The HEA Cafe

IV. THE SYNOPSIS AS A WRITING TOOL
(including Critique of Draft Synopsis)

Yesterday’s draft looks like a good synopsis, doesn’t it? You can see that the elements we’ve discussed are included.

There’s a little blurb about what kind of book this is, you’ve met the protagonists, seen a bit of their characters, and had a glimpse of the conflict. You can see the Meet, and the conflict there, and the beginning of the pair working it out. Action is prompting reaction, and I could continue like this to the end of the story, following my little pinball and noting how the two come closer together.

The reason that I stopped developing it is that the synopsis already shows serious flaws. It’s not a good synopsis, because it’s not about a strong book. Here’s evidence of the one thing that a synopsis can do, all by its lonesome: it might eliminate the chance of an editor asking after a full manuscript, or even eliminate the chance of a book selling at all. This synopsis reveals a number of structural issues in the book. It also shows a few marketing problems. Overall, it indicates that the author either doesn’t know much about the romance market or isn’t a good storyteller - or both.

There are no perfect synopses, but every story and every synopsis can be tightened and improved.

Most new authors work on the synopsis after the book is done, figuring that the synopsis is just a shorter retelling of the story. In a way, this is leaving your change on the counter. The synopsis can be more than a chore - it can be a tool for you to tell whether your story is working or not. One of the great benefits of writing a synopsis in advance of writing the book is that the synopsis can target weaknesses in your story before you’ve spent a lot of time writing chapters that will need to be revised or chucked. For example, the synopsis can reveal whether you’ve left straggling ends or whether you’ve spaced out the resolution too much, or put events in the wrong order. Working over your synopsis critically is a good way to see these kind of global problems and loose ends before you write the book or chapter in question.

With this example, I’m going to show you how you can use your synopsis to identify problems in your book before you even begin to write the book. This can save you a lot of time and trouble.

1. Coincidence

There is a saying that readers will only swallow coincidence if it makes the situation worse for the protagonist. I think there’s truth in that. So, my first criticism of this synopsis as it stands is that there’s no good reason for either the hero or the heroine to be at this party. There’s no justification for the Meet.

It’s a coincidence, and coincidence weakens the story. I could argue that it was destiny (as Reynaud might!) but that’s not much stronger. Coincidence happens in real life, all the time, but we like stories to be more compelling. We like our protagonists to be active and goal-oriented. Maybe we like our stories to show the delusion of control over happenstance.
A similar issue is that Reynaud knows that Melissa is his one true love on sight - how? Why? Love at first sight makes us skeptical, (although we’re happy with lust at first sight.)

So, my first correction would be to provide a compelling reason for them both to be there at that party. It needs to be consistent with character, too, and it needs to make the protagonists both look active in pursuit of their respective goals. And there needs to be some reason Reynaud gloms on to Melissa. Is there a mating sign? Does he know her name? Has he been hunting her across the centuries because their partnership was foretold?

2. Insufficient Story

The synopsis can also reveal whether there is sufficient story for the targeted length of the book. In our current market, most vampire romances would be marketed as single title romances, which means the book length would be between 80,000 and 110,000 words. I don’t know how to quantify this for you, but it is clear to me that there isn’t enough story here to sustain a book of that length. There needs to be more meat on the bone, more nuance to the conflict, more subplot, more something, in order to support a book of that length with good pacing.

My own sense comes from having written over 30 books that were about 100,000 words, but if you have read a lot of books that length (as an editor acquiring such books will have done) then you might have the same sense. There are no substantial obstacles between the pair beyond misunderstanding and a difference of perspective, which could be a factor in this.

So, I need more story.

3. Low Stakes (no pun intended!)

Similarly, there are no stakes in this story, other than fulfilling destined love or not. There’s nothing at risk, beyond the happiness of the two protagonists. When this is the case, a book often has a “sagging middle”, because working out the details of a relationship already established doesn’t always make for the most riveting read.

One of the easiest ways to introduce stakes is to add a ‘ticking clock’ of some kind. It’s crude but effective. A deadline propels our pacing forward; it gives the characters a time constraint and it can spread the import of the conflict beyond those two protagonists. You don’t have to put world peace on the agenda, but broadening the conflict can make the characters seem more vividly part of their own world.

For example, I can put the vampire on a deadline to win the heroine’s heart.

Incidentally, the stakes will also fuel the dark moment — oops, we don’t really have a dark moment, do we? A dark moment increases reader satisfaction in the happy ending, by making it look likely that happiness will be lost forever, and that just before it is won. A dark moment, once overcome, makes it appear that the protagonists have earned their happy ending - which vastly increases the perceived probability that their ‘happily’ really will be ‘ever after’.

The stakes at risk also include those for the individual characters - maybe we should call this motivation. Reynaud has motivation, but does Melissa? Could either of them (or both of them) have stronger motivation, motivation with higher stakes? A classic way to do this is to give one 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, even against their will. These reasons must be evident from the beginning - they may, in fact, be the only reason why each character persists in seeing the other, even incredibly annoying, individual. Your pinball will reveal when you haven’t got a reason to move to the next scene.

So, I need some stakes, clearer motivation and a dark moment.

4. Little Characterization

You can also examine the characterization of your main characters in your synopsis. Check that they’re consistent. Are they sympathetic? Check the goal you’ve given them at the beginning, perhaps the attitude and outlook, and ensure that some of these have changed or been achieved by the end. Ideally, the specific characterization of both protagonists will prove central to the resolution of the conflict. This makes them the right people to solve the puzzle, maybe the only people who could solve it — maybe even destined lovers.

I think the characterization as shown in this synopsis is a bit thin. It’s not clear what kind of person Reynaud is, and it’s not clear why Melissa is the right heroine for him or this story.

5. No Character Arc

Character arc is the evolution of a character, particularly of his or her viewpoint or means of interacting with the world. In other words, we’re talking about a character learning something, or being healed — ideally, in a romance, by the power of love. Neither Melissa nor Reynaud show any character arc in this synopsis. Love brings them nothing, except good sex and some inconvenience.

As a general rule of thumb, at least one of the main characters - in a romance, the hero and heroine - MUST show character development, but minor ones do not. Of course, a book where everyone learns something is more interesting to read, but also more complicated to write. Begin with focusing on what’s critical.

Remember that there must be a compelling reason for anyone to change their mind about something, or to challenge their early conclusions, and it must be a reason that makes sense given their characterization. Anything less will seriously weaken your story.

For example, an extremely logical person, like our reporter heroine, isn’t going to believe that the hero is a vampire just because he walks up to her and says so. It’s clear even from the barest sketch that her characterization demands that she will need tangible proof. What that proof is - and how the vampire presents it - will be a critical element of this synopsis, because of course, *showing* her that he is a vampire makes him vulnerable and will be a sign of his trust. I would be inclined to not have him prove as much to her until he knew that he loved her — or until his own ticking clock left him with no other choice. Although there are glimmers of this in the synopsis, it’s not given the emphasis that it should be given as a turning point.

Nobody’s evolving in this synopsis, or learning anything. No one is even compromising! I need to fix that.

6. Little Continuity

The best books are structured so that elements appear more than once in the story, or even that those elements appearing at the beginning appear again at the end. A circular sense to the story makes it more pleasing. So, in this case, I might conclude the story at a party, just as it began, maybe another Hallowe’en party. The continuity of elements throughout the story also makes it richer - so I might play with the theme of disguise, or people being other than they appear to be, with the interesting exception of the hero who is exactly who he appears to be (against all reason and expectation).

Another element of continuity is foreshadowing. An example is one particular to time travel: how is time travel achieved in the world of this book? If there just happens to be a time travel vortex in Melissa’s dining room wall that no one knew anything about until page 268, which is when Reynaud chooses to take Melissa into the past, then this is less than ideal. Have the hero check the vortex earlier “phew, that’s convenient”, or maybe have him explain to her about these vortices, so it doesn’t sound to the reader as if you just made it up on the spot to make your job easier. Why didn’t Reynaud time-travel to Melissa’s point in time before this? Or has he just arrived?

Whatever happened to the bad dude who made Reynaud a vampire against his will? That circle of backstory needs to be closed — and after all, an evil vampire would still be alive, right? It’s critical that the bad dude be put in his place, so there’s no prospect of him threatening the future of the protagonists.

So, the time travel element could be woven in more clearly, the backstory needs to be developed and resolved, and there could be some element to the story that pulls it all together, giving it a kind of coherence that it currently lacks.

7. Wrong Order of Events

The romantic relationship should be resolved LAST in a romance. You begin with it first, you end with it last. It’s the main reason for the story and, as the focus, it has to remain center stage. Once you’ve resolved the romance, the story is effectively over. We’ve all read books that broke that rule and probably never finished them. Now you know why.

Your synopsis should reveal that you end with the resolution of the romance - and if it doesn’t show that you begin with it, your chapters should show that.

Oops. Reynaud and Melissa cement their romantic relationship before they get back to Boston. Many readers won’t even read the end of the story, then, or worse, they might chuck the book at the wall. I need to fix that.

8. No Nobility of Purpose

Romance novels are the cultural descendants of medieval morality plays and fairy tales. What this means is that good must be rewarded and evil must be punished in a romance novel. It also means that the characters need to act in what we consider to be a noble way. This is what makes them larger than life, and even sympathetic. Reynaud and Melissa are pretty much looking out for number 1 here, which doesn’t persuade us as readers to care very much about them. This could be linked to the issue of stakes - if they were united to save the world, for example, we’d think better of them, and care more about the story’s resolution.

I’ll give my protagonists a more noble purpose.

9. “Risky” Details

Markets are funny things; they change constantly, they show aversions and attractions that are not always rational. Some settings in romance are tougher to sell than others, for example, and some cultures are perceived to be less sympathetic than others. Unless you have a really good reason to make your book a “risky” book, why adversely affect its potential in the market?

In this case, for example, there’s no particularly good reason for Reynaud to be French, or for his past to have been in Renaissance Paris. Why is there a European connection in this book at all? I just wanted him to be old! If I had been particularly intent upon an event in French history (or several) or some facet of French culture as a way of unravelling this story, that would be a different situation. French names, like many non-English names, are difficult for many readers to pronounce, which may make a reader avoid a book with characters with those names. I could at least choose an easier French name to pronounce - like Marc, or Raymond. I also need to think about what names “sound heroic”. There are lots of articles written about this, in the RWR and elsewhere. I could also change the setting of the backstory to one that sells better since it’s not that important. Similarly, you’ll want to make sure that your secondary characters don’t have names that are similar to those of your protagonists, so there’s no chance of readers becoming confused.

So, I can review the details of my story, to make it potentially easier to market.

10. Incorporating the Details

What does this title have to do with anything? The title is one of those elements of continuity in a strong synopsis. A meaningful title, linked to the story, makes for a more compelling proposal. Why exactly does Reynaud think being a mortal is better? He should have a good reason to want to stop being an immortal, shouldn’t he? These are the kinds of things that make a synopsis - and a book - hang together as a coherent whole.

Phew! Back to the drawing board for another stronger version of this synopsis.

And presto, with the miracle of cut-and-paste, here it is:

SYNOPSIS EXAMPLE- REVISED/SECOND DRAFT
Capture the Moon - Synopsis
by Claire Delacroix

©2005 Claire Delacroix Inc.

Capture the Moon is a light-hearted sensuous vampire romance, set in Boston past and present, between a no-nonsense investigative reporter and the tempermental vampire who has impatiently waited centuries to be redeemed by her love.

Maximilian (Max) Smythe has been a vampire long enough to have learned how to hunt. He has never been enamored of the life of an immortal, because he believes it to be a mark of the damned, and has spent the last two centuries seeking a means to become mortal again. He has persuaded another immortal to surrender the secret, but the process is demanding. He must find his destined love. He must persuade her to surrender her own blood to him willingly. He must drink her blood, directly from her flesh, on the night of a new moon, and he must do all of this before the 200th anniversary of his becoming a vampire. Finally, this ritual is so deeply taboo in vampire circles, that it is known only by the euphemism “capturing the moon”. Max must therefore complete the ritual in secrecy. If he fails, he will be shunned for all eternity - Max isn’t the kind of guy who fails so that doesn’t worry him.

Unfortunately, Max has incomplete information. If the ritual of “capturing the moon” is interrupted, dire consequences result for both parties - their souls will be consigned neither to immorality or mortality but to limbo. What Max knows is that he has two months, two new moons, left to achieve his goal.

Fortunately, he has found his soulmate, though she is oblivious to his attentions. Max has watched Melissa Cornwall sleep, he has dreamed of her during the days he spends hidden in darkness, he has heard the pulse of her heart calling to him. He believes in destined love, but has no sense of the day-to-day compromises of living with a loved one - Max is accustomed to being self-determining and answers to no one. He is certain, therefore, that Melissa will easily be persuaded to give him what he wants of her.

Hallowe’en is the night before the next new moon. Max can’t imagine that he’ll need more than one night to seduce his destined lover to his viewpoint. Even better, she’s going to a Hallowe’en party, where the extreme pallor of his flesh, even the oddity of his 18th century manners, will be less noticeable.

Best of all, such a party is easy to attend uninvited.

Melissa Cornwall is an investigative reporter, driven to succeed. Journalism is in her blood, after all - her father was an investigative reporter, one of the best, and she was devastated when he was found dead a year ago. Her father raised Melissa alone after her mother’s death, and the pair were very close. Melissa’s own experience with love and that of her father’s, has convinced her that love is a pattern of daily respect. She doesn’t believe in soul mates or grand passions - she thinks that good partners make a rational decision to be together then compromise to make it work. That’s how it was with her dad - she loved him (though not in a grand passion kind of way) he loved her, and they worked together to solve any conflicts between them.

Melissa and her father were close enough that Melissa knew something was up when her father went out on the night that he died. She knew him well enough to know that he was on the trail of a big story, even though he wouldn’t tell her anything about it. Melissa thinks that her father’s death was suspicious, and her boss agreed, for a while. Now, Melissa has been warned by her boss to let her father’s death go, because the police have decided that it was an accidental death and not a murder. But Melissa has found her father’s files and decoded them, and knows that he was close to identifying the controlling player in a drug-running organization.

And she knows that that individual will be at a certain Hallowe’en party, because she has figured out that an exchange is going to occur at that party. She manages to get invited, she even manages to figure out where the deal will go down in the house and to pick out a couple of those people involved, but to her dismay, someone seems to have seen through her disguise. An elegant and sexy man keeps trying to waylay here, and keeps stepping into her view of the doings. He is persistent, even comes up with some story that they’re destined to be together. At the stroke of midnight, the players ease toward the back room where the exchange will occur - Melissa tries to follow, the charming man corners her, lays a kiss on that would be incredible if she wasn’t so mad at him, and she misses the exchange.

Worse, there’s a murder. She hasn’t seen it and the cops are at the door before she can gather any information for the story. The bad guys she has recognized are gone, and in the ensuing investigation, her cover is blown. She’s pretty annoyed to have not learned much at all, but on the upside, she manages to get a copy of the guest list for the party. She asks incidentally about her kissing bandit and the host doesn’t know him.

Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy wasn’t invited, which makes him lead #1 as far as Melissa is concerned.

It also makes him suspect #1 for the police, which means that Melissa has to find him first.

Meanwhile, Max’s old enemy has discovered his bold plan. Catherine MacIntyre has never gotten over Max’s rejection of her, even though it’s been centuries. And making him into a vampire not only didn’t change his mind about her, but it made matters worse: immortal social circles are comparatively small and she is forever crossing paths with Max. She sees the opportunity to be rid of him for once and for all by foiling his attempt to capture the moon.

Etc…

You can probably see that this is a much stronger synopsis, even though it isn’t finished. The questions we raised have been addressed, and you can see that we will definitely have a dark moment at the climax, as all of these forces come together. You may have also noticed that I fiddled with the structure a bit, sliding in some of the Meet before fully introducing Melissa. There is some fluidity in the structure I’m recommending to you - what’s most important is that the synopsis flows.

Part of the reason I didn’t finish this was that I wanted you to think about the structure of the story from this point forward yourself. What must happen to resolve all the issues I’ve introduced? How will the conflict be resolved? How can we be sure that Melissa and Max’s HEA is forever - or as close to forever as mortals get? You can probably glimpse the dark moment being Catherine’s intervention in their attempt to capture the moon - how could that be made less predictable and even darker?

Another part of the reason is that I find it exhausting to write synopses. Don’t be surprised if you find it tiring too! It requires you to think about your story at any entirely different level, at a global level, and integrate a lot of detail and nuance. Plus you need to do it succinctly. Writing synopses is hard.

The third reason, of course, is that I really like this synopsis and am thinking about finishing it as a proposal. It was changing the hero’s name to Max that did it for me!

Q&A time now - you can start posting your questions, and I’ll try to answer them tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I’m off to think about Max…