunny day she’d seen in a week as she galumphed gracelessly across a green Yorkshire field in the vicar’s unbuckled muck boots.” *).

Granted, it may have taken countless rewrites and revisions to wrestle those opening lines out of their fingertips, but the heart of the matter is that I obsess and stress over opening the book justright more than I do over any other part of writing a book! Even more stressful is that I dream endlessly of my MSS before I sit down to write them, and getting the words to match the vision in my head is like chipping away at a huge block of marble with the world’s tiniest hammer and chisel.

To combat my time-wasting efforts to perfect this one part of novel writing, I’ve devised a few tactics (brain tricks) that keep me from banging my head against my keyboard.

One is to write an incredibly detailed synopsis from start to finish. I consider this my “zero draft,” because I’m essentially getting the book out of my head without worrying over word count or prose. From there, I can see where I want to take my characters and chart the progression of their story arc, which then allows me to pinpoint what I want to convey with the opening line. The other tactic is somewhat similar to the first one, but is less pre-planned. I forget where I picked this up–possibly Edittorrent–but in short, I write down what I want to accomplish in the scene I am writing so I have a rough idea of the scene’s purpose. This in turn helps me pinpoint my opening and closing lines for each scene, since a scene is comprised of a beginning, a middle, and an end. It’s breaking writing down into bite-sized chunks that help me build the MS brick by boring brick (™ Paramore) as opposed to viewing its construction as one long vista of undefined work!