You've written your climax. The antagonist is defeated, the lovers reunite, the mystery is solved. You type "The End" and... something feels hollow. The resolution checks all the boxes, but it doesn't resonate. Your beta readers say "it was fine" with a shrug that makes your stomach sink.

Here's what most writing advice won't tell you: satisfying endings rarely come from resolving your main conflict head-on. The protagonist punching the villain, choosing the right partner, or solving the case might feel logical, but logic isn't what makes readers close the book with tears in their eyes or a satisfied sigh.

Robert McKee, in his seminal work on story structure, identifies something he calls the Oblique Approach to conflict—and it's the secret ingredient that transforms endings from "fine" to "unforgettable."

What Is the Oblique Approach?

McKee observed that the most resonant scenes in cinema and literature don't resolve through direct confrontation. Instead, characters pursue their goals indirectly, through unexpected angles that reveal deeper truths about their desires and values.

Think of it this way: if your character wants something, the obvious path is to grab it. The oblique path is to discover what they actually need by pursuing something entirely different—or by attempting to get what they want in a way that transforms them in the process.

The Oblique Approach operates on a principle: the surface conflict is never the real conflict. Your detective isn't really trying to catch a killer—she's trying to prove to herself she's not a failure like her father said. Your romantic lead isn't just choosing between two partners—he's deciding whether he's brave enough to be vulnerable.

When you resolve the surface conflict directly, readers feel satisfied intellectually. When you resolve the deeper conflict obliquely, they feel satisfied emotionally.

Why Direct Endings Feel Empty

Let's say you're writing a revenge story. Your protagonist has spent 300 pages hunting the man who destroyed her family. The climax arrives: she has him at gunpoint. She pulls the trigger. Justice served. The end.

Technically, you've delivered on your promise. But readers feel cheated because you've only resolved the plot question (Will she get revenge?) without addressing the thematic question (What does revenge cost? Can she rebuild after loss? Has vengeance consumed her humanity?).

Direct conflict resolution—hero fights villain, problem solved—treats your story like a legal contract. You fulfilled the terms, but you didn't honor the spirit.

Applying McKee's Oblique Approach to Endings

Here's the specific technique in three actionable steps:

Step 1: Identify your story's surface want vs. deeper need

Create two columns. In the first, write what your protagonist is actively pursuing (the treasure, the promotion, the lover, the victory). In the second, write what their journey has actually been about thematically (proving their worth, learning to trust, accepting mortality, choosing community over isolation).

Step 2: Design a climax where pursuing the surface want forces a choice about the deeper need

Your ending moment should require the protagonist to make a decision that reveals their character transformation. They can't get what they want and address what they need through the same direct action. The oblique approach means they address the need through an unexpected angle while pursuing (or abandoning) the want.

Step 3: Let the surface conflict resolve as a consequence of addressing the deeper need

This is the crucial flip. Instead of defeating the antagonist directly and then having a quiet moment of reflection, your protagonist should make a choice about their deeper need—and that choice should be what actually resolves the surface conflict.

The Technique in Action

Let's look at a concrete example. Suppose you're writing a story about a failing entrepreneur, Marcus, trying to save his startup from bankruptcy (surface want). The deeper need your story has explored: Marcus learning to ask for help instead of protecting his ego through isolation.

Direct approach (unsatisfying): Marcus works day and night, cracks the code, saves the company through sheer determination. In the final paragraph, he thinks, "Maybe I should have asked for help earlier."

Oblique approach (resonant): Marcus faces the final investor pitch—his last chance. Mid-presentation, he sees his carefully prepared slides, his perfect pitch designed to hide every weakness. And he stops. Instead of selling them his vision, he tells them the truth: he's failing, he doesn't have all the answers, and he needs their expertise as partners, not just their money. He surrenders his ego (addresses deeper need).

The investors respond to his authenticity. Some walk away—but two others offer genuine partnership. The company is saved, but not through Marcus's isolated brilliance. It's saved because he finally learned to be vulnerable (surface conflict resolves as a consequence of character transformation).

Notice: Marcus didn't directly solve the business problem and then learn his lesson. The lesson WAS the solution, approached from an unexpected angle.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Mistake #1: Separating the climax from the character moment. Don't have your protagonist win the battle in chapter 29 and then reflect on what they learned in chapter 30. The character transformation should BE the climactic moment.

Mistake #2: Making the oblique approach too obscure. "Oblique" doesn't mean "confusing." The connection between the character's choice and the conflict's resolution should feel surprising but inevitable in retrospect.

Mistake #3: Abandoning your surface conflict entirely. Some writers discover the deeper need and forget to resolve the plot question at all. Readers need both—they just need the plot resolution to emerge from the character revelation, not beside it.

Your Action Step

Open your manuscript to your planned ending. Ask yourself: "Is my protagonist directly confronting their obstacle, or are they resolving it by addressing something deeper that makes the confrontation itself transform?"

If your protagonist is simply defeating, choosing, or solving in a straightforward way, look for the oblique angle. What choice about their deeper need could make the surface conflict resolve as a natural consequence?

The most powerful endings don't just answer your story's questions—they answer them slant, from an angle that illuminates both the plot and the human truth underneath it.

That's when readers close the book and think, "Yes. That's exactly right."