The Fab Four Synopsis-Creation Method

I’m doing a synopsis-brainstorming session this week with my plotting students (If you’d like access to such fun sessions, join the Plot Blueprint Course! http://bit.ly/plotblueprint).  They might be disappointed not to end up with a complete 10-page synopsis (in 2 hours? :), but this isn’t about writing the synopsis but rather conceptualizing the story in miniature– BEFORE writing the story synopsis.

(BORING STUFF HERE ABOUT WHAT A SYNOPSIS IS. Synopsis: A narrative summary of a longer story, used primarily to “sell” the story to editors and agents.BLABLABLA)

I’ve read a few thousand synopses– the price of a stint as an acquiring editor– and generally that’s what they are: Boring Stuff.  A long stringy outline of disconnected plot events.  A couple “hot taglines” and a “hook” and a final “insightful sentence”.  A resulting sense of futility and failure.

Hey, let’s not do that.

Maybe you have to write a synopsis because you want to submit to an editor or agent. Maybe you need one for your publicity packet so that interviewers will have questions for you even if they don’t actually read the book. Maybe you are going to address a book club and want to provide some explanatory material. Maybe you are planning the sequel to a story and want to make sure it connects thematically.

I mean, no one writes a synopsis because it’s fun (because it isn’t fun). But if you have to do it, let’s have some fun– and in having fun, we’ll end up with a much better synopsis and even a better understanding of what the audience will love about our story.

So… no one’s more fun than the Fab Four, right? Got to stop and say the Beatles are on my mind this week because I’m listening to the amazing Andrew Hickey’s podcast, History of Rock Music in 500 Songs, and he just covered “All You Need Is Love.” Check it out.

Okay, okay, some will point out that using the Beatles as a reference will date me. Ha! I was a member of the original 1965 US Beatles fan club, and now my grandbaby is going to be raised as a Beatle fan (if I have any say in the matter!). The Beatles are timeless… just like me. :)

Here they are — timelessly adorable.

The Fab Four.

John, Paul, George, Ringo.  The Beatles are the absolute proof of the truism that “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” So is your story. It’s not plot+character+setting+theme+emotion+voice+prose+dialogue.  All those things come together like the Beatles to be more than the sum of elements– they interact to become the story.

First thing then is to think of the synopsis as a “mini-story”, not a plot outline.  This isn’t about events. This is about the feel of the story, the sound of your voice, the journey of the characters, as created by the merging of plot+character+setting+theme+emotion+voice+prose+dialogue.

Second tip is to move beyond those pieces of story to the integrative aspects of the story– the sort of secret ingredients that YOU put into the story, you the author who thinks and feels and speaks and writes in a unique way that might seem separate but work together so well in you.

Where do the Beatles come in?

Well, if you know anything about them, you know that each is unique himself, and has become sort of a “signifier” of a particular aspect of the whole. You know, Paul is the cute one, Ringo the funny one, etc.

Here’s my own categorization of the boys in the band. It will not be the same as yours perhaps, but here is what I think each contributes to the whole that is the Beatles (and keep track, because these will be the elements of our synopsis-conceptualization).

John: The Passion. Sure, John Lennon is usually considered “the smart one”, but “passion” is what he really manifested from the first, when he impetuously demanded that that kid with the bass guitar join his new band, through his wildly romantic disruptions, to his tragic death. He’s all despair and obsession and longing. What’s the passion in your story? What’s the John? What’s the central emotion, the demand you make on your reader to FEEL THIS!

Now I don’t mean that every story has to be wildly emotional. After all, John wrote the almost sociopathically chill song “Norwegian Wood” (around the same time he wrote the achingly poignant “In My Life”). But just as “Norwegian Wood” conveys the emotion of someone just exhausted by emotion, even your most clinical cyberpunk story has some passion in it, I bet. Maybe it’s the subliminal terror of technological apocalypse, or the secret longing for a more organic life, or something else– something that arose out of what you or your characters want or fear. What’s that?

That’s the JOHN of your story. That’s what I’ve always thought of as the “heart of the story”– the central emotional experience that creates the plot propulsion. It doesn’t have to be flashy. I have a story where the “heart” is two lonely, quiet people finding the courage to love again. What about yours? What will the audience feel while reading your story?

Paul: The Curiosity.  What? Paul– the writer of the “silly little love songs”, the devoted husband and father, the band cheerleader– isn’t the emotion center, the heart, the passion? Nah. I’m sure he’s just as sweet as he always seemed to me (of course, I went for the cute one!). But musically, within the Beatles, Paul was all about experimentation, novelty, fusion– “I wonder what will happen if…” You know, it wasn’t John or George who championed the very young Jimi Hendrix and his guitar experimentation– it was Paul, who also dabbled in weird electronic music even as he resurrected the oompah melodies of his father’s music hall tradition.

While the John-penned songs tended to be melodic cries from the heart (“Help!”), Paul would justforthehellovit mix traditional harmonies with off-beat characters (“Paperback Writer”), then transcend rock (guitar+drum) entirely with the symphonic “She’s Leaving Home”. Many of the groundbreaking experiments on Revolver and Sgt. Pepper (along with the very concept of the “concept album”) were inspired by Paul’s curiosity. And this is why he’s now regarded as the most technically impressive of the Beatles, the most musically interesting, even if he mostly wrote (as he called it) “silly little love songs”.

 What’s the Paul in your story?

What’s curious and unexpected in your presentation of the plot and characters? What’s experimental and what’s a throwback? It might be your convention-busting approach to a conventional story (“The Three Little Pigs” told from the wolf’s point of view??), or your fusion of genres, or your innovative juxtaposition of tropes, or your Paulish delight in alliteration and rhythm.   What might go right over the head of a casual reader but be recognized by an editor or agent as truly exceptional? What most reflects the uniqueness of your voice and vision, or your particular excellence?

George: The Spirituality. George was the youngest Beatle, and the one most involved in that era’s spiritual awakening, most eager to bust free of the hidebound mindset of postwar Britain. And the other Beatles bemusedly followed his lead to India and meditation and weird harmonic convergences in music. At the time, some cynics thought of him as a dilettante, dabbling in practices he didn’t understand. But spirituality was a lifelong quest for him, giving him the courage to ask the really big questions that western philosophy and religion didn’t fully answer– about purpose and inner peace and being simultaneously “within you and without you”.

Like Paul, George liked to experiment, especially with non-western stringed instruments like the sitar and the ukelele. In fact, his experiments in music are a lot more apparent, especially in the middle period (Revolver and Rubber Soul) where his use of Indian melodies give many songs a unique and fresh sound. Later he would laugh about the amateurishness of his early sitar skills, but that willingness to risk failure, to be a beginner again, is a necessity for spiritual seeking. He sought answers, but not “yes/no” answers– more he was seeking insights, enlightenment– and more questions.  For George, the journey was the destination.

What’s the George in your story? Are you exploring any deep questions about identity or connection? Are you using interrogative techniques like a mystery or quest structure? Do you take your characters on a journey from one life or emotion condition to another? What themes or message do you want to convey in this story? And is there some seeking of your own that inspires the story? What in this story shows your desire to discover, learn, become more?

Ringo: The Fun. Ringo is the odd-man-out alongside this trio of serious seekers. But of course, he’s essential to the totality of the Beatles– supplying the irreverence, the tolerance, the pleasure, the downright FUN.  First off, of course, he’s effortlessly comedic, tossing off funny lines, beaming that infectious grin, jovially refusing to be impressed or intimidated. Heck, he wasn’t afraid to sing lead in his uncertain baritone, even there in a studio with three accomplished singers. He was even willing to stick his own goofy fun song “Octopus’s Garden” in the middle of the epic album Abbey Road. And he laughingly joined into the role-playing of the Sgt. Pepper band, poking fun at his own status in “With a Little Help From My Friends”.

Through fame and fortune, tragedy and tumult, Ringo was always clearly having a good time, and reminding his gloomier bandmates that rock and roll is supposed to be fun.  No surprise he later entertained a new generation as the narrator for the Thomas the Train cartoon series.  But Ringo is a good reminder that fun doesn’t have to be shallow, as his compassion and serenity manifest in his sunny attitude. Most of all, his humor derives from his impressive self-confidence, which is leavened with a easygoing tolerance for others.

So where is the Ringo in your story? Even if this isn’t a comedy, is there an undercurrent of humor or unpredictability in your prose or your situations? Are your descriptions colorful and quirky? Are your characters all uniquely themselves, rendered with your authorial empathy? And maybe your whole story shows that self-love and confidence that always characterizes Ringo? If you’re asked, “What will your audience find fun about your story,” what would you pinpoint?

Okay, now what? Jot down your insights about those essential elements in your story here:

John: The Passion of my story is                                                       

Paul: The Curiosity of my story is                                                       

George: The Spirituality of my story is                                                       

Ringo: The Fun of my story is                                                       

Done? Is that the synopsis? Of course  not.  You still have to do all the plot summarizing and character journeying and theme developing stuff. But… but before you get into the boring part, start with the passion, the curiosity, the spirituality, and the fun. Figure those out in your story, and then we can get going on how to incorporate those into your synopsis so it won’t be boring at all.

After I work through all this with my plotting students, I’ll get back with some examples of infusing the Beatles into a synopsis. In the meantime, try this exercise for yourself, with the Beatles singing for you.Here’s my Spotify playlist for this exercise! (You’ll have to sign up for an account, but it’s free.)

Tagged as: plot

Great tag line

Sex.
Power.
Murder.


Amen.


The Borgias.


Saw that on a magazine ad. 

Alicia's March Workshop -- Synopsis Writing

Do you have to write a synopsis? Do you dread it?

Are your queries and proposals being form-rejected, and you know you’re writing well?

Is your synopsis too long and you can’t figure out how to cut it?

Well, this class is for you. In two weeks, we’re going to work on creating a sensational synopsis of any length, from the one paragraph version for a query or pitch, a one-pager, or a longer one to go with the proposal. You choose!

The trick is to leave the plot behind. Too many writers get bogged down in events, and end up with a boring chronicle of “this happened, then this happened.” I can tell you from having to evaluate many proposals that this sort of synopsis will bore the editor– yes, no matter how good your story is. Instead, we’ll concentrate on writing a synopsis that reflects your entire story, not just the plot. I call it the SCORE method:

Situation

Character

Organization

Revelation

Epiphany

By focusing your presentation on that, you can weave in plot events but never lose the coherence and intensity of the story. In this interactive workshop, you’ll work on presenting your own story in your own voice, so that the editor will want to read the book.

If you’re facing the difficult job of writing a synopsis, here’s your chance to get expert guidance and feedback. This two-week class will be conducted entirely in an email list, with a limited number of students. SCORE with Your Synopsis will start March 1, and costs $50. To sign up and pay for the class, click the Buy Now button in the sidebar, or email edittorrent@gmail.com.

Top five mistakes

I have a guest blog at Seekerville-- The Top Five Mistakes.
Alicia

Transition Words

Tip of the hat to Larissa Ione, who tweeted about her synopsis this morning and reminded me that I wanted to post this list of transition words. (If you're not already reading her books, what are you waiting for?)

One of the most useful things you can do in a synopsis is spackle the chinks with transitions that demonstrate the links between the components. Of all transition words, my favorite is probably "because," because it shows the causal connection between sequential events. If you can communicate those connections in a synopsis instead of merely laying out the order of events, you'll be presenting a story synopsis with the illusion of coherence. This is a good thing.

So here's the list, shamelessly swiped from some of my teaching material from the uni. Some of these are academic in tone, so be careful before incorporating them unless the tone of your synopsis will support them.

TO SHOW ADDITION
and, also, furthermore, in addition, moreover, too, next

TO GIVE EXAMPLES
for instance, in fact, specifically, to illustrate

TO COMPARE
also, similarly, likewise

TO CONTRAST
but, on the other hand, nevertheless, yet, although, on the contrary

TO SUMMARIZE OR CONCLUDE
in other words, in short, in summary, therefore, that is, to sum up

TO SHOW TIME
after, as, before, next, later, finally, meanwhile, then, immediately

TO SHOW PLACE OR DIRECTION
to the left/right, beyond, above, farther on, opposite, nearby

TO INDICATE A LOGICAL RELATIONSHIP
consequently, therefore, if, so, as a result, for this reason, since, because


Now go spackle your syns. :)

Theresa

Series synopsis

A student asked me how I'd suggest writing a "series synopsis," to go along with the proposal of the first book. (Now as Jami just reminded me, I must define that: Proposal usually equals the first 3 chapters of the first book, and a longer, more detailed synopsis of that first book. That is, this series synopsis accompanies, doesn't replace, the book synopsis.)
She wanted, sensibly, to give an idea of what the trilogy or tetraology is about, along with the more detailed first-book synopsis. But she didn't have much of the plot of the other books outlined.

I suggested that a series synopsis is (in my experience) about a page long, and goes along with the synopsis for the first book. It isn't about plot (of course, I'd say NO synopsis should be about plot-- plot-based synopses are usually so boring), but rather about the problem or situation that will carry through the whole series.

You outline that series-long situation and how it affects the main characters ("Jack Aubrey's ships are all involved in the naval war against Napoleon. This war rages over six seas and four continents, and involves complex historical issues like slavery, democracy, and colonialism. Jack is always in the middle of the action. But the huge war is not the only conflict he faces. Starting out as a young, merry lieutenant, he grows in every command to become a leader, but the problems he faces on each ship teach him to be a man too. ETC.") or the group. ("In The Church of England series, between-the-wars Anglican clergymen face dangers theological and personal as their country and their parishioners change around them during the decades leading to World War II. One by one, the clerics achieve power through their ambition, but are brought down by their spiritual failings. ETC.")

Then you might quickly sketch the first book in a paragraph, and then finish up with a paragraph about the rest:
"The second book (title) explores the growing tensions in the friendship between Stephen and Jack as they compete for the same woman. In the background of this very personal battle is the war with Napoleon, which rises to an explosive point when.... Other books in the series will address (a few big-picture and personal things). The last book of the series will resolve the major questions and reveal (some major revelation), finally bringing the warriors home to England as the war and its aftermath finally wind to a close."

That is, set up the situation that makes this a series, what connects all these books. Then sketch the first book. Then (quickly) sketch the rest of the series. You don't have to know every plot, just what the series as a whole will confront and eventually resolve.
What do you all think? Have you ever submitted a series? Did you do a series synopsis? What did the agent or editor want?
Alicia

R U Ready?

Today at Romance University, we're talking about the differences between an outline and a synopsis. These terms are sometimes used interchangeably, and sometimes not.

Theresa

Paragraph starts in the synopsis

I read a LOT of synopses submitted by writers to my publisher, and they're almost never interesting. That isn't any comment on the worth of the books summarized by the synopses, which span the spectrum from great to okay. Rather it's the nature of their synopses-- they are so often just chronicles of what happened. "This happened and then that happened."

"But isn't that what a synopsis is?" a writer might ask. "A chronicle of what happens?"

No. A synopsis is a brief presentation of the story. The story is more than the plot. The story includes character, theme, emotion, conflict, change. So maybe we should think more about that as we start a synopsis, and less about what events we're going to summarize.

But just to get really practical here-- one thing I'd suggest that doesn't require a full re-invention of the synopsis is... make use of the first sentence of the paragraph. Often the paragraph starts with an event or character action.
Example:
Jack gets a ticket and goes to her concert.

or...

The murderer strikes again, kidnapping a mob accountant and leaving his torn body by the roadside diner.


Trouble is, that can lead to a jagged read, and a seeming reliance on event rather than conflict or emotion.

So think about using the first sentence as a transition from the previous paragraph's action. The transition can be time ("Three days later" or "After that") or cause/effect (reaction rather than action-- When Jack reads that Sally is singing at the local stadium, he knows he has to go) or emotion (Jack has never gotten over Sally's betrayal) or conflict (He still had enough blackmail material to capture Sally's attention). Then have the event or action, and its effects and how it changes the story or emotional arc or character.

That first sentence in the paragraph eases into the new event as a transition from the old, making for a smoother flow. But also an emotion or conflict line there can keep the synopsis focused on the experience of the story and not just the events.

So next time you write or revise a synopsis, try putting something in front of the "event" at the start of a paragraph, transition, emotion, or conflict (or all three). Just try it, and report back!

Alicia

Motif in Query Letters

Let's start this post the same way we started our post on theme in queries, by asking a question. What is a motif?

There are a number of ways to answer that, depending on how narrowly or broadly you wish to make the definition. In the broadest sense, a motif is any recurring element. If your lovers always part at dawn (But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?), you might be using a motif. If you use a commonly recognizable character, such as the hardboiled detective, you might be drawing on a motif built up across multiple literary works.

But for our purposes, we're going to use a narrower definition of motif. Let's agree that just for now, a motif will be any recurring concrete object, circumstance, or convention that takes on symbolic or thematic meanings within the text.

Example of a recurring concrete object:
-- Carriages in Pride and Prejudice are always tied to transformative changes in relations between the main characters. If you see a carriage, you know a relationship is getting ready to flip itself inside out. Jane travels to London to see Bingley, and he changes from doting cavalier to the man who abandoned her. Lizzy travels by carriage to visit Charlotte, and Darcy changes from icy and withdrawn to his own special brand of tormented pursuit. And so on.

Example of a recurring circumstance:
-- Harry Potter flies an awful lot -- broomsticks, hippogriffs, those skeletal dragon things, the flying car, etc., etc., and those flights are usually connected to moments at which he is making a decision to fight, to escape, or otherwise to gain independence and strength.

Example of a recurring convention:
-- In Bridget Jones' Diary (the novel, not the movie), Bridget started every diary entry with her weight, number of drinks consumed, and number of cigarettes smoked, Something like:
February 2. Weight 132. Alcohol units 9. Smokes 4,327.
These entries are directly tied to Bridget's romantic happiness. Unhappy? Numbers go up. Happy? They go down.

Where a symbol can be established in a single occurrence, a motif is built in layers. They crop up again and again at key moments. It's the very repetitive nature of motifs that can make them a useful organizational tool for a query or synopsis.

Mind you, we're not talking about anything other than how to organize your condensed plot summaries. Writers have a hard time writing clear, focused summaries because, let's face it, it's not an easy task. If you can use the motif to create a roadmap, you might make your plot summary more lucid, more condensed, and even more entertaining.

Let's say, for example, that your serial killer villain always places a personal ad describing his victim before he strikes. How many victims are there? How many ads? Write down the ads for those victims, and then write a bullet list of the key events that occur between the ads. You now have a skeletal plot outline, and have only to flesh it out, and might end up with something like:

----

Detective Sandra Cornelius is called to a grisly murder scene in which a young woman was skinned alive. A personal ad is taped to the wall above the body.

SWF, 23, brunette, rides bike to work, that skin will be my trophy.

The newspaper office provides the original order for the ad, and Sandra begins following the trail of clues. The false address leads her to an abandoned farm miles from town, inhabited only by mice and spiders. But in the mailbox, she finds another ad:

SWF, 27, long blonde hair, loves to dance, those legs will be mine forever.

Sandra returns to the newspaper office, but they have no record of this ad. She begins calling dance studios and making the rounds to see if anyone has noticed suspicious behavior. Again and again, she's frustrated by a lack of evidence, but then the call comes. Another body has been found, and this time the corpse's legs have been removed.

She identifies the source of the second ad as a consumer weekly, and begins scouring all the area papers for more ads in between following other clues. No more ads appear for a week, but then in the Sunday paper, she sees an ad that chills her blood.

SWF, 32, cap of golden curls, wears a star and frequents newspaper offices and dance clubs, you will have no eyes to see me, no mouth to speak my name, and no ears to hear your own screams.

She hears footsteps on the second floor. Her weapons are up there, safely stowed in a drawer. Can she get to them before the killer gets to her? Or should she use a weapon from the first floor -- a fireplace poker, a kitchen knife? As she's deciding, a hood drops over her head from behind, and strong hands twist the fabric until she cannot breathe. The fight is on. But she knows her home better than the killer does, and she is able to back him toward a basement door with a weak latch. She counts the steps until they are right at the threshold, and then she launches them both backward just as she's about to lose consciousness. The fall breaks his grip, and she uses a hammer to knock him out and a clothesline to tie him up.

---

Now, this is far from a good plot summary. It's too long for a query, and not developed enough for a synopsis -- and it's a shaky plot with no motive, etc. -- but for our purposes, it will serve as a decent illustration. You see how the personal ads are used to act as transitions between the pieces of plot? And you see how they illustrate something meaningful about the story? Using the motif elements as touchstones like this can create a sense of unity and coherence in the plot summary.

It doesn't have to be something that would be offset and italicized like the personal ads. Above we mentioned that carriages are a recurring motif in Pride and Prejudice, and are associated with major change. For those of you familiar with the story, try this exercise:

1. List the carriage trips that occur in the book
2. Between the carriage trips, list the major events that occur in each location.
3. String the ideas together in paragraph form. Whenever you get to a carriage trip, start a new paragraph. (You might have other new paragraphs besides these, but to highlight the motif and let it do its organizing job in the plot summary, make sure it always appears at the start of new paragraphs.)

This isn't a cookie cutter method and it won't work for all stories, not even for all stories with strong motifs. But perhaps it will work on one of yours. Give it a try and see how it goes.

Theresa

Theme in Query Letters

Okay, before we get into the tricky concept of theme in query letters, we have to start off with a definition of theme itself.

Theme is the central idea which controls a literary work. It is the underlying meaning, the aphorism around which the plot and characters coalesce.

Theme can be broad and abstract. Most would say, for example, that the theme of Othello is jealousy. Othello is jealous of Desdemona, Iago is jealous of them both, and so on. This jealousy drives them to wild actions and tragic ends. Each character embodies a slightly different aspect of jealousy, and the plot explores the consequences of jealous behavior.

So, should Shakespeare include in his query, "My theme is jealousy"?

No. Nor should you state your theme so baldly. I really don't need to see the following sentences in any query letter:

• Love conquers all.
• Love heals all wounds.
• Love is blind.
• True love lasts forever.

Because, let's face it, these are cliches. They might be great themes for novels, but the statements themselves are about as interesting as a coma.

What is interesting -- or what, at least, has the potential to be interesting -- is the way you explore the theme in your query. Just as the theme can be the unifying principle for your novel, so can it be the organizing principle for your query. (Or synopsis. Or pitch. Think about it after you've read this whole post.) So your goal is not to present the generic version of your theme in a coma-inducing statement, but to illustrate it using specific detail from your novel.

Let's say your theme is love heals all wounds. Your first job is to do a little brainstorming. Get out a sheet of paper. Write the key words from your theme in the center of the page, and draw bubbles around each word. Like so:














And now you begin to probe each part of that statement as it relates to your novel. Look not just for plot and character details which support your theme, but also for details which contradict it.

We'll make up an example to see how this goes. Your story is about Marissa and Jake, who hate each other on page one but fall in love in the end. Along the way, their nemesis Dr. Badboy kidnaps Marissa's elderly but frail grandmother. He forgets to also steal Grandma's medicine cabinet, meaning her health will be in ever greater peril as the plot develops. Jake is the superhero/FBI guy/rogue cop who investigates the case, overcomes Marissa's trust issues from a past cheating bastard boyfriend, and gets shot in Dr. Badboy's lair. Grandma's poodle is the only eyewitness to the crime and plays a key role in the investigation.

We've all seen plots something like this before, right? Marissa has a wounded heart, and she must learn to love again over the course of the plot, hence the theme, love heals all wounds.

But there's more to it than that. Your plot will contain other details supporting the theme -- concrete, specific details -- and we're going to jot them down on our paper. The easiest way to do this is to think of each keyword in the theme one at a time. Ask the journalist's questions of each keyword: who, what, where, why, when, how? For example:

• Love: Who feels love? Is it strong or weak? Does anyone feel hatred? On the first/last page, who feels love or hate?
• Heals: Heals how? Automatically, as aspirin heals a headache? Or behaviorally, as changes in activity can create change in other areas of life? There's other medication in the plot. Hmm. And the villain is named Doctor -- not Mister or His Grace the Duke of Evil.
• All: Oh, really? Are there any exceptions to ALL? Why ALL and not SOME or MOST?
  
• Wounds: Here's a concrete noun. Everything else has been abstract so far. So can we list actual physical wounds or conditions, as well as psychic trauma? Which are healed and which are unhealed?

As you ask these questions, jot down the answers in bubbles around the central theme, and draw lines to connect them to the relevant keywords. Like so:













As you test the way your novel supports your theme, you'll discover some interesting angles you might not have thought about before. For example, Dr. Badboy, the villain, dies of his wounds. Bot nobody loved him, right? So that supports your theme, and it can be expressed thematically in your plot summary:

No one grieves when the hateful Dr. Badboy dies of his chest wounds, and everyone rejoices when Grandma's insulin shot saves her life.

Okay, not a brilliant sentence, but you get the idea. We have very specific statements containing plot details which support your theme. How about,

As Grandma recovers in the ER, Jake and Marissa join hands, proclaim their mutual love, and find an empty hospital bed in the maternity ward to seal the deal.

(tee hee) Maybe not in those words, but do you see the theme lurking in that sentence, too? Compare these two sentences to,

In the end, Grandma is rescued and Dr. Badboy dies.

Here we lose the sense of wounds, healing, and love which floats just under the surface of the first two sentences. Also, you might want to rethink whether to include this:

Pinky Poodlepiffle, Grandma's beloved dog, is caught in the crossfire and dies in Dr. Badboy's lair.

Because it doesn't support your theme.

You can be bold about this. You can include the words love, heals, all, and wounds -- just not together in a single sentence with nothing else. You can also be more subtle, and use synonyms for these keywords. (You can also brainstorm these synonyms on your bubble map.)

Now that you've examined your theme within the context of this process, can you revise it to get more story specific? Maybe it's not love heals all wounds, but love overcomes what hate creates. If you can generate a more specific and less cliched version of your theme, you might be able to get away with stating it directly in your query. Otherwise, stick to the ideas outlined above and focus on creating a plot summary which supports the theme without stating it in cliched terms.

Theresa

Redlines Eleven: Parsing and Pitching

Someone asked in the comments recently if we would talk about pitching. What a coincidence! The next in the redlines series is about one method to parse and pitch a manuscript. Two caveats: This method will give you a long pitch, and it's geared toward romance. We'll talk about ways to build loglines and other pitching methods later. (Worth noting -- this method might be a good way to build a short synopsis.)

------

With RWA National fast approaching, I thought this would be a good time to share one method for parsing and pitching a manuscript. As an added bonus, this method can be used to come up with a short synopsis or, with modification, a query letter. We’ll use the novel “Jane Eyre” as our example throughout.

Imagine your pitch shaped like the opposite of an hourglass. Your pitch will start with a focused summary statement, then widen out to provide an overview of the story. Finally, you narrow it and close with summary information, such as the word count and target market. Sound easy? Get out a pen and paper, and you’ll see how easy it is. You might want to read through the instructions before trying the method yourself.

Start by making a list. This is just a list, and it doesn’t have to be sparkling or detailed.

Number 1: The narrow summary.
Write down a one sentence summary of your premise or hook, plus your subgenre. Describe characters by trait (orphaned governess) rather than by name (Jane) or function (heroine). This summary doesn’t have to be a good sentence. For now, anything will do.

Example:
(1) Jane Eyre is a gothic romance about an orphaned governess who teaches her dark-tempered employer that love heals all wounds.

“Gothic romance” is the subgenre. “Love heals all wounds” is the theme. The hook (employer/employee forbidden relationship) is implied in the rest of the sentence.

Numbers 2-4: The non-sagging middle.
Write three sentences describing the most important plot developments in the middle of your manuscript. I can almost hear the collective squawk. “What? Only three?” But if you focus on the middle of the story, leaving out the black moment and final resolution, it will be easier. Focus on events, even if you state those events without describing the actual scenes.

Example:
(2) While teaching Rochester’s young ward, Jane discovers that there is a madwoman living in the attic of their isolated country estate.
(3) Rochester proposes marriage, but their wedding is interrupted with the news that Rochester is already married to the madwoman.
(4) Jane flees to protect her virtue and nearly dies on the road, but is saved by strangers who help her see that her love for Rochester can survive all obstacles, even attempted bigamy.

Number 5: The black moment.
Write down the plot event that indicates that things are at their lowest point. In romance, this is the final reversal before the happy ending.

Example:
(5) Jane returns to Rochester’s home, and finds it burned to the ground and abandoned.

Number 6: The resolution.
Write down the plot event that resolves the conflict and leads to the happy ending.

Example:
(6) Jane finds Rochester blinded and scarred from the fire, and learns that his madwoman wife died as a result of her arson, leaving him free to marry Jane.

Number 7: The internal conflict.
This should be a quick statement of the emotional forces that keep the hero and heroine apart. Sometimes, this will need to be in two parts: one part for the heroine, and one for the hero.

Example:
(7) Rochester feels he is doomed by the youthful mistake of his tragic marriage, and Jane is haunted by a subtle sense that she can never belong to any person or any place.

Number 8: The case for romance.
Write down why they belong together, the reason that the reader will believe that these characters are each other’s soulmates. Again, this might be a two-part statement. It might even echo some of what you have written in number seven or in other parts of the list.

Example:
(8) Rochester finds forgiveness and tolerance in Jane, and Jane finds belonging and freedom in Rochester.

Number 9: The technical stuff.
Write down your word count, target market, and any other technical information you feel the editor should know. For example, if you have written a medical romance and you are a nurse or doctor, write that down. Or, if your book is similar in tone or scope to another book that the editor or agent worked on, write that down.

Example:
(9) “Jane Eyre” is a 150,000 word gothic romance which would appeal to Victoria Holt fans. As a former bigamist, I am personally familiar with the destruction that these illegal relationships can create. (Kidding! Of course!)

That’s the entire list. Read through it from top to bottom. Steps one through six should read like a skeletal outline of your plot. The next step, which can be tricky, is to decide where on that list to include the internal conflict and the case for romance. The three most likely placements each have relative advantages and disadvantages.

First, if you leave the internal conflict and the case for romance at the end, you are closing with a powerful description of the core romance. But leaving these items for the end might make the plot seem dislocated from the romance, depending on your plot.

Or, second, you might put the internal conflict and the case for romance right after your narrow opening sentence, before the three middle plot points. Doing it this way may create a transition between the opening statement and the meat of the plot. However, it might also sound like you are wrapping up and then following with expanded information, instead of presenting a smooth flow.

Or, third common option, put the internal conflict statement right after the narrow summary at step one, and put the case for romance at the end, either before or after the resolution. Doing it this way will highlight the characters’ journeys, but separating these two statements might undermine the coherency of your pitch.

Regardless of where you choose to weave in the internal conflict and the case for romance, once you have them organized, write the word “because” as often as possible. This magical little word is what you are going to use to flesh out your pitch and make your manuscript sound cohesive and tight.

You may have already included some causative elements in your list. For example, we have the statement, “Jane flees to protect her virtue.” We could just as easily have written, “Jane flees BECAUSE she wants to protect her virtue.” The meaning is there, even if the word is not.

Study your list and weave in short statements of causation. But keep in mind your time limit. If you have eight minutes, your pitch should be no longer than four or five -- you want to save time for questions, introductions, and the all-important request details. You might want to leave time to add in a one-sentence summary of your next project. But you want to appear as though you are getting behind one of your ideas, and just mentioning the second to show your commitment.

You may find that you still have extra time. If so, consider including additional details that enhance those already on your list. In our example, we might want to mention that the madwoman wife tries to burn Rochester alive in his bed, and Jane saves his life. This foreshadows the black moment (when Rochester’s house burns down), and the ultimate resolution (where we see that Jane has also saved Rochester’s heart). These details tie in more neatly than, say, Jane’s experiences at the Lowood School.

Now all you have to do is shine it up. Use words and phrases that resonate with the theme, or reinforce the case for romance. Practice saying your pitch to make sure there aren’t any tongue-twisters or other awkward phrasings. Practice with a timer until you are sure that you can pitch with confidence.

One final suggestion: reduce each step of the pitch to a single word. List the words in order on a cheat sheet to lay on the table before you during your pitch. For example, the word “widower” neatly sums up step six in our “Jane Eyre” pitch. Creating this key word cheat sheet will allow you to stay focused and avoid reading, though many writers do read their pitches. Good luck, everyone!

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Redlines One (on paragraph logic faults) can be found here.
Redlines Two (on dialogue sequencing) can be found here.
Redlines Three (on using frames within scenes) can be found here.
Redlines Four (on avoiding the need for "sequel") can be found here.
Redlines Five (on description) can be found here.
Redlines Six (on passive voice) can be found here.
Redlines Seven (on strong verbs) can be found here.
Redlines Eight (on tension statements) can be found here.
We'll skip Redlines Nine because its topic has already been covered in other posts.
Redlines Ten (on backstory and narrative compression) can be found here.

Theresa