I called it “alternative conflict” in Monday’s post, but a better monicker might be “problem-free conflict,” because it pops up over and over again in literature, TV, and film. Usually, it’s used alongside the more traditional character problems.

“But character problems cause conflict,” I hear you objecting. “How can you have conflict without character problems?”

Well, actually, this introduction itself is an example of problem-free conflict. But first, let’s look at a more obvious example.

Looking at my “to-read” bookshelf for something to read after slogging through Nora Roberts’s Northern Lights… Would someone remind me: why exactly am I reading this? I’m nearing the end, but the end can’t come quickly enough. Right now, I’m rating it at about 2½ out of 5, because the prose needs momentum and the characters need personality. (All except for Bing, who actually does have personality. But he’s not even a secondary character.)

Looking at my “to-read” bookshelf, for an intelligent and engaging novel to enjoy, I discover that I have precious few books by the kind of authors I have most enjoyed: indie authors, unknown authors, and mid-list authors. These are authors of the kind who have blogs, and Twitter and Facebook accounts, who enthusiastically engage with fans, who would love for me to mention them here.

So I will.

Here are some of the authors whose work I have enjoyed, and which I expect to enjoy:

How do you write moody stories? How do you imbue your prose with overwhelming emotion? It’s all about manipulating the feelings of the audience. Over the next couple of weeks, I want to look at different ways to set the mood. This week, using expectations to set the mood.

This week, something a little different, a dichotomy Kate Wilhelm mentioned in her book Storyteller. It has been mentioned on at least one other podcast. It’s not so much a dichotomy as two story dimensions. As Kate Wilhelm points out, both are important. I want to explore both, and I want to take this lesson and apply it to other story forms.

“Someone was looking at me, a disturbing sensation if you’re dead.”

If I tried really hard, I might be able to find something wrong with this story. But why would I want to work that hard? After just finishing A Certain Slant of Light by Laura Whitcomb, already I want to start over again from the beginning. So seldom do I run across a story this well put together, I can’t help but gush a little. I even emailed Laura Whitcomb to tell her how much I enjoyed it.