What drives a story? The obvious answer is conflict, which simply defined, is when a desire is opposed by another, contradictory desire. Almost always, this initial desire is a part of a character, the protagonist, and as such, their desire drives the story. That which opposes them may be another character, society, nature, technology, the supernatural, or themselves. These six classifications comprise the usual categories of literary conflict, and while they may vary depending on who you ask, they are nonetheless useful categories, indeed.

However, they specifically refer to the conflict as it functions in the literal plot, as opposed to how it affects the larger story. In other words, while they tell readers what comprises a story on a surface level, they don’t do quite as much to specify the story’s themes.

Regarding this, I find it more useful to separate conflicts into one of two categories: external and internal. The most important thing to note about these categories is that, in fact, most stories have both. And before I get into defining each term, I will preface with a personal statement, that I think any story that doesn’t have both is significantly lacking something. Finding the correct balance between the two is, in my mind, one of the most important challenges that any storyteller faces when drafting their work. Hopefully, you will see why in my examples and explanation.

An external conflict is that which substantiates the most surface level of a story’s conflict. It is, expectantly, driven by the external actions of characters and entities. A straightforward example is wanting to climb a mountain. It is an action that a character is driven towards, and thus, the quest to complete that action becomes their desire that substantiates the conflict.

An internal conflict is, conversely, much more personal, and literarily, much more subtextual. The deep-set desires of characters tend to make up a story’s internal conflict. For example, a character may want to climb a mountain, but why? Do they feel a need to prove themselves? If so, to who? Are they running away from something? There could be something at the top of the mountain, but then, why do they desire that thing?

You might have noticed from my wording of the last paragraph, but what I interpret the most integral aspect of internal conflict to be is not in existing by itself, but instead in asking “why?”. An external conflict is certainly more engaging than an internal one on a surface level, but without a reason for a character to harbor their desire, a story can quickly become shallow and without purpose. It is for this reason that I consider both types of conflict to be critical in crafting a complete story.

To give an example of this dynamic in motion is, truthfully, all too simple of a task. A few immediately come to mind: Fate/stay night is both the story of a novice mage trying to survive a battle royale with much more capable mages, and also the story of a boy crippled by survivor’s guilt trying to find a justification to live; The Empire Strikes Back is both the story of a rebel army fighting back against their oppressors, and also the story of a young man struggling with both the responsibility and temptations of power; Neon Genesis Evangelion is both the story of humanity’s vanguard protecting the world against extraterrestrial invaders, and also the story of a teenage boy trying to find a semblance of self-worth. For a more in-depth analysis, though, I will be going with a bit of an older story: Lord of the Rings.

The external conflict of Lord of the Rings is the battle against Sauron and the forces Mordor. It is an immediate and pressing threat that poses a physical danger to every character. The likes of the orcs and uruk-hai have a deep-set desire to eliminate humanity, and thus, the characters must fight, and be victorious, if they are to survive. This conflict is pretty clear-cut, and comprises the black-and-white morality that most people associate with the early fantasy in Tolkien’s likeness, as opposed to more modern dark fantasy, like A Song of Ice and Fire.

The internal conflict of Lord of the Rings, the one I find to be much less talked about, is expectantly much more specific. The One Ring is a thinly-veiled symbol for greed and pride, and its temptation is one that the characters must overcome if they are to be victorious. Thus, the conflict is the struggle for the characters, primarily Frodo and Sam, to resist that temptation. More thematically speaking, it is the larger struggle to resist the temptation of greed, to have the self-control to say “no” to the prospect of ultimate power.

Unfortunately, this kind of conflict has been deemed “boring” by certain audiences, resulting in a much heavier focus on external conflict in a lot of popular storytelling. To go back to Lord of the Rings for an example, one could argue that there is a much greater focus on Aragorn in Peter Jackson’s film trilogy than in the original novels. Even though Frodo and Sam are the chief heroes of the story, their conflict isn’t as driven by action as Aragorn’s is. As such, Aragorn’s conflict is often given greater attention, in a certain sense. This is something that even an enormous fan of these films such as myself must admit.

I can see two reasonable arguments as to why this is the case: one being that Jackson and his team were adapting the story to better appeal to a modern audience, or the other being that this change is the natural result of the story being molded to fit its new medium. Films are naturally much better at portraying visual action than novels, whereas novels are better at portraying a character’s internal thought process. This difference in medium can be seen in many stories. Certainly the one most relevant to me is the Fate/stay night visual novel and its consequent anime adaptations, which I consider overall disappointments that fail to capture most of the complexities of the novel, particularly the intricacies of the protagonist.

Is internal conflict doomed to be forever overshadowed in visual mediums like film and television? Well, I don’t necessarily think so. As I mentioned earlier, Neon Genesis Evangelion and The Empire Strikes Back are examples of stories with powerful and emotional internal conflicts, as well as exciting action-driven external ones; one of these is an animated television show like the Fate/stay night adaptations, and the other is a live-action film like Lord of the Rings.

It’s clear to me, then, that the medium is not the deciding factor when deliberating the prominence of a story’s internal conflict. With enough passion and imagination, a storyteller can make any medium tell a deeply personal story, captured within the enticing frame of a journey filled with excitement.

I will briefly repeat the point I made at the beginning of this piece: I think any story that doesn’t have both an appealing external conflict and a complex internal conflict is significantly lacking something. It is a storyteller’s job to draw potential readers into their story, but at the same time, it is their job to write something that is interesting enough that readers will remember it for a decently long time. This balancing act between both accessibility via simplicity and memorability via complexity is a challenge that every storyteller faces.

The best storytellers are those that are not only able to do both well, but are able to entwine the two conflicts together in such a way that they appear one and the same.