Revenge Isn’t a Stake—It’s a Symptom: Why Stakes Matter More than Motive

Ensuring Bigger Consequences for Your Characters

During a critique I asked the writer: What’s at stake for your protagonist? What can’t they walk away from without devastating consequences? Their answer: revenge.

Writers love revenge. It’s clean. It’s urgent. It’s fun to write. Someone did something awful, and now they must pay.

Except, revenge isn’t a real stake. It’s not what the story is about. It’s a catalyst—a symptom, not the actual illness. It’s an aspect of the character arc, not what should be (solely) driving the narrative.

If your entire plot depends on whether the character gets revenge, chances are, the story lacks deeper emotional incentive.

What Real Stakes Look Like?

A stake is something your character cannot walk away from. It's unavoidable, urgent, and the consequences of failure are devastating.

In The Princess Bride Inigo starts out wanting revenge against the six-fingered man who killed his father. By the climax, he's helping save Buttercup and stop a war. Revenge became the catalyst for something bigger, something he can't abandon.

An even better example: The Handmaid's Tale. June is a prime example of how revenge can’t be the core of a story. June fantasizes about revenge constantly. When she finally kills Fred, it’s a moment of power, and we cheer, but it’s a hollow victory. It doesn’t end her trauma. It doesn’t reunite her with her daughter. It doesn’t dismantle Gilead.

What actually drives the story is June’s desperate need to get her daughter back, reclaim her agency and find peace. Those are stakes she cannot walk away from, no matter how much they cost her.

Real stakes create true forward momentum. Revenge creates optional detours.

When Revenge Works

Some readers might argue revenge can be a powerful stake—after all, some of the most gripping stories in literature and film are driven by a protagonist’s thirst for vengeance. And they’re right: revenge can absolutely fuel a story’s momentum under the right circumstances.

However, the best revenge stories aren't about whether the character succeeds in getting payback. They're about what kind of person they become in the process, and what else hangs in the balance.

Gladiator starts with Maximus wanting revenge against Commodus to avenge his family; but, the real stakes become saving Rome from tyranny. Kill Bill is about the Bride's quest for vengeance, but it's also about whether she can reclaim her identity and capacity for love after trauma.

There needs to be something beyond the surface desire of retribution.

The Litmus Test

The problem with revenge as your primary stake is its fragility. At any moment, your character can have an epiphany and decide it's not worth it. They can choose forgiveness. They can decide to focus on healing instead of hurting; and, suddenly, your story has nowhere to go.

This couldn’t happen with genuine stakes. A character can't decide their child doesn't need saving. They can't walk away from the bomb that's about to explode. They can't choose to let the world end because they've had a change of heart or just don’t feel like making the effort.

Real stakes are inescapable. Revenge is ultimately a choice.

What’s Really at Stake?

To illustrate, let’s use a premise I see all the time: "When Sally’s parents are murdered, she vows to hunt down their killers and make them pay."

If I could say one thing to all the writers whose protagonist wants revenge for the murder of a loved one, it would be: Dig deeper. Find what’s really driving the story. What does Sally think killing the murderers will accomplish? What is she really trying to get back or protect?

Maybe Sally discovers the killers are part of a trafficking ring, and other families are at risk. Now the stakes aren't just about her loss—they're about preventing future victims. She can't walk away because people will die.

Maybe Sally realizes that in pursuing revenge, she's becoming the very thing that destroyed her family—and now she's fighting to save her own soul while still stopping the killers from hurting others.

In each case, Sally’s personal pain transforms into something larger that she cannot ignore.

The Real Question

If your story is driven by revenge, ask yourself: What happens if your character decides revenge isn't worth it?

You might say, "But my character would never decide that." That may be an issue as well. If your character can't evolve, question their motivations, or grow beyond their initial desire for payback, then they may be less of a character, and more of a plot device.

Let’s go back to The Handmaid's Tale. June goes through a lot of changes. She could have stayed focused on revenge, but realizes her rage, while justified, isn't getting her closer to what she truly wants and needs. A well-developed character should be capable of this kind of growth.

Your story can absolutley start with revenge, but you need to ensure there’s something deeper. Something inescapable. Something that transforms personal pain into universal stakes that no character—and no reader—can walk away from.

Revenge is just a symptom. The real story is how your character learns to move forward, and perhaps turning personal pain into something that prevents future harm.

---

📚FURTHER READING📚:

Plot Twist or Cheap Trick

The Midbook Slump

---

🛠️ADDITIONAL HELP & RESOURCES🛠️

📚 If you’re revising your manuscript and want to pressure-test your structure, scenes, and pages, my FREE Launch Kit can help.

📢 Feeling unsure whether your submission package is solid?
I’ve got a brand-new mini course that walks you through the key elements agents focus on—your query letter, synopsis, and first five pages. It’s quick, it’s actionable, and it’s just $19. Sign up now and get the bonus workbook.