The Art of Conflict in Crime Novels

Jackie Sharp
Jan 8
6 min read

I am often asked why I write crime novels instead of say, romance or fantasy. “Are you obsessed with the dark side of life? With gory murders maybe?

PD James once said that to be a crime novelist is to be obsessed with creating order out of chaos – I’m paraphrasing the quote here – and that the solving of the crime, the good beating out evil – it’s making sure that in our fictional worlds at least, everything can be fixed.

For me, that is just part of it. For me, it’s the conflict that I’m fascinated by. Not just the obvious conflict between perpetrator and victim, or even protagonist versus antagonist – but the internal conflicts, the moral dilemmas, the struggle that we all face to some extent in our real lives.

Conflict is the heart and soul of any gripping crime novel. It is the driving force that propels the story forward, keeping readers on the edge of their seats, desperate to know what happens next. As crime writers, it is our job to masterfully weave conflict into every aspect of our stories, creating a tapestry of tension that captivates our audience from the first page to the last.

To understand how to effectively use conflict in our writing, we must first delve into the psychology behind it. Conflict taps into our primal instincts, triggering the "fight or flight" response that has been hardwired into our brains since the dawn of humanity. When we read about characters facing perilous situations or grappling with difficult decisions, we can't help but feel a visceral reaction, as if we are right there with them, experiencing their struggles firsthand.

This emotional investment is what keeps readers hooked. They become invested in the characters' journeys, rooting for them to overcome their challenges and emerge victorious. As writers, our goal is to create conflicts that are so compelling, so emotionally charged, that readers simply can't look away.

One of the most powerful tools in a crime writer's arsenal is internal conflict. This is the battle that rages within a character's own mind, the psychological tug-of-war between their desires, fears, and moral compass.

To craft compelling internal conflict, we must create characters that are multi-dimensional and relatable. They should have flaws and weaknesses, just like any real person, but they should also have redeeming qualities that make readers want to root for them.

For example, a detective who is brilliant at solving crimes but struggles with alcoholism and a crumbling marriage is a character rife with internal conflict. On one hand, they are driven by their desire to bring criminals to justice and make the world a safer place. On the other hand, they are haunted by their own demons, constantly battling the urge to numb their pain with alcohol and the guilt of neglecting their family.

This type of internal conflict adds depth and nuance to a character, making them feel more human and relatable. It also creates a sense of unpredictability, as readers are left to wonder how the character will navigate their personal struggles while also trying to solve the crime at hand.

In my Coffin Cove mystery series, my protagonist, Andi Silvers faces personal conflict when she is fired from her job as a reporter at a large media company and is forced to take a job at a tiny local newspaper in a small fishing town. It’s her adjustment to losing her high -powered career and relationships, the way she deals with being humbled and how she picks herself up and the lessons she learns along the way that move the story forward as much as the mysteries she solves.

While internal conflict is the beating heart of a character's journey, external conflict is the engine that drives the plot forward. External conflict refers to the obstacles and challenges that characters face from outside forces, whether it be a cunning villain, a corrupt system, or the harsh realities of the world they inhabit.

In crime novels, external conflict often takes the form of a high-stakes cat-and-mouse game between the protagonist and the antagonist. This could be a detective trying to track down a serial killer before they strike again, or a lawyer trying to prove their client's innocence in the face of overwhelming evidence.

The key to creating compelling external conflict is to raise the stakes as high as possible. The more dire the consequences of failure, the more invested readers will become in the outcome. If a detective fails to catch the killer, more innocent lives will be lost. If a lawyer fails to exonerate their client, an innocent person will go to prison. These high-stakes situations create a sense of urgency and tension that keeps readers on the edge of their seats.

Another way to heighten external conflict is through the use of setting and atmosphere. A crime novel set in a gritty, poverty-stricken neighborhood will have a very different feel than one set in a wealthy suburb. The former might deal with themes of corruption and gang violence, while the latter might explore the dark secrets lurking behind the façade of picture-perfect families.

The setting can become a character in its own right, creating obstacles and challenges for the protagonist to navigate. A detective trying to solve a murder in a tight-knit community where everyone is suspicious of outsiders will face a very different set of challenges than one investigating a crime in a bustling city where anonymity is the norm.

While internal and external conflicts are powerful storytelling tools on their own, they become even more potent when woven together seamlessly. The best crime novels use the interplay between these two types of conflict to create a narrative that is rich, complex, and utterly absorbing.

For instance, a detective's personal struggles with addiction might cloud their judgment, causing them to make mistakes in their investigation and putting them at odds with their superiors. This internal conflict then bleeds into the external conflict, raising the stakes and adding an extra layer of tension to the story.

Similarly, a character's external conflicts might have a profound impact on their internal state. A lawyer who takes on a high-profile case might find themselves grappling with the moral implications of their actions, questioning whether they are truly fighting for justice or simply seeking fame and fortune.

The key is to create a symbiotic relationship between internal and external conflict, where each one feeds into and amplifies the other. This creates a narrative that is greater than the sum of its parts, a story that is both emotionally resonant and thrilling to read.

In addition to crafting compelling conflicts, crime writers must also master the art of pacing and tension. A crime novel should be a rollercoaster ride of emotions, with moments of heart-pounding action interspersed with quieter, more introspective scenes.

One effective technique is to use cliffhangers at the end of chapters or scenes, leaving readers desperate to know what happens next. This could be a shocking revelation, a dangerous confrontation, or a character making a life-altering decision. By ending on a moment of high tension, writers can compel readers to keep turning the pages, even if it means staying up all night to finish the book.

Another way to maintain tension is through the use of red herrings and plot twists. By planting false clues and misdirecting readers, writers can keep them guessing until the very end. This creates a sense of unpredictability and suspense, as readers are never quite sure who to trust or what will happen next.

However, it's important to strike a balance between tension and relief. If a story is too relentlessly dark and grim, readers may become fatigued or desensitized to the conflict. Moments of levity, humor, or tenderness can provide a much-needed respite, allowing readers to catch their breath before plunging back into the fray.

One of the hallmarks of great crime writing is the use of subtext, the unspoken tensions and undercurrents that simmer beneath the surface of the story. Subtext is a way of hinting at deeper conflicts and motivations without spelling them out explicitly.

For example, a character's body language or tone of voice might betray their true feelings, even if their words say otherwise. A detective might have a contentious relationship with a colleague, but never directly address the source of their animosity, leaving readers to infer it from their interactions.

Subtext adds depth and complexity to a story, encouraging readers to read between the lines and draw their own conclusions. It creates a sense of ambiguity and nuance, reflecting the often messy and contradictory nature of real life.

At its core, crime fiction is about exploring the darker aspects of human nature. It is a genre that grapples with themes of morality, justice, and the thin line between good and evil. As crime writers, we must be willing to delve into these murky waters, to confront the uncomfortable truths that lurk in the shadows of society.

This means creating characters who are complex and flawed, who struggle with their own demons even as they try to bring others to justice. It means depicting the world as it really is, with all its cruelty and injustice, rather than shying away from difficult subjects.

But it also means finding moments of light amidst the darkness, of hope and redemption in the face of overwhelming odds. Because ultimately, that is what readers are looking for in a crime novel: the reassurance that even in the bleakest of circumstances, there is still the possibility of justice, of good triumphing over evil.