Your book needs compelling stakes

How tension and stakes work together to keep readers invested

I DNF’ed a book recently.¹² It had a killer premise—I was so excited to read it—but within several chapters, I realized it had absolutely zero stakes. If the hero failed in their efforts, life was just going to… carry on as it always had. Sure, the hero might have been sad for a few days, but after that? Everything in the first 100p implied that the hero would simply return to business as usual. And frankly? This is boring as heck.

The importance of stakes

In fiction, stakes are what may be gained or lost during the course of the story. The lost part is especially key. Succeeding is fun, and the hero will most certainly gain something if they succeed. But what happens if they don’t? What might failure cost them? Without something on the table that the hero might lose (literally of figuratively), you can end up with a flat plot, or worse, readers who simply doesn’t care if your hero reaches their goals.

Stakes are often tied to your story’s central conflict; they are the potential outcome of your hero succeeding (or failing) in their goals. A consequence. Or payoff!

There can be global stakes (Think: the fate of the world due to an alien invasion, or environmental disaster). There can be national or international stakes (think: civil wars or wars between countries). And of course there are more intimate, personal stakes—conflicts between family, friends, and/or love interests.

Not all stories will have world-level stakes,
but all great stories have personal stakes for the hero.

Global and (inter)national stakes are pretty easy for most of us to envision. E.g.: If humanity doesn’t beat back that alien invasion (goal), life as we know it is over forever (stakes/consequence.) Personal stakes, howeer, can get a bit murkier. But just because the conflict isn’t at a global scale does not mean that the stakes can’t feel huge.

They should feel big. Critical. Potentially ruinous. Because while all stories don’t have world-level stakes, every story should include personal stakes for your hero. Your hero needs to be on the verge of losing something crucial.

An example: A heroine’s company is downsizing and she’s worried she might lose her job. This includes some mild stakes. No one wants to be fired unexpectedly! But we can do better than mild…

What if it’s not just any job the heroine is worried about keeping? What if instead, she’s worried about the fate of her personal business—let’s say, an adorable indie bookstore? What if she’s trying to keep this store running despite the charmless, soulless chain bookstore that just went in around the corner? And what if, all the while, she’s unknowingly falling in love with the owner of said chain through an anonymous penpal situation?

I just described You’ve Got Mail.

The stakes here are far more complicated than someone trying to keep a job. It’s someone trying to take on a big corporation and protect a community hub in their personal business. They’re also falling in love at the same time.

The future of the heroine’s business is on the table! Her heart is on the table! Big stakes!

Keeping the reader invested

The bigger the stakes, the more tense the reading experience becomes, and as tension ratchets up, readers typically grow more invested. (When you hear people talk about a book being “unputdownable” or “a page turner,” this is what they mean! They could not stop reading because they had to know what happens next.)

While the words stakes and tension are sometimes used interchangeably when talking about fiction/craft, they are not quite the same thing:

• Tension is a feeling, a level of anticipation the reader experiences regarding what might happen next.

• Stakes are what may be lost by the hero(es) at any given moment in the story.

Strong Tension + High Stakes = Reader Investment

A high-octane action sequence may keep readers turning pages. So might great on-page chemistry between love interests. But pair either of these scenarios with high stakes, and the reader will start calling the book “unputdownable.”

Let’s look at an example: The movie Inception is basically one giant heist story, jam-packed with high-octane action sequences, but it’s the stakes that keep us truly hooked. What are those stakes? Well, if any of the characters dies in the dream, they risk wasting away in Limbo, their brains becoming mush. On top of that, they need to successfully complete their heist during a single plane trip, otherwise Cobb (DiCaprio’s character) will be arrested upon landing and never reunite with his children.

There is a lot to be lost here. One’s sanity/life. Cobb’s relationship with his children. Big stakes.

Another example: The on-page chemistry in Beach Read is great, but it’s the bet/agreement the two heroes make that truly ups the stakes. For those unfamiliar with the novel, the premise is this: Both stuck in writing slumps, a romance author and a literary fiction author dare each other to try to write the other’s genre. Neither wants to fail. Each wants to impress. And both think the other can’t pull it off.

This is a fun premise and the characters have great banter and chemistry, but the stakes amplify that tension: The heroes will help each other research/learn the tropes of their respective genres, but they aren’t writing these books just for fun. They will each send their completed manuscripts to their agents, and the first writer to sell their book to a publisher wins.

This isn’t just a silly bet; the future of both their careers is tied up in the outcome. And for two writers that are in a rut, unsticking their writer’s block is key. They may also have a bit of a history are definitely not going to fall in love… Again, big stakes.

Macro vs Micro Stakes

Lastly, stakes exist at two levels. There are the macro stakes—the overarching stakes that are tied to the central conflict and the hero’s main goal. What happens if they don’t succeed? These stakes should be felt throughout the entire novel.

However, micro stakes can exist at the scene level. There should be some sort of conflict in every chapter anyway, so it’s good to ask yourself what the hero stands to lose in any of these scenes.

If the hero misses a train, do they just wait for the next one (low stakes) or do they miss their kid’s birthday party (big stakes)? If the hero is caught lying, do they feel embarrassed in private (low stakes) or did they get called out publicly (big stakes)?

Upping the stakes will almost always up the tension—especially if those stakes are personal.

Big personal stakes can also back up your character motivations. In short: when there is a lot to be lost (or gained), our heroes may go to extraordinary lengths in their efforts to succeed. And so long as those stakes are clear on the page, readers will eat it up. Heck, they may even root the hero on.

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Hopefully this has given you something to think about as far as stakes and conflicts are concerned.

If you have any questions, drop them in the comments. Better yet, if you can think of a story with killer stakes that you’d like to recommend, please share it below! I’m always looking to add unputdownable books to my TBR!

Until next time,

Erin Bowman is the critically acclaimed author of numerous books for children and teens, including the Taken Trilogy, Vengeance Road, Retribution Rails, the Edgar Award-nominated Contagion duology, The Girl and the Witch’s Garden, and Dustborn. A web designer turned author, Erin has always been invested in telling stories—both visually and with words. Erin lives in New Hampshire with her husband and children.

1. I’m not going to share the title, sorry.

2. Unrelated, I took the above photo yesterday, the first day of the year that I was able to prop open my office door and crack the windows. Ah, to work with fresh air and birdsong filtering through the room. Spring has finally arrived in NH!