A technique for complicating your plot by never giving your protagonist a clean win or a simple loss.
"Yes, but" and "no, and" are two ways to answer the dramatic question at the end of a scene so that the story keeps moving forward with escalating tension. "Yes, but" means the character achieves their goal, but a new complication arises. "No, and" means the character fails, and something else goes wrong on top of it. The result is that no scene ends in a resting state. Every outcome opens a new problem, which pushes the reader into the next scene. It is a simple tool, but it is one of the most reliable engines for momentum in fiction.
Clean victories and simple failures are the death of narrative tension. If your character achieves their goal with no strings attached, there is nothing left to read for. If they fail and nothing changes, the story stalls. "Yes, but / no, and" keeps the story in a state of productive instability, where every answer spawns a new question. It is also how you avoid the dreaded saggy middle: if every scene ends with a complication rather than a resolution, the middle of your story builds momentum instead of losing it.
Nearly every scene follows this pattern. Does Indy find the Ark? Yes, but the Nazis take it from him. Does he escape the snake pit? Yes, but Marion is still captured. The plot never rests because every success creates a new problem.
Does Katniss find water? Yes, but she is driven toward the edge of the arena. Does she form an alliance with Rue? Yes, but it puts both of them at greater risk. Collins uses yes-but relentlessly to maintain tension.
Does Marta manage to keep her secret? Yes, but each lie she tells to protect herself creates new evidence for the detective to find. The entire movie is a cascade of yes-but complications spiraling toward inevitable exposure.
If a scene ends and the character is either fully satisfied or in the exact same position as before, you have missed an opportunity to complicate the story. Add a "but" or an "and" to every scene ending.
The complication should flow logically from the action. "Yes, but a meteor hits" feels arbitrary. "Yes, but the person she saved now knows her secret" feels earned because it is a consequence of the success itself.
If every single scene ends in failure plus additional failure, readers feel hopeless. Mix in yes-but outcomes to keep hope alive. The character needs to make progress, even if that progress comes with strings attached.
Each complication should be bigger or more personal than the last. If your yes-but complications stay at the same intensity, the story plateaus instead of building.
Write five consecutive scene endings for a character pursuing a single goal. Make the first three alternate between yes-but and no-and outcomes, each one escalating the complications. For the fourth, use a no-but to give the character a glimmer of hope from an unexpected direction. For the fifth, let them finally achieve their goal, but use a yes-but that sets up the next chapter's conflict. Notice how the story never stops moving.