The HEA Cafe

It’s Q&A day at the Café!

First off, I’m glad that so many of you have found the workshop helpful. The first thing we need to acknowledge is that offering workshops here was Lyn Cote’s idea. Thanks Lyn! You can look for additional workshops in future - they will always be scheduled in the third week of the month, although some will be all week and some will be one-day workshops. They’ll all be taught by RWAOL’s published authors.

Several of you mention a dread of writing synopses - I hope this changes now that you can see the synopsis as a tool and not a chore. The other thing is that you need to leave time for the synopsis. It’s a different way of thinking, a higher level of viewing story and story elements. For example, when I work on a book, I write 3000 to 4000 words a day. That’s 12 to 16 pages or so, double-spaced. An 8 page synopsis, also double-spaced, will take me an entire week to compose. Every single sentence has to be there for a reason and every single element has to make sense.

Writing a synopsis is not easy and is definitely a skill that needs to be cultivated.
I often write the first strokes of the synopsis and then write a scene from the book. I’ve learned that my characters don’t always play along with my ideas, and that their ideas tend to be pretty good. Then I’ll go back to the synopsis and refine the characterization paragraphs. In explaining the rest of the story, it’s helpful to ask WHY? after every development presented. I can either add “because blah blah blah” or I don’t know, and have to step away from the computer to think about it. Knitting is a great help to composing a synopsis, btw - it keeps my fingers busy while my imagination wanders off to find the solution.

Pam asks:

Can I assume that finding all the missing pieces gets easier with experience? I think new writers just don’t SEE what’s missing becuase they don’t know better. I have been making a mental checklist of major points Claire has brought up like: How many events are based on coincidence? Is ____ strong enough to carry 110,000 words? And so on…

Well, yes, I think it does. The synopsis is a different way of looking at the story, and as I mentioned in the comments section yesterday, you develop an ability to slip into Synopsis Mode more easily over time. Good editors are pretty much always in Synopsis Mode! It’s a much more critical way of reading - asking WHY? after every sentence - but once you know how to do it, you might find it hard to not do it. That can make you a bit of a drag to be with at the movie theatre.

Jennifer asks:

Question, you suggested not to place subplots in the synopsis except as a reference. What if a subplot arcs for a good portion of the book? Not diminishing the romance but using a minor character that affects the major characters and shows their emotional growth. Is it distracting to give it a couple sentences or should I stick to the ‘engine’ of the story if you will?

You may want to think about the importance you’ve assigned to the subplot. The very fact that you’re wanting to include it in the synopsis makes me wonder whether it’s taking more of the stage than it should. (Here’s another example of the synopsis being a tool for structuring the book!) In a romance, subplots need to be very tightly constrained because they do take the focus from the central couple. I have on occasion included a mention of a subplot - “a humourous subplot about the romantic adventures of the hero’s clumsy but well-intentioned companion leavens the plot” - but if you can’t cut it down that far (or leave it out altogether) then I’d suggest to you that it’s not really small enough to be a subplot. Either spin it off to its own book or completely axe it. (It’s easier, btw, to do the big cuts yourself than to watch someone else do them for you.)
Another thought for all or you - or a reminder:

There are no perfect synopses. There are stronger ones and weaker ones, but every synopsis can use a tweak or two. The trick is to eliminate as many of the obvious problems as you can before an editor sees it. Don’t make it easy for an editor to pass on your work by, for example, filling your plot with coincidences.

Also, the finished book doesn’t have to perfectly match the synopsis. There are no synopsis cops and it’s likely that no one will even notice a digression, especially if you’ve identified the turning points correctly. If I’ve explained what will make Max trust Melissa, and that his trust will let him show her the truth of what he is, then it’s not that important whether he comes to trust her on page 200 or on page 275 of the manuscript. A good synopsis doesn’t lock you down; it just provides a guide, and one that has some fluidity.

I’ll check back later to see if there are more questions.

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…

Yesterday, we talked about the components that need to be included in your synopsis. Today, we’ll discuss how to fit them all in there, and look at a sample synopsis. Tomorrow, I’ll use the sample synopsis as an example in troubleshooting, then Friday, we’ll do Q&A.
III. FORMAT & A SAMPLE SYNOPSIS

So, how do you get all this stuff into a synopsis? What if I tell you that you shouldn’t need ten pages, double spaced to do all of this?

If the synopsis isn’t going to literally recount the whole story, then you can save a lot of space. In fact, the focus should be on the set up of the story. Also, the “rules” we use in writing stories don’t apply to synopses - it’s perfectly fine, for example, to tell rather than show in a synopsis. This makes sense as there’s no dialogue in a synopsis: you can just say that your hero is impatient or imperious or imperfect .

This is how I write my synopses, but as mentioned earlier, everyone is different and there are no perfect synopses. With any luck, this will give you a plan of attack and get you started.

1. I begin with that summary paragraph, which will only be three or four lines long.

2. Then, I explain one character’s history and situation (usually the hero, because my books are strongly focused on the hero) what got him here, what made him what he is, what he believes and what he wants. This should be very concise - we probably don’t care what he looks like, for example, at least not in the synopsis. This paragraph shows that the character is sympathetic and should also illuminate his/her internal conflict (which always comes from backstory).

3. Then I do a similar description for the other character - usually, the heroine. Again, we’re talking one or two paragraphs. By the bottom of the second (double-spaced) page of the synopsis, there’s the Meet.

4. In the Meet, the issues should be clear between the two characters here and their opinions clear. The obstacles they must surmount should also be clear. This is where you present the external conflict.

5. Then I summarize the progression of the story, or more accurately, the sequence of challenges to each character’s perspectives. You need to show the resolution of the conflict in incremental, plausible steps. Focus on the key moments or turning points: What makes her decide to believe him? What makes him decide she was right all along? When does she realize she loves him? etc. There should be a sense of building tension, even in the synopsis, that culminates in one big confrontation or climax where everything is finally sorted out and resolved.

The best way to deal with this one is to think of the story as a ball bearing in a pinball machine. One character has to give it a push to get it going in one direction: the other pushes back to send the ball bearing in another direction, on and on to your end goal. Everything should proceed because of something else, making a logical progression through the book. Think cause and effect. Think of a game of Hot Potato. Your heroine does something, which makes your hero think something else, which makes him do something, which makes her believe something, which makes her respond to him in this way….and so on and so on.

Consider each scene and its import - every single one should be there to achieve a specific purpose. When a book or synopsis fails at this, it’s often labeled “episodic”. This means that event follows event for no discernible reason and the story doesn’t seem to go anywhere. (Check in yesterday’s post for links to my blog entries on fixing episodic books.)

6. And then, naturally, the happily ever after ending.

Because I write romance, I include the emotional details in the synopsis. What does each character think of love? What does each character think of marriage? What does each character think of sex? By the end of the book, of course, they both trust each other, have been physically and emotionally intimate, and generally have married or decided to marry. In romance, intimacy (physical or emotional) quite frequently marks a turning point in the resolution of an internal conflict, whether the character in question sees it or not. I usually include the consummation in the synopsis, because I think this is romantically significant, but often I’m wrong about the timing of it. I’m always right though about the emotional change it accompanies - because I sell on proposal, its quite common for the characters to change the direction of the plot in the actual writing of the book

SAMPLE SYNOPSIS
Capture the Moon - Synopsis
by Claire Delacroix

©2005 Claire Delacroix Inc.

Capture the Moon is a light-hearted sexy vampire romance, set in contemporary Boston and Renaissance Paris, between a no-nonsense investigative reporter and the passionate vampire who has impatiently waited centuries to claim her as his eternal soulmate.

Reynaud de Corneille has been waiting a long time for salvation. Made a vampire in Paris in 1620, he has seen everyone he knew and loved pass away, as well as the life he knew and loved. The thrill of otherworldly power faded quickly for him, as did the lure of immortality. Reynaud is lonely and misses being mortal. He has learned over the centuries that he can become mortal again by drinking the blood of his one true love. A man whose romantic notions led to his becoming a vampire against his own will, Reynaud finds a certain appeal in this notion, no less in the warning that his true love must surrender her blood willingly to him.

Reynaud is, however, impatient. He has been seeking this woman for a long time, traveling incessantly with no luck. In his current identity, he has styled himself as an artist, the better to explain his eccentric schedule. By chance, he attends a Hallowe’en party in his neighborhood and spies the woman in question. He recognizes her immediately and he doesn’t wait for an introduction to see his issue resolved.

Melissa Cornwall is an investigative reporter, driven to succeed. She’s sure that she’ll be the next big name on the news, the famous reporter who always gets the inside scoop. It hasn’t worked out that way so far, but she remains optimistic. After all, her dad was an ace reporter so it must be in her blood. She is persuaded by a friend to go to a Hallowe’en party - and stop working for one night - but taking a night off proves to be bizarre. A guy in full gothic garb insists that she is his one true love, that he is a vampire, and that she has to accompany him immediately and share her blood with him. This would be more creepy if he wasn’t so charming. And handsome. And if she didn’t get all hot and bothered just looking at him.

Since Reynaud has spent five centuries waiting for Melissa to reappear, he is blunt in stating their twined fates and his expectation of her. A romantic to the core, he is certain that fated love can’t be thwarted - he’s also sure he shouldn’t have to do anything much less compromise to make love work. Because Melissa has no faith in anything she can’t see - and is at a wild Halloween party to boot - she concludes that he is either drunk or crazy and ignores his claim as she moves away. Her disregard infuriates Reynaud, who as a direct result, kidnaps her, intending to do whatever is necessary to persuade her to his point of view. They’re destined to be together, after all.

Melissa, however, doesn’t share Reynaud’s perspective, even after he lays a kiss on her that just about melts her bones. In fact, it’s a bit scary that she could be attracted to a man who is obviously a few bricks short of a load. She resolves to escape, and to notify the authorities about the insane artist loose in Boston’s streets. When Reynaud leaves her alone the following morning, she flees. She does go to the authorities, but they don’t believe her.

A cat-and-mouse game ensues, with Reynaud pursuing Melissa each night. The sexual attraction between them increases with each encounter, which just makes Melissa more afraid of his mysterious power over her (or at least over her body). She resolves to find out more about him, and discovers that his name and identity come from a dead baby - he doesn’t really exist. This convinces her that he must be a criminal of some kind and she accuses him of as much when next they meet. Reynaud, faced with no choice, confesses the truth of his quest and his nature to Melissa. She doesn’t believe him and declares that she never wants to see him again. Reynaud, fearing that she really will be able to evade him and that he will lose his chance at mortality, captures her once again.

This time, he takes her to Renaissance Paris, travelling back in time to show her how the whole story began. They are like ghosts, in this time to which neither belongs, and she witnesses how he was made a vampire against his will. She also sees his character more clearly when he was mortal, and sympathy for him allows her to admit that there is much she admires about him, beyond his ability to rouse her. They make love in Renaissance Paris, and she allows Reynaud to drink her blood.

This leaves Reynaud as a mortal in Renaissance Paris, which although charming, is not where Melissa wants to be. Melissa, meanwhile, has become a vampire herself, a detail which she did not anticipate. Reynaud offers to let her drink his blood, thereby completing the spell, but Melissa finds the notion repugnant and refuses. Also, she is afraid that they will both end up trapped in this time period instead of her own if she does so.

The pair has many adventures as Melissa learns to control her new powers. She is a quick study and Reynaud has a difficult time keeping up with her in his mortal form. His diligence and concern for her welfare convinces Melissa that he really loves her, and the pair exchange sweet confessions.

Finally, Melissa manages to master the technique of passing through time and she brings Reynaud back to the present day. She drinks his blood in Boston, becoming mortal again herself, and the pair live happily ever after.

N.B. This could be fleshed out more, particularly in terms of the progression of the story, and I would do that if submitting it to a publisher. But we’re going to talk this synopsis more tomorrow…

Today we’ll look at the components of a successful synopsis. Be aware that there are many variations, and I’m sharing the way I do mine. You might modify what I’m suggesting to better suit yourself. It’s okay. There are no synopsis police.
II. WHAT THE SYNOPSIS SHOULD COMMUNICATE

A. The Kind of Book

First and foremost, the kind of book you have written should be immediately clear from the synopsis.

Of course, you should be submitting this manuscript to a publisher who prints that kind of book. This is not as foolish as it sounds - the vast majority of unsolicited submissions which are rejected are rejected for this simple reason. You must research the imprint and publisher you target. The synopsis will reveal whether the author understands the marketing niche of the line to which he or she has submitted. It will show whether you have done your homework.

One of the simplest ways to communicate the kind of book you’ve written is to just say what kind of book it is.

What elements or keywords might you include?
• the broad genre category - like “romance” or “mystery”
• the setting - like “historical” or “contemporary” or “time travel”
• the submarket - like “paranormal” or “romantic suspense”
• the tone of the book - like “humorous” or “gothic”
• any major elements that might be interesting to the house - like “cowboy”, “military”, fireman”, “baby”, “bride”, etc. You might figure out what these are from listening to editors in sessions at RWA’s National conference, or by reading the publisher’s tipsheets, or by visiting the publisher website, or just by reading a lot of the books that the house publishes.

I usually begin my synopses with a short introductory paragraph. I put this at the beginning of the synopsis and set it off from the more detailed explanation that follows with a line space.

Here’s an example, for a story that we’ll use throughout this workshop.

“CAPTURE THE MOON is a light-hearted sensuous vampire romance, set in contemporary Boston and Renaissance Paris, between a no-nonsense investigative reporter and the temperamental vampire who has impatiently waited centuries to claim her as his eternal soul mate.”

That’s one sentence. It’s doing a lot of work in a couple of lines! From this, you know that CTM is a fantasy romance, that there’s some time travel or history involved, that the book is sexy, that it’s light and funny, rather than dark. Anyone reading this at the publisher already has a glimpse of the characterizations, and the polarization of those characterizations. There’s a hint of the conflict, because anyone could guess that these two characters aren’t going to view the world the same way.

Ideally, this will be the kind of book that the house is currently seeking. When you get a quick rejection, it’s often because the editor can tell immediately that your story doesn’t fit what he or she is buying. It means that either you haven’t done your homework, or that the house has changed its direction. If this is what the house is buying, then this little snippet will serve the book well in the packaging and sales process.

Btw, subplots generally are not explored in the synopsis, no matter how cool you think yours are. They might be mentioned in passing, or not - that will depend upon whether they affect the resolution of the central conflict - but they seldom are fully articulated.

B. Storytelling

The second job of the synopsis is to show that the author knows how to construct a story. Storytelling is a very hard thing to teach and something that (fortunately!) many writers do intuitively. This has less to do with the sales process and more to do with the book itself - and will affect the editor’s interest in seeing the rest of the work.

What you need to show in your synopsis (to prove yourself to be a storyteller) is not just a sequence of events but the movement of the story towards a resolution, a movement that is predictable in some ways and surprising in others.

That’s harder than it sounds. Characters must learn something over the course of the book to satisfy the reader; issues have to be presented, explored and resolved. Characters and events should not just pop up and disappear forever - they must be tied into the fabric of the story. Many books end with a similar scene to the opening scene, for example, because we like circular motifs in storytelling. The synopsis reveals that you know your craft, that you know the task of each element you have introduced to the story.

There should, by the way, be no surprises in a synopsis. One of the classic mistakes that new authors make is to end the synopsis abruptly, saying something like “you’ll have to read the book to find out the ending!” This does not show your ability as a storyteller - the synopsis itself is not a forum for storytelling per se. Another analogy is a magician: you can see his show and be amazed by his tricks. This is similar to the book. Alternatively, you can take a backstage tour and be shown how the tricks are done, and how he saves the more thrilling tricks for last. This is more similar to the synopsis. The editor knows that there is a trick to storytelling - what he or she wants to know is whether you have learned it.

One of the hallmarks of a synopsis that fails to show storytelling ability is a sense of disjointedness. The reader wonders why they’re being told all these things that have nothing to do with each other - the book may echo this same confusion. Characters and events feel ‘convenient’ and the story may be criticized for relying heavily on coincidence. Event follows event with no apparently connection or resolution. And there is no use of emphasis - the cast of supporting characters are not designated to be more or less important to the plot resolution.

The best way to understand this is to think of how children tell stories - most of them create lousy synopses! A child will recount events, giving each equal weight: “we went to the zoo and we saw the tigers and one was sleeping and we had ice cream and the polar bear went swimming and mommy lost her earring and the penguins were funny…” It’s almost stream of consciousness. There’s no connection between events, except that they happened to the child. Nothing builds, nothing is resolved, events may even be presented out of order. This is an “episodic” presentation. Synopses that are criticized for being episodic are those that show no structure. This doesn’t necessarily mean that the book doesn’t have structure, though it often is a telling sign. (For more on Episodic Plots and how to fix them, check out these three posts on my blog: #1, #2, #3.

C. Characterization

Thirdly, the synopsis should reveal the kind of characters you’ve created. The publisher needs to know that the characters are admirable, noble and sympathetic. They also have to make sense, act reasonably and have motivations that seem acceptably “real”. They have to be consistent.

This is a requirement of synopses that may be unique for romance of all market genres, because the success of a romance depends very much upon the characterizations of the protagonists. 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 deal with this is to include a thumbnail sketch of each protagonist in your synopsis. State who they are and what critical events have given them the attitudes that they hold. How did they get to this point? What brings them to this conflict, and what baggage are they carrying? In the synopsis for a romance, it’s helpful to include the characters’ perspective on love and/or marriage - giving the hero and heroine divergent viewpoints can create instant conflict.

Our vampire, for instance, might believe in the power of destined love, while the reporter thinks love is a bunch of misty-eyed bunk. I firmly believe that one character has to understand love in order to make the romance work - I would probably twist this further and have the vampire be the one who doesn’t understand the nuts and bolts of love, just the grand concept, and the heroine be the other way around. This way, the conflict would be layered. She’s his destiny but he’s not 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.
D. The Conflict and its Resolution

Which brings us to the fourth issue of interest - the synopsis must illuminate the conflict and its resolution. In a romance novel, this is often the development of the romance itself. The synopsis 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. It must show the progression from A to B. In a romance, it must primarily show the development of the central relationship, moving it (typically) from antagonism to eternal love.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that you must include every nuance of that progression. You might think of your story in terms of turning points, or in terms of gradations of bringing your protagonists’ points of view into alliance. Maybe each character takes three big steps from A to B - your synopsis would show those steps. What changes each character’s mind? What makes them think differently? Ideally, it should be the other protagonist.

Also, a major part of the conflict in a romance will involve love. What are the protagonist’s respective perspectives on love and marriage? How are these perspectives changed or altered by contact with the other protagonist? What do the two protagonists find attractive about each other - and what do they find annoying about each other? When does each protagonist realize he/she is in love, and why? When is the relationship consummated - and what is the event that triggers the deed. Ideally, the synopsis will show the major shifts in each character’s pov, the steps that get each one from A to B.

Also, in a romance as in many story forms, the good guys are rewarded and the bad guys are punished; those who are confused or misguided are reformed. There is no middle ground: there is good and there is evil and there are no other options. Romance protagonists (i.e. the hero and the heroine) must always be good guys, even if they don’t look like good guys at the beginning of the book. If one looks like a “bad guy”, then it is love, or the other protagonist, who finds the good in the bad one’s heart AND brings it to the fore. This is particularly important when writing dark heroes.

Finally, in finding true love and conquering any obstacles to it, the hero and heroine must be materially rewarded. This is why romances must have “happily ever after” endings - the tragic ending, while it may make the story romantic, is not the hallmark of a romance novel.

Fulfilling these expectations is part of your compact with your reader and a synopsis will reveal whether or not you understand how to do your job.
We’ll talk about some techniques for fitting all this information into 8 double-spaced pages tomorrow.