Loving Your Synopsis

Ahh, the poor synopsis. The word itself is enough to make the most seasoned writer lose their lunch. But I've always loved writing them. In fact, I usually write the synopsis before I finish chapter one. It gives me a general, cinematic idea of where the book is going. It reminds me of how punchy the plot is, how different my character is . . . and if it doesn't, I know I need to do something before I get in too deep.

I have coached more than my fair share of both aspiring and published writers through composing the synopsis. And most first attempts, I have to say, are . . . well, not so good. It's as if these writers have forgotten what makes their book sing. They bog the synopsis down in plodding plot details and by page 6 or 8 or 12 (way too long) I'm bored out of my skull. Think of the synopsis as a sales presentation. You want to have the board room eating out of your hand. You want to rivet the room. You want a verbal Powerpoint. You do not want to recite "and then this happens . . . then this." You want personality and punch.

Okay . . . so I pulled out a synopsis of mine. It sold on proposal. Here are some highlights.

First . . . a tag line.

Freudian Slip . . . A romantic-comedy between heaven and hell.

This is something my agent puts on page one. It grounds the book, it's pithy, sales-oriented.

Then the synopsis itself . . . in this case, the set-up for the novel:

Julian Shaw expected a long tunnel. Then a white light. Or at least his dearly departed grandmother.

What he got, instead, was Gus.

This is the premise. In four sentences. The minute an editor reads this, she deduces this is about someone who has died . . . sort of.

Moving on, I need to describe my main character in 25 words or less--everything you need to know about him to get through the rest of the proposal.

Julian Shaw, former heroin addict, long-haired, raspy-voiced, sexy DJ, is rich, famous, and hated. His radio show is famous for inviting lesbians and porn stars on air, and raising the ire of every conservative pundit in the United States.

Note you do not need (nor does it appear anywhere else in the synopsis) Julian's life story, his past, his back story, anything about his parents or life other than this. That's ALL you need.

Now . . . major plot point. How did Julian wind up sort of dead?

One morning, Julian is shot in the back by a crazed fanatic and awakes in a place where nothing makes sense.

There you go. I do not need to explain my entire world-building of this place. The editor needs to accept this on face value, and because I present it as a sentence in a synopsis, the editor will just go with it. If they want to know more, they'll read the chapters. Move on. Keep the synopsis moving.

I'm skipping a little bit, but we meet Julian's spirit guide, Gus, and continue:

Julian, in a panic, tries to absorb what he’s told. But there’s more. Gus, a Frenchman from the 1800s, soon informs him that he has a job to do. He’s been assigned as a sort of celestial social worker, to Kate Darby, who walked in on her boyfriend, and love of her life, in bed with her best friend. Coupled with the death of her fireman father on September 11th, her mother’s hasty remarriage to a creep, and the fact that she has to work in the very next office from her supposed best friend, Kate is seriously depressed.

Kate is very depressed. In fact, the first time we meet her, she's halfway through a bottle of wine, lying on her living room floor with a box of Kleenex, listening to the same sad song on her CD player over and over. But it's enough in the synopsis to know this much. We don't need to know what she does for a living (she's an editor but it's not a central plot point), what she looks like, or anything more to get the set-up and how these two characters will interact.

Unfortunately for Julian, he is in Neither Here Nor There, which means he is not as powerful as either angels or devils.

Along the way, Julian will meet both angels and devils, but the fact that this strange place in the book has a name (Neither Here Nor There) means it's obviously aiming for a bit of humor; it's quirky. And the editor will soon find out that Julian CAN talk to Kate. A little bit later, we get to the crux of the book.

If the connection is particularly strong, she might even find herself blurting out Julian’s words as her own—a Freudian slip.

I added the italics. And there you go. THAT'S the book. The most important aspect of it. What follows are three or four pages of plot twists . . . which I don't want to reveal. And then the end. Voila. A synopsis.

What is NOT there? Any more physical description than what I gave, subplots, secondary characters beyond the main four or five . . . endless details about the plot twists--it's enough to know they're there. I don't try to justify the world, I don't explain how it works or why it works. It just IS.

And most of all . . . it's breezy and fast-paced, it has the "feel" of the book. I'm trying to sell it (indeed, it did sell). I try to imagine a person who just wants to hear a good story, who just wants to "cut to the chase." Give me the highlights. Like recapping a movie or book for a dear friend. Make them smile. Make them want to read the book.

Anyone else? What's the hardest--or easiest--thing about your synopsis?