Shannon Dittemore is the author of the Angel Eyes trilogy. She has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a love of all things literary. When she isn’t writing, she spends her days with her husband, Matt, imagining things unseen and chasing their two children around their home in Northern California. To connect with Shan, check out her website, FB, Twitter, Instagram, or Pinterest.
Good morning, friends! I have to tell you, I was thoroughly inspired by Stephanie’s recent blog posts on synopses. If you haven’t read them, you should absolutely do that. They’re very straightforward and readable, and I promise you, not all blog posts on such topics can claim to be both of those things.
Stephanie’s articles got me thinking about my own experience and how my relationship to the dreaded synopsis has changed over the past few years.
Like Steph, when I started out, I dreaded writing a synopsis (a summary of your novel). There were all these stipulations and formatting rules established by publishing professionals and, oftentimes, the advice seemed very conflicting. And, let’s be real, I still stammer when someone asks me to explain what my books are about. The idea of trying to summarize 100k words into just a few pages can be daunting.
Over the years, my perspective has changed considerably. Initially, I considered prospective agents and editors the primary audience for my synopses. But, several books in now, I’ve found that I read my synopsis more than anyone. It has become a vital tool in both drafting and editing my novel.
In essence, my synopsis serves as my outline.
The process usually looks like this:
I get an idea.
I stew on the idea–sometimes for minutes, sometimes for weeks.
I sit down in front of the computer and I write. Not my synopsis. A chapter, maybe two. I do everything I can to simply BE the narrator of the story for a bit. This can last a couple writing sessions or it can last weeks. I write long enough to have some sort of an idea about the world, the main character, and where her journey might lead. In short, I let myself write by the seat of my pants for a little bit.
THEN! Once I feel like I’m in the story, I open a shiny new blank page on my computer and I TELL myself the story. (Steph’s advice on telling in a synopsis is stellar. Go read it.) The writing of my synopsis can take several days. I come and go, making huge sweeping decisions for characters I’ve barely met and letting myself skim over motivations and lesser details.
And then . . .
I conclude the synopsis with what I see will be the end of the story. I do. I will not make myself stick to this ending, but I do write it. I write my initial conclusion and when I save this document on my computer I name it Working Synopsis.
Here’s where it gets fun.
This Working Synopsis now acts as my outline, but it is also so much more. This short document is full of writing prompts and guideposts that help me when I get lost. At any given time, I can pick up my imperfect synopsis, select a paragraph, and use it to get me writing. I can read about the actions of my characters, things I’ve told myself will happen, and I can spend my writing session digging into those moments and looking for motivations while playing with cause and effect.
Here’s a random paragraph from my current Working Synopsis.
The only way to free Lenore is to ensure Mars’ haul makes it to the same rebel camp. But Sylvi’s rig—the Silver Dragon—is too heavy to make the trek across the ice. She’ll have to stick to the Shiv Road and despite her protestations, she won’t be traveling alone.
It’s a prompt just begging to be written, right? Who’s Lenore? Who the heck is Mars? What are they hauling and why is it so heavy? The Silver Dragon?! What’s wrong with traveling the Shiv Road and who will be traveling with her?
There is just so much here to dig into. And for my purposes, that’s exactly what I want the first draft of a synopsis to be.
It’s especially helpful to have a Working Synopsis in place when you’ve had to step away from your manuscript for chunks of time. The synopsis (read: outline) brings clarity and focus and reminds you where you were when you left off.
Another thing: I’m not big on printing out my novels to read them and mark them up anymore–I work better on the screen–but I do print out my Working Synopsis and I scribble notes in the margins whenever I deviate from it or need to remind myself of new doors the drafting process has opened up for me. Every now and then, I take these notes and update the synopsis on the computer and print it out again. I keep my most recently updated version at my elbow the entire time I write.
How and when you choose to write your synopsis is entirely up to you and, like the rest of us, you’ll carve out a system through trial and error. But if you haven’t written a synopsis toward the beginning of your process, give it a go. It just might be the outline you never thought you could scratch out. It might give you the direction and motivation to keep writing when things get tough. And I guarantee it will give you hints about where your characters should go next when you’ve forgotten just which road they’re supposed to be on.
Of course, if and when you decide to let other people read your synopsis, you’re definitely going to want to lean on Stephanie’s post, How to Edit Your Synopsis. A scribbled up document is fabulous for a writer, but not so much for those fancy industry professionals you’re trying to impress.