Writers in the Storm

A blog about writing

storm moving across a field
6 Ways Your Setting Can Create Conflict

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

No matter what form it takes, conflict is at the core of every story. It’s part of what drives the plot, and it’s what makes readers eager to read on to see if the protagonist succeeds. Characters face problem after problem, and with each trouble found, they’re forced to make tough decisions about what to do next. It’s this constant flow of dealing with problems that keeps the story moving.

But conflict also exists in the world around the characters which has nothing to do with them personally—it’s just the inherent conflict of the world. The setting can be rife with problems that prevent your protagonist from solving her problems and even add to her internal conflicts.

These environmental conflicts are the issues and situations that make it harder for the protagonist to face the challenges of the novel. Getting food when you live in a big city is different from getting food if you’re lost in the woods with no gear or survival training. Dealing with a backstabbing co-worker during a team-building ride in a hot air balloon is more problematic when you’re terrified of heights.

Let's say you have a scene where you want your protagonist to feel uncomfortable because she's confronting a coworker who just stabbed her in the back at work over a promotion. She’s uncertain about her actions, because it could backfire on her and create more trouble than losing a promotion.

Where would you set it?

The most obvious choice is at work, since that's where she interacts with this person. She'd likely do it somewhere familiar to her, because she'll want a position of strength for this confrontation. But that means she'll be in familiar and safe territory, which will probably keep her calm and lessen her apprehension of this meeting. Being calm and feeling safe will not add conflict to this scene, so the setting is doing nothing to help it.

Instead, let's move this meeting to a location that puts the protagonist at a disadvantage, so the stakes go up and the tensions are raised. Instead of work, let's choose a place that makes her uncomfortable and let the setting reflect the emotions we want both the character and the reader to feel.

For example, if she wants to confront the coworker in private, let’s force her to confront her coworker in a public place where anyone might overhear. What she’s willing to say to someone in private changes when she has to say it in a room full of people. If she's a recovering alcoholic, we'll send her into a bar where drinks are flowing heavily. If she dislikes kids, we'll make her attend a birthday party for twenty ten-year-olds. Whatever triggers her discomfort is a potential setting, because it will add another layer of difficulty to her objective.

If we use the environment to push the emotions of the protagonist to new heights, we'll make her goals harder to accomplish, which adds conflict and raises tensions, since it's far more likely something will go wrong.

Let’s look at some ways you might use your setting to add conflict to a scene.

1. Choose a location that puts the protagonist at a disadvantage.

Look for places that will force the protagonist into a position of weakness. It might be on the enemy’s turf or an unfamiliar location, as long as the setting strips away whatever inherent advantage the protagonist might have had.

2. Choose a location that has inherent conflict of its own.

If there’s conflict all around, that naturally spills over onto the protagonist and her current problem. A war-torn land, office politics, political strife, even the teenage cliques and social hierarchy of high school can provide additional challenges to solving a problem.

3. Let the environment add another layer of difficulty to the task.

Weather can be an interesting factor here, as overcoming a challenge is usually much harder when the weather is bad. Unfamiliar terrain is also a problem that could hinder achieving a goal, such as being in a new city, or being forced to go out onto a lake when you’re not sure how to sail—or swim.

4. Let the setting mirror or echo the emotional state of the character.

Tone and mood can be useful tools here, with stormy weather or creepy locations adding atmosphere, but the setting can also contain elements that resonate with the protagonist’s current conflict. A reconciliation dinner with a loved one who betrayed you is going to be much harder if there’s a couple at the next table who is clearly having an affair.

5. Use an environment that presses one of the protagonist’s buttons.

If there’s something that sets off your protagonist, why not have elements of that during a difficult time? If your amateur sleuth has strong views on sexism, put the witness she needs to question behind the bar during a wet t-shirt contest. Give her reasons to trigger a side of herself that will cloud her judgment or color her opinions.

6. Use a setting that shows others having a similar conflict.

Being stranded by a delayed flight at the airport is a pain, but being one of thirty passengers all upset over the delay exacerbates the problem. Tensions rise and everything becomes more difficult. People who would have normally been agreeable don’t want to compromise. Sometimes, problems shared do not ease the burden at all.

Environmental conflicts are often smaller elements of the story, but they can add a rich and textured aspect to that story. Take advantage of what your environment can do to layer in emotions, create conflict, and make a character really work to resolve her challenges.

Because sometimes the world really is out to get you, and just getting through the day is a huge challenge.

What ways have you used setting to create conflict in your stories? Do you have examples of how other authors have used setting to amp up the conflict?

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Janice Hardy is the award-winning author of the fantasy trilogy, The Healing Wars, and multiple books on writing, including Understanding Show, Don't Tell (And Really Getting It), Planning Your Novel: Ideas and Structure and Revising Your Novel: First Draft to Finished Draft. She's also the founder of the writing site, Fiction University. For more advice and helpful writing tips, visit her at www.fiction-university.com or @Janice_Hardy.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Indie Bound

 

Looking for more tips on creating conflict? Check out my latest book Understanding Conflict (And What It Really Means), an in-depth guide to how to use conflict in your fiction.

Janice Hardy takes you deep inside one of the most important aspects of storytelling--conflict. She'll help you understand what conflict really is, discuss the various aspects of conflict, and reveal why common advice on creating conflict doesn't always work.

With in-depth analysis and easy-to-understand examples, Understanding Conflict (And What It Really Means) looks at how to develop and create conflict in your novel. It also explores the things that affect conflict (such as tension), and the misconceptions that confuse and frustrate so many writers.

Understanding Conflict (And What It Really Means) is more than just advice on what to do and what not to do—it’s a down and dirty road map to how conflict works, designed to help you create the right conflict for whatever genre you're writing. By the end of this book, you’ll have a solid understanding of what conflict means and the ability to use it to craft strong and compelling fiction.

Read More
Cringe-worthy Reader Questions

Ella Joy Olsen

Answers for Those Awkward Conversations with Readers

My whole life I’ve had a star-struck, rock-star admiration for authors. Before I even imagined writing a book I’d pour over back flaps, studying author bios and photos, wondering how much of the novel was inspired by real events.

While I drafted what would become my debut: Root, Petal, Thorn, I dreamed readers would savor the subtle connections and deeper themes in my novel, like I’d done as a reader over the years. They’d ask insightful questions and I’d provide profound answers. They’d know me via my story and I’d know they loved it.

I was in for a Reality Check.

Yes, I’ve had fantastic conversations with readers about my work, but in truth many conversations (especially those which occur in passing) are far from the imagined ideal. Below is a list of the most Frequently Asked Questions, my canned Answers, and What I’m Really Thinking:

Q: How is your book doing? How many copies have you sold?

A: It’s hard to track all of the sales but I think it’s doing well. Enough. *modest shrug*

Really Thinking: I have no solid idea. Turns out it’s very difficult to determine how many copies are sold until that twice-a-year statement arrives. And even then the royalty statements are difficult to read. In this age of constant connection I believe this royalty system should be a little more precise and if not more precise, more transparent, and if not more transparent, at least more timely.

Q: Have you made a lot of money?

A: Not enough to pay the mortgage. Turns out most published authors make less than $10,000 a year. *smile as they gasp in horror*

RT: After I finished Root, Petal, Thorn (but before I got an agent) I must have lived in a bubble. I guess I didn’t read the proper blogs about a typical advance. I dreamed of taking all of my beta readers (and their families) on a far-flung vacation to thank them for their help (I was thinking a Greek Island). About this time I went to a small, local conference where one giddy woman had just sold her book to an actual publisher. I was in a bathroom stall as she stood at the sink washing her hands, discussing her advance loudly over the rushing water. I stopped mid-stream to hear her say, “Seven Thousand Dollars.” I couldn’t finish.

I found that girl later at the conference to confirm. Face pulsing from embarrassment and fingers crossed behind my back that I’d misheard, I stuttered, “If you don’t mind me asking, I overheard you say you received an advance of $70,000. Is that typical?”

She laughed. She actually spit a little of her Diet Pepsi into her hand. “Drop a zero.”

Huge reality check (sadly not a huge advance check…)

Q: I have this great idea. You could write a book about it and we could share the money. You see, there’s this guy and he…

A: *listen quietly for five minutes, then break in* That is a great concept! But it’s really your story to tell.

RT: If you only knew how many fantastic ideas I have. Coming up with story nuggets is the very best part of writing a book because they’re all so perfect at conception. The real work is taking that shimmer of an idea and turning it into 90,000 words.

Q: I found several mistakes in your novel. Things like the true syndication date for The Brady Bunch. I’ve made you a comprehensive list on my Goodreads review.

A: Thank you. I’ll take a look. A team of people read the book before publication but we’re all human.

RT: Are you kidding me? I better also see five stars!

Q: I’ve written six hundred pages about my great-great-great grandfather’s journey from Norway to the United States. I’m wondering if you’d give it a read and provide a little feedback?

A: Actually, you would be better served finding a group of other writers who are at the same place in their writing process. I currently have a group of beta readers who I work with.

RT: No, oh lord, no!

Q: My grandma loved your book but I didn’t read it.

A: Grandmas tend to love my book but so do a bunch of young people. You should read it.

RT: Was she being rude? I think that was a subtle dig. She thinks my book is boring.

Q: The cover isn’t something I’d pick up. Did you choose it?

A: I didn’t. The publisher has the last say about cover art.

RT: The cover for Root, Petal, Thorn wasn’t exactly what I imagined when I wrote the book, but it grew on me over time. I’m still working to embrace the cover image for Where the Sweet Bird Sings. I wish I had more input on my cover art but sometimes we authors don’t always get what we want.

Q: In your second book, where does the title Where the Sweet Bird Sings come from?

A: The story is about secrets hidden in the branches of a family tree. That’s where the sweet bird sings, you see, in a family tree. It’s a search for identity through ancestral and genetic records. It’s about accepting and loving a family even after betrayal, even after tragedy. I hope you read it!

RT: See above. I do hope you read it!

What are the craziest questions/observations you’ve received from your readers? What is a question you’d like to ask your favorite author?

*     *     *     *     *

Ella Joy Olsen was born, raised and currently resides in Salt Lake City, Utah, a charming town tucked at the base of the massive Rocky Mountains. Most at home in the world of the written word, Ella spent nearly a decade on the Board of Directors for the Salt Lake City Public Library System (and four decades browsing the stacks). She is the mom of three kids ranging from just-barely-teen to just-flown-the-nest-teen, the mama of two dogs, and the wife of one patient husband.

Though she’s crazy about words Ella is also practical so she graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in Finance. After years analyzing facts and figures Ella gave up her corner cubicle and started writing fiction. Fun fact: she now teaches a historical fiction course at her alma mater. She has also lived in Seattle, Washington & Savannah, Georgia.

ROOT, PETAL,THORN (September 2016) was her debut and coming in September 2017 – WHERE THE SWEET BIRD SINGS.

Connect with her on her website http://www.ellajoyolsen.com/

Follow her on Twitter https://twitter.com/ellajoyolsen

Or on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/ellajoyolsen/

Like her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ella.joy.olsen.author

 

Read More
4 Tips for Translating Critique-Speak

Kathryn Craft

Turning Whine Into Gold

 Bad experiences have damaged many a writer’s trust in critique partners. I get it. Peer reviewers may bring uneven skills and questionable talents to their assessment of your work. But as a practiced reader, each has something to contribute.

To unlock the gold hidden within their feedback, you must first learn critique-speak, an indirect mode of communication in which what people say is not always what you should hear. You might have to dig to find the nugget that’s of use.

  1. Skip the solution but heed the feedback.

In offering feedback on a memoir piece that became the basis of my novel The Far End of Happy, advance readers loved the actions of a woman who insists on divorcing her husband after his suicide—but they “didn’t need all that stuff about the farm.” Problem was, the piece, Standoff at Ronnie’s Place, was absolutely about the farm—and I was submitting it in answer to a journal’s call for pieces about setting!

Oops.

I had to choose: scrap the project, or dig deeper to find the real problem. I chose the latter.

What I heard: “Your description is getting in the way of your story.”

Translation: “If you want setting to be important, I need greater orientation to this story by building characterization through setting detail.”

The public had spoken: I had not yet achieved my goal of using the setting to carry the emotional weight of the essay. After I went back to the drawing board, the piece got published.

  1. Look where the arrow is pointing.

In reading an early version of The Far End of Happy, a critiquer told me I could cut eight pages of backstory with one of the mothers—it was irrelevant. Despite how it felt, she did not aim that arrow at my heart. It was pointing toward a problem with story structure.

What I heard: “I got bored and started to skim.”

Translation: “This material does not feel tied to the character’s story goal.

I did not cut the material because the three-POV structure was meant to examine what brought each of the characters to the high-tension twelve hours of the novel’s front story. But that was my author goal, not the character’s goal. In revision, I made sure those pages felt relevant to the reader by raising questions about this woman’s past that showed the way her past seriously compromised her current goal.

  1. Novels are not meant to be read one chapter per month.

Have you read Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander? Oh my, I gobbled that one up. I stayed up late and got up early, operating on only three hours of sleep as I pushed to the end. I effusively recommended it to my husband, who, upon finishing, really didn’t see what the hype was about. Why? He read it over the course of two years, 1-2 pages per night! This makes a difference.

 National Book Award-nominated author Diane Johnson pointed this out when she was my mentor at Sewanee Writers’ Conference. My first “forever in a drawer” novel was strong enough to gain me entry to the juried conference, yet while there I would learn it was woefully overwritten. Diane determined the reason: my critique group met each month to review one chapter at a time, a span too long for readers to retain continuity. I revised accordingly (read: mistakenly).

“No novel can stand up to that kind of scrutiny,” she said. A novel is an accumulation of cause-and-effect, questions raised and answered, expectations met and dashed—and so much more. That accumulation needs a chance to succeed.

What I heard: “I can’t recall the details of your novel from month to month.”

Translation: “This method of critique isn’t working anymore.”

My solution was to switch from a monthly critique group to full manuscript swaps. Since then I have received much more useful feedback.

  1. Warning: gang mentality may be at play.

In-person workshopping is a social activity. When one of your critiquers doesn’t get what you are trying to do—meaning she reads your piece and feels clueless as to what it is about—she is unlikely to admit it in front of the others. Worse, if someone does admit their cluelessness, a feeding frenzy can begin, piling one negative thing onto the next so the clueless readers can assuage their insecurities by dumping on you.

What I heard: “I was confused about the story so I corrected your grammar.”

Translation: “This story did not invite me on its journey. I need to know what your character wants and what incited that desire so I can root for him throughout the story’s complications.”

Why don’t critiquers just say what they mean?

Well, they do. But it’s up to you to learn to speak the underlying language, and then improve the piece based on that. And guess what? This dynamic will still be in play when your manuscript gets to a publishing house. So practice your translation skills now!

 

Do you have any horror stories from the critique trenches you’d like to share? What peer review model do you use and why does it work for you?

*     *     *     *     *

About Kathryn

Kathryn Craft  is the award-winning author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy, and a developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com, specializing in storytelling structure and writing craft. Her chapter “A Drop of Imitation: Learn from the Masters” was included in the writing guide Author in Progress, from Writers Digest Books. Janice Gable Bashman’s interview with her, “How Structure Supports Meaning,” originally published in the 2017 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market, has been reprinted in The Complete Handbook of Novel Writingboth from Writer’s Digest Books.

Read More

Subscribe to WITS

Recent Posts

Search

WITS Team

Categories

Archives

Copyright © 2026 Writers In The Storm - All Rights Reserved