Move 1
Name the collision, not the topic
A conflict is a want pressing against an obstacle. Force the sentence: “___ presses against ___,” with two concrete nouns — her vow presses against her ambition; the farm presses against the mortgage. If your sentence holds only one noun (“the story is about loneliness”), you have a topic, not a pressure. Go back and find what wants, and what says no.
Move 2
Test the level
The visible opponents — two brothers, a wife and a husband, a town and a newcomer — are rarely the whole conflict. Beneath the surface pair, look for the abstract one: duty against desire, the past against the future, a person against a form of time. Rewrite the conflict at every level you can defend from the lines you have underlined, and keep both. Strong essays run surface and depth together.
Move 3
Follow the pressure after the loud scene
Conflict does not stay where it erupts. The quarrel in chapter two resurfaces in how one brother speaks to his son a decade later; a mother’s grievance settles into the good china nobody is allowed to use. After any confrontation, ask three questions: who went quiet, who began doing small things differently, and which object started meaning something it never said.
Move 4
Read the pressure in the grammar
Pressure registers in sentences before it registers in events. Watch the adversatives — but, yet, still, nevertheless — that carry a sentence’s real cargo; the negations (never, no longer, not anymore); the hedge that pulls a claim back mid-air; and the sentence that spends its whole length on trivia while the real question waits outside it.
Pressure in the grammar — a made-for-this-sheet pair
StatedShe wanted to ask him to stay.
DisplacedShe asked whether he had eaten, and refilled his cup while he answered.
The second sentence is twenty words of cup; the request never gets its clause. Displacement like this is not the absence of conflict — it is conflict paying rent in grammar.