When faced with a problem—or an unpleasant situation—we don’t always charge in, swords drawn. Sometimes we hesitate. We stall. We sidestep. And sometimes, we run.
This is true in life, and just as true in fiction.
Whether our protagonist chooses to confront the inciting incident head-on or tries to avoid it altogether doesn’t change the fact that both choices shape the story in profound ways. What does change is the path the narrative takes—and the emotional terrain it must cross.
The same scenario can be viewed through two lenses:
- One in which the character seeks resolution.
- One in which they seek escape.
Each choice leads to a different tone, a different pace, and often, a different kind of growth. A story of confrontation might be bold and immediate, full of tension and grit. A story of avoidance might simmer slowly, steeped in denial, detours, and the quiet ache of consequences deferred.
Yet despite these differences, both paths can lead to the same destination: a reckoning. The moment when the protagonist, after all their efforts to delay or dodge, must finally face what they’ve been running from.
For example, take Yazmin from my novel Universal Justice. Faced with Brian’s murder conviction, she chose distance. She chose to run. And in doing so, she set the course for everything that followed. What if she’d stayed? What if she’d fought for him, or with him? Would Brian still be alive?
We’ll never know—because she didn’t choose to stay. And that’s the haunting truth of avoidance: it doesn’t erase the conflict. It only delays the confrontation.
Ultimately, both paths—whether of confrontation or escape—lead the protagonist to a reckoning. But the emotional journey, the scars, the revelations along the way…those are shaped by the choice itself.
And that’s where the heart of the story lives—not in the choice itself, but in what the choice reveals.