I’ve talked before about the basic types of conflict and how they express themselves in a narrative. The foundation of any plot comes from the central conflict, so understanding the central conflict is key to understanding the plot and, therefore, the story as a whole. What I’ve haven’t talked about before, though, is how you tie in theme with that conflict. This, you see, is the difference between good stories and great ones: not just conflict, but thematic conflict.
Ok, so let’s start with the obvious question first: just what is thematic conflict?
As I’ve said, plot is the skeleton of a story. It gives your narrative its core, its shape, and holds the whole darn thing up. To continue this metaphor, conflict is the marrow: it’s the core of the core. It’s the juicy part that feeds the plot and keeps its healthy. A story without a central conflict isn’t really a story; at least, it’s not a very interesting one. Now, keep in mind that, when I’m talking about conflict, I don’t mean fighting. People often confuse the two. Conflict doesn’t mean confrontation. A narrative conflict appears from a character’s want or need being denied. That, by the way, is the inciting incident, the moment that triggers your story: when the want or need is denied.
As an example, let’s look at the easiest punching bag in narrative criticism: Disney. The central conflict of The Little Mermaid seems to come from Ariel’s want to explore the human world. That’s even what her big song, “Part of Your World,” states.

She wants to be where the people are. Except, if you really look closely, this is only a symptom of her true conflict. She’s unhappy, or at least, discontent, long before she encounters the prince. She has an entire cave full of human artifacts, implying that she’s been in conflict for a while. Consider also the fact that this superficial conflict of wanting to explore the human world is satisfied (at least temporarily) by Ariel’s deal with Ursula. The Sea Witch allows for her exploration of the human world, which should satisfy Ariel’s desire, her want, except it doesn’t. Look back at the scenes in which the Prince is showing Ariel around, the dinner, the trip through the town, etc. Ariel still isn’t content.

She confuses a pipe for a flute. She confuses a fork for a comb. She confuses torn canvas for clothing. She’s having fun, but doesn’t really belong. This gives us a hint of not only Ariel’s true conflict, he thematic conflict of The Little Mermaid: Ariel is an introvert. She has an excellent voice, but doesn’t want to perform with her sisters. She shuns mermaid society in favor of her isolated exploration of human artifacts. Her very first spoken lines in the film are telling Flounder, one of her only friends, to go away. She sees the human crew of a ship having fun, but only observes as an outsider.

She rescues the Prince, but when his friends approach, she retreats. Her desire to “be where the people are” is belied when she gets the chance to actually explore a human community. Go back and close-watch the film. How often does she interact with people? Almost never. This starts to give you an idea of the difference between conflict and thematic conflict.
Consider next Beauty and the Beast. Belle’s big “I want” song says she wants to go on an adventure, to explore the world. This want is apparently blocked when she is forced to become a prisoner of the Beast in exchange for her father’s freedom. That’s the central conflict of the story, but it’s only the superficial conflict. Consider what the film actually shows us. Belle’s first scene is wandering through her village, complaining about its provinciality.

She is polite, but rather dismissive of her neighbors, except for the book-seller. This is the only meaningful conversation she has with her neighbors, and it’s about books. A central feature of her first encounter with Gaston is that he is contemptuous of books and reading. In return, Belle is contemptuous of him.

Now consider her relationship with the Beast. Much of the film centers upon their romance, but when does that romance really begin? Most fans will point to the scene in which Belle tries to escape and is attacked by the pack of wolves. The Beast is wounded in resucing her and they have a moment in which she tends his wounds and the film shows us the first softening between them.

But, this isn’t romance, it’s just a lack of outright hostility. When is the first moment when Belle seems genuinely happy in the castle? The library. Beast shows her the books and, more importantly, he share with Belle her passion for them. Only after this scene does the montage begin over the “Something More” song, communicating their blossoming romance. The visual language of the film overlaps the Beast with Gaston. Both are physical men, and physically dangerous. Both are controlling of Belle, trying to force their wills upon her. Both are unsubtle, uncivilized. The film makes a clear effort to overlap the two. What differentiates them? Why does Belle feel attracted to the Beast when she is only ever contemptuous of Gaston? The books.

The Beast is a reader, like her. The conflict of Beauty and the Beast is Belle’s discontent with her village life, but the thematic conflict is her lack of peers. She’s the only reader, until she meets the Beast.
Conflict is the obvious, superficial driver of the plot. Ariel doesn’t like living under the sea, and Belle doesn’t like living in a village. Ariel wants to explore the human world, and so does Belle. Ariel makes a deal with the Sea Witch to lose her voice and get legs, Belle makes a deal with the Beast to free her father and imprison herself in the enchanted castle. Both more or less get what the seemingly want: Ariel gets to explore the human world and Belle gets to leave the village in favor of a magical adventure. But in both cases, their respective films keep going. The theme of The Little Mermaid comes from Ariel’s introverted nature. Beauty and the Beast’s theme comes from Belle’s feeling of intellectual isolation. Ariel’s story is only resolved in the big wedding in which she is integrated into the Prince’s social group. Belle’s story is only resolved when she accepts her relationship with the Beast, her intellectual equal.
Good stories have a central conflict. It has a want that is denied. But great stories have a thematic conflict. There’s that superficial want that is only a symptom of a bigger, deeper problem. Conflict comes from character interaction, but thematic conflict comes from complex characters. Ariel is an introvert and sort of makes it everyone else’s problem. She argues with her father, with Sebastian, even with her friends.

She makes a deal with Ursula, never tells the Prince what’s really happening, and almost triggers an oceanic catastrophe, all because she’d just rather be alone. Belle is an intellectual amidst peasants, and is fairly open in her superiority. She’s prideful, even a bit arrogant, and scornful of those she considers beneath her. Commentators often like to point out the flaws of the Disney princesses, but these are not character defects, their evidence of complex characterization. Cinderella is humble and obedient when just a hint of self-assertion would solve most of her problems.

Elsa is protective of her sister but only ever thinks in the short term. Tiana has goals and is a hard worker, but does almost nothing in terms of self-care. In each case, you have characters who are flawed, and those flaws express themselves through the thematic conflicts of their stories.
So, how do you write a thematic conflict? It’s both easy/simple, and challenging. Don’t be obvious and just have the character say, “I’m an introvert.” Instead, keep in mind that your character is an introvert and have that be a minor challenge in each scene. These smaller interactions will build upon each other, becoming a consistent problem for your character. In the sci-fi horror I’m writing, the overarching theme is fate vs. free will. The main character seems to have no choices in her life. She was more or less forced into her career, there was only one corporation that would hire her, and that corporation only offered her one position in one place. She apparently has no real agency, so she acts as such, deferring to others, letting the other characters make the big choices. The first scene of the book, in fact, has the characters in an automated ship (something they can’t control), and as they approach their work site, they start to realize there’s a problem. They cannot contact the facility and there’s a mysterious, unresponsive ship already docked. They seem to have no choice but to continue, except that there’s an emergency button, one that will abort their docking and return them to home. Using this button will avoid the situation, but will also get them in trouble with their employer as it consumes a lot of fuel, costing the corporation money. The idea in this situation is that the characters technically have free will (the button), but are also at the mercy of their employers and thus fear using that free will. This thematic conflict will continue through the narrative. Each time the characters, especially the main character, are faced with a choice, they’ll feel like that choice is made for them, that they have no real control over their situation when, in truth, they still have agency.
Well, this one got involved.
This weekend, I’ll be at the Oak Ridge School in Sandwich, MA, for the Castleberry Sandwich Summer Craft Festival.
On a separate note, The Southern Invasion should be available any day now. The editing and formatting is all done. I’m just waiting on the final cover from my artist. I’ll be updating this website with a new sample chapter and links once everything’s set, and I’ll do a special announcement. After this, I’ll be focusing entirely on this new project, the sci-fi horror. Hopefully, I’ll be able to have it out before Halloween.

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