The Problem Every Writer Faces
You know that sinking feeling, right? You're 60,000 words into your novel, or reaching the climax of your short story, and suddenly you realize you have no idea how to end this thing. The beginning was brilliant. The middle had momentum. But now you're staring at the cursor, wondering why every potential ending feels either too neat, too messy, or just... wrong.
Here's the uncomfortable truth: most writers struggle with endings because they approach them as separate entities, something to figure out when they get there. But what if the secret to powerful endings isn't in the ending at all? What if it's hidden in the combination of two seemingly different writing philosophies?
Let me introduce you to a game-changing approach that merges Robert McKee's Oblique Approach to conflict with Stephen King's disciplined Daily Word Count method. Together, these techniques create a framework for endings that feel both earned and inevitable—the kind that make readers close the book with a satisfied sigh.
Understanding McKee's Oblique Approach
Robert McKee, author of Story and legendary story consultant, argues that the most powerful conflicts aren't head-on collisions. Instead, they're oblique—indirect, unexpected, coming at the protagonist from angles they didn't anticipate.
Think about it: In real life, we rarely face our problems straight-on with perfect clarity. We're blindsided by consequences we didn't foresee. We solve one problem only to create another. We think we're fighting for one thing when we're actually desperate for something else entirely.
The oblique approach means your protagonist's journey toward their goal creates unforeseen complications. The conflict doesn't come from a mustache-twirling villain blocking the path—it emerges from the protagonist's own choices, their blind spots, and the complex web of cause and effect.
For example, in Breaking Bad, Walter White doesn't just fight drug dealers. His descent into darkness creates oblique conflicts with his family, his self-image, and ultimately his own humanity. Each solution generates new problems from unexpected directions.
How This Applies to Your Ending
When you employ oblique conflict throughout your story, something magical happens: your ending writes itself organically.
Instead of forcing a climactic showdown you've predetermined, the ending emerges from the accumulated weight of all those indirect complications. The protagonist must finally face the real conflict—often an internal one they've been avoiding all along.
The key insight? A satisfying ending doesn't resolve the surface-level goal the protagonist started with. It resolves the deeper, often unspoken need that's been driving them beneath the surface.
Your protagonist might "win" but realize they've lost what matters. Or they might "lose" but gain something more valuable. The oblique approach ensures your ending has layers, complexity, and emotional resonance rather than simple victory or defeat.
Enter Stephen King's Daily Word Count
Now here's where writers often go wrong: they understand this conceptually but struggle to execute it. They know they need complexity and depth, but when they sit down to write, they freeze. They overthink. They revise before they've even finished a first draft.
This is where Stephen King's philosophy saves the day.
King is famous for his disciplined approach to writing: 2,000 words a day, every day, no excuses. But the genius isn't just in the consistency—it's in what that consistency creates. When you write daily with a word count goal, you don't have time to overthink. You have to trust your instincts and keep the story moving forward.
More importantly, this approach lets you discover your story as you write it. You're not locked into a predetermined outline. You're creating a living, breathing narrative that surprises even you.
The Magic Combination: Process Meets Philosophy
Here's how these two approaches work together to solve your ending problems:
1. Set your daily word count goal (King suggests 2,000, but start with whatever feels challenging yet achievable—even 500 words is fine)
2. Write forward with oblique conflict in mind (constantly ask: "What unexpected complication could arise from my protagonist's last choice?")
3. Trust the accumulation (those daily sessions build toward an ending you couldn't have outlined in advance)
4. Let the real conflict emerge (somewhere around the two-thirds mark, the deeper issue becomes clear)
5. Write toward emotional resolution, not plot resolution (your daily practice has built enough momentum to carry you there)
The daily word count keeps you from overthinking. The oblique approach ensures you're building complexity. Together, they create endings that feel both surprising and inevitable—the gold standard for great storytelling.
Practical Steps to Implement This Approach
Ready to try this? Here's your action plan:
- Start tomorrow with a daily word count goal. Don't wait until you "figure out" your ending. The act of writing will help you discover it.
- In each writing session, introduce an oblique complication. After each scene, ask: "What unexpected consequence could emerge from what just happened?"
- Track patterns in your protagonist's behavior. What are they really running from? What do they really need? The answers will point toward your ending.
- Resist the urge to outline your ending too specifically. Give yourself permission to discover it through the writing process.
- When you hit the 75% mark, pause and reflect. What has the oblique conflict revealed about your protagonist's deeper need? Your ending should address this.
- Write the ending in one or two sessions. Use your daily word count momentum to carry you through without second-guessing.
The Payoff
When you combine these approaches, something remarkable happens. Your endings stop feeling forced or predictable. They carry emotional weight because they've been earned through accumulated oblique conflicts. And you actually finish your projects because the daily word count creates unstoppable momentum.
The best part? Your readers will close your story feeling satisfied but unable to quite articulate why. That's the magic of an ending that resolved conflicts they didn't even know were building—conflicts that came at your protagonist (and at them) from angles they never saw coming.
So stop staring at that blank page, wondering how your story ends. Start writing your daily words. Embrace oblique conflict. Trust the process. Your ending is already there, waiting to be discovered.