So, I’m writing synopses for proposals, and many of you will be coming home from RWA National with the words “send it to me” ringing in your ears — which means that you will also need to write a synopsis. So, it seemed a good time to rummage through my workshops file and (TADAAAAAA) come up with this one.
Here we go.
Conquering the Synopsis.
by Claire Cross/Delacroix
One of the necessary ingredients in any fiction submission is the synopsis. It’s also the hardest part of the submission package for any new author to tame. Today we’ll look at the purpose of the synopsis and discuss some ways to strengthen yours.
No matter what you’re sending to the publisher, a synopsis will invariably be part of your submission package. The good news is that the synopsis isn’t going to make or break your sale alone – the manuscript is the only part of the package that can go solo like that. If you must choose where to invest your time, ALWAYS invest it in the ms. This is the “product” that you are trying to sell, and the same product that the house ultimately will be selling to readers. The book itself is the most critical part of your submission.
Now, we’ve all heard of authors selling “on synopsis”, but pause for a moment to think about this. You never hear about new authors selling on synopsis. It just doesn’t happen and that’s not because they can’t write a good synopsis. Established authors may appear to sell on synopsis, but what they’re really selling on is their track record. Their publisher knows that this author can tell a story, can deliver a full manuscript and sells in the marketplace at level X. The synopsis is just a tool used to generate the contract paperwork – an indicator of the truth of this is that many authors who sell on synopsis will readily admit that the finished manuscript rarely resembles the synopsis that made the sale. And that seldom matters – the finished product is marketable, and that’s all the publisher cares about, not whether the order of events or the characters’ names have changed.
The very first thing you must understand is that the synopsis does not repeat the story told in your book, in the same order but in shorter format. It’s an entirely different kind of beastie. It’s not the same as back cover teaser copy either.
The synopsis is quite simply a selling tool. Think of it as an executive summary. The synopsis tells the potential buyer (i.e. the publisher) what to expect from the rest of the ms without him or her actually having to read several hundred pages to find out. Most editors will approach a submission by reading the first chapter included in the that submission. They want to see primarly whether the story grabs their attention, whether the author can write, whether the author has a strong voice, whether the characters are compelling, etc. etc. They’ll check the ultimate product first. If they like what they see, they’ll turn to the synopsis before making their decision.
So, ideally, what does the synopsis communicate to the publisher?
1. First and foremost, the kind of book should be immediately clear from the synopsis and, of course, you should be submitting this project to a publisher who prints that kind of book. This is not as foolish as it might sound — the vast majority of unsolicited submissions are rejected for this simple reason. You must research the imprint and the publisher you target, and ideally, you should choose the editor within that house most likely to like your book. The synopsis will reveal whether the author understands the marketing niche where the book belongs as well as the house’s marketing niche. It will show whether you have done your homework.
One of the simplest ways to address this, is with an introductory paragraph. I usually stand a one or two sentence paragraph apart from the rest of the synopsis, something like this:
“Capture the Moon is a dark, sensuous vampire romance, set in contemporary Boston and Renaissance Paris, following the adventures of a no-nonsense investigative reporter and the passionate vampire who has waited impatiently for five centuries to claim her as his soulmate and his salvation.
From one sentence, the editor knows that it’s a fantasy romance, it’s sexy, that there’s some time travel or history involved, and that it’s dark rather than light and funny. He or she knows that it has a US setting. He or she also has caught a glimpse of the characterizations and the conflict they reveal — it’s likely that our pragmatic reporter doesn’t believe in woo-woo and that this will create a difference of perspective with her immortal lover. Ideally, this will be the kind of book that this house (and this editor) is acquiring. When you get a quick rejection, it’s often because you completely missed the pitch.
2. The second job of the synopsis is to show that the author knows how to construct a story. Storytelling is a very hard skill to teach and something that (fortunately) many writers do intuitively. What is involved here is not only a sequence of unfolding events but the steady movement of the conflict toward the resolution, a movement that is predictable in some ways and surprising in others. (If your book recounts a series of events but does not move steadily toward a resolution, it will be labelled “episodic”.) Characters must learn something over the course of the book to satisfy the reader, issues have to be resolved and conflicts must be defused. The synopsis will reveal whether you know your craft and whether you understand the role of every element you have introduced into the story.
For example, secondary characters shouldn’t just pop up, say their lines and disappear forever – they must be tied into the fabric of the story, perhaps reappearing at the end to provide a critical piece of the puzzle, perhaps echoing the greater relationship in another key. For example, in a dark and intense romance like THE WARRIOR, I made the romance between the secondary characters light, funny and comic relief. It leavened the book, making it less weighty than it might have been otherwise, and gave it more balance. This is storytelling, however, this secondary romance wasn’t even mentioned in the synopsis. If it had been, it would have been a one-liner: “A secondary romance between X and Y provides comic relief.” The synopsis shows that you know what is the central thread of your book.
To check this, examine the diverse elements of your story and pare your synopsis down to the main thread, which (for a romance) will be the development of the main romantic relationship. One of the hallmarks of a synopsis that fails in this area is that it is disjointed or is itself episodic. Events that appear to have nothing to do with each other and have no obvious reason for being included either don’t need to be there or haven’t been explained well enough. Any incidents that seem coincidental or convenient, instead of being the result of one protagonist or the other consciously deciding to act, should be removed and revised. All protagonists in genre fiction are ACTIVE protagonists: they make things happen. Things don’t just happen to them. They are far more in control of their universe than we are — that’s what makes them noble and heroic and larger than life.
An example of this kind of thing might be (sticking with my earlier example) that the hero provides proof to the heroine of their previous existence together in Renaissance Paris by dragging her through a worm hole in space, which just happens to be located in her dining room but had been undetected until page 368. It’s okay if YOU didn’t know it was there until you wrote page 368, but then go back and work it into the story, so there are hints of its presence and awfully good reasons for it being there in the first place. Ideally, the hero would have PUT it there to tempt the heroine to discover the truth herself, and the heroine would have noticed it but dismissed it or ignored it for some excellent reason. Working over your synopsis critically is a good way to see these kinds of problems and loose ends even before you write the book.
3. The synopsis should reveal the kind of characters that you’ve created. The publisher needs to know that the characters are admirable, noble and sympathetic (as well as active protagonists). They also have to make sense, act reasonably and have motivations that seem acceptably “real”. They have to be consistent. In romantic fiction, the hero must be a man the reader can fall in love with, the heroine a woman in whose shoes the reader can imagine herself.
One way to address this is to include a thumbnail sketch of each protagonist in your synopsis. State who they are what critical events have given them the attitudes that they hold. In the synopsis for a romance, it’s helpful to include the characters’ perspective on love and/or marriage as this will shape the book in some way — plus, giving the protagonists opposing viewpoints can create instant conflict.
My vampire hero, for example, might believe in the power of destined love. That would inform his decision to wait for his one true love and give him the motivation to win her, at any cost. Let’s say the reporter thinks love is a bunch of misty-eyed bunk. Presto – conflict. I firmly believe that one character has to understand love to make the romance work and be credible — so I’d probably twist this a bit further and make the vampire the one who believes in the grand concept of love but doesn’t understand the nuts and bolts of living with a loved one, of sacrifice and compromise and negotiation. I’d have the heroine understand that, but let her call it something else. “Being reasonable” or something similar. This way, the conflict would be layered. She’d be his destiny but he’d not be willing to change or concede anything to nurture that love, while she doesn’t buy the idea of destined love but likes him and isn’t afraid to show her feelings on a daily basis. This way, they’d each be confusing the heck out of each other — okay, so maybe it would have some comedic moments.
4. This neatly brings us to the fourth item of interest: the synopsis must illuminate the conflict and its resolution. It should show how the story moves forward, propelled by the conflict and the characters’ responses to events that occur as a result of that conflict. For a romance, it must show the progression from Meet to HEA.
The best way to deal with this one is to think of the story as a hot potato. The hero says “oo, look at this” and throws it to the heroine, who says “oo, you take it” and throws it back, etc. He does something which compels her to do something, which makes him do something, etc. The synopsis recounts the pingpong motion of the hot potato – and how each toss moves them one step closer to the HEA.
For example: “Since the hero has been waiting five centuries for the heroine to reappear in his life, he’s blunt about declaring their entwined fates when they first meet. Because she’s skeptical of things she can’t see and because she’s never met him before, the heroine assumes that he’s either drunk or crazy, and refuses to leave with him. She walks away, trying to ignore him as she mingles with the other guests at the party. The hero is enraged by her blatant disregard for destiny, and…”
What?
What he does is less important than the fact that he’s responding to what she has done, and that he’s moving the conflict forward.
So, how do you get all this stuff into a synopsis? What if I tell you that you shouldn’t need more than 8 – 10 double-spaced pages to do so?
Remember – the synopsis isn’t going to recount all of the story. That gives you a lot of space. Here’s how I do it but bear in mind that everyone attacks this problem differently:
1. I begin with the summary paragraph, which will only be 3 or 4 lines long.
2. I explain one character’s history and situation – usually the hero – what made him what he is, what he believes and what he wants. I repeat the exercise for the heroine. This should be very concise, maybe a paragraph each, and gets us to The Meet. The issue(s) should be clear between the pair.
3. I summarize the progression of the story, or more accurately, the sequence of challenges to each characters’ perspective. Focus on the key moments in the relationship’s development – some people call them “turning points”. (eg. “What makes the reporter decide to believe the vampire?”) I usually include the consummation – because it is romantically significant and reveals something about character – but I’m often wrong about when it actually occurs. (Not the reason why though!) There should be a sense of building tension, even in the synopsis, which culminates in one bit confrontation. Ideally, this will be the biggest issue between them that you’ve left until the last to resolve. Ideally, everything will hang in the balance right before your HEA.
Here’s something else for you to consider: the synopsis can help you troubleshoot your story before you even begin to write the book. What I have given you for the vampire romance isn’t enough conflict to sustain a book, for example. There are no stakes in the story, beyond some vague promise of salvation (whatever that is in this fictional universe). We can add a ticking clock of some kind and put the vampire on a deadline to win the heroine’s heart (before midnight on Halloween, lest he remain undead for all time?) or add another issue that rides on the result of their courtship. Give one character a secret that the other needs to know, or make one the holder of a critical key. At no point should it be possible for either character to say “forget it” and walk away – there must be compelling reasons for continuing. So, maybe my vampire and reporter meet at a Halloween party, she walks away from the hunky nutcase, but then the host is discovered dead in the kitchen and no one invited that pale guy. So the heroine sets out to find him. She’s got the hot potato of my analogy and needs to hunt him down to chuck it at him. Or I could turn it backwards – she could get charged with the murder of the host and the vampire (being chivalrous, as vampires tend to be) has to de-cloak in a weird modern world to save his one true love, even though she’s a whole lot of trouble. OTOH, she’s his salvation, so he’s got to try.
Go through the synopsis and ask yourself “Why?” after every event or every choice made by a protagonist. This can help you reveal gaps in their motivation. Look at the structure: a romance is about a romantic relationship and its development, therefore, the Meet should be as close to line #1 page #1 as possible, and the resolution that allows for the HEA should be as close to the last line as possible. Resolve the romantic conflict LAST. Check that your characters are consistent, that what they get in the end matches what they wanted in the beginning. One final note: there must be a compelling reason for anyone to change their mind about some conviction they hold dear. An extremely logical person, like my reporter, won’t believe that the pale hunk is a vampire just because he tells her so. Even the barest sketch of her character reveals that she will need evidence. What that proof is, and how the vampire presents it, would be a critical element of this synopsis because – of course! – showing her that he is a vampire will make him vulnerable and will be a sign of his trust in her.
So, does that help?