I have an existing 6-page synopsis for Lucy. Today I sat down and drafted a synopsis for Anna, not thinking about the length, just getting the important plot points and character motivations in. It's 7 pages.

The agent I'm submitting to likes 3-pagers. I can't cut these things in half without turning them into nonsense. I'm going to have to figure out a way to distill the essence and rewrite.

Thing is, I can do a decent single-page or even single-paragraph synopsis, because all you're really going for there is a basic story hook and sense of the type of conflict and what changes the characters have to make to overcome it. But how I'm supposed to get any coherent plot summary, representation of my voice and style, and sense of the characters into three pages, I have no idea.

I am going to sleep, so here is my stupid idea:

Clear your mind, close your eyes, and write down the first three plot points that come to mind. Focus on those. Ta da!

Yeah, I suck.

I'm actually planning something close to that. I'm going to write down a bullet point plot list, just the barest essentials, and try to keep it to no more than ten points per book. And then I'll build the rest around it, focusing more on character and what drives the romance than getting every important happening in.

And I'm going to do it tomorrow, because it's 11:30, and if I tried it now, it wouldn't be my best work.

Dani, I had never heard about lisnews, and I don't think Greg knew about it either, so I sent him the link. I'm glad you posted it.

Susan, I am really enjoying the bits we're getting of Anna's story. It was pretty frustrating not to be able to nurse any of my babies. There are such huge expectations out there for new moms to live up to. I hope your essay is accepted.

Deb, to state the obvious, those are painful.

I've been enjoying all the drabbles. There are some amazing minds in this thread.

ita, yours always make me want to know more. I like that.

I like doing synopses. The thing is, if someone wants a three-pager, to my mind, they aren't asking for a synopsis; they're asking for a blow-by-blow plot summary.

Which is way different. My synopses are all 1-pagers, designed to be used as explanatory blurbs, and to hook the agent's eye. The longer ones - not synopses. If it's got the "they go the library, where Penny finds an ancient manuscript. On the page dated three days before the murder, they discover...", it aint a synopsis, it's a plot breakdown.

See, to me a 1-pager is just what you describe, a nice hook, while a 6-pager is a plot summary. Three is much too long for one, way too short for the other.

Yeppers.

Thing is, did this agent ask for a three-page synopsis? Because to me, that means she's a little unclear about what she wants.

Yep, that's what she asked for. She specifically said she likes short synopses.

I'm sending her synopses for both books, since she was really interested in Anna even though it's not anywhere near complete yet. And for that one, I think I can cut two pages pretty easily--there's spots where the plot gets kinda complicated, and I ran on for a page apiece talking about the events of two specific chapters. It'll be painful, but I can streamline those bits a lot. I thought of a way in the shower just now. I really need some special waterproof notebook or computer in there, since steam seems so inspiring to my brain.

Lucy, I'm not so sure. On the surface, it's by far the less plotty of the two, so it should be easier to summarize. But there's a lot of setup and interrelationships between the characters that need to be told in some detail. I think I might just start from scratch on that one.

And I can offer no help on that one, since I've never written a plot summary in my life. Best of luck, Susan.

Here's why I haven't been around today, but it's finished now, 1100 words exactly.I think y'all would be able to spot it for mine.

The red, yellow, and orange leaves contrasted sharply with the black water. Distant thunder promised a winter storm. It was a cold autumn in Baltimore this year. She shivered and walked faster, ignoring the muffled diatribe from the burlap sack in her arms. “Do you mind? There are parts of my body I’m very attached to in this bag!” it said, insufficiently muffled by burlap.

“ I’ve got problems, too, namely looking very suspicious dragging a six-foot sack around. And what’re you complaining about? You wanted to be undercover. You got your wish, partner.” Deb hated it when Jack got this way, running his jaws. She often thought the reason he’d hate to die was because he’d have to shut up long enough to do it.

“I know. But I wanted something with some juice, some cachet...a dealer, a Mafioso, something like that.”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you Photoshopped the captain with the goat...and anyways, nobody’s gonna believe you’re a mobster.”

“Meyer Lansky was a mobster. And who would guess the captain to be so bereft of humor?”

Deb made a face. For a smart man, he could be so*stupid*. “You’re a detective. Get a clue.”

She shushed him as she heard the crunch of leaves underfoot. Such was her glamorous new career in narcotics. Risking pneumonia to check out some tip about redneck dealers in campgrounds in Balmer County. Strictly fantasy. She’d offered to take a quick look for Osama while she was out there, and for that moment of squadroom drollery, she was stuck with the biggest wiseacre in department history for a partner.
For the brass upstairs, Operation “It’s Everyone’s Problem” was no joke, but they weren’t the ones getting the goosebumps. The source of the mysterious footsteps turned out to be none other than a rabbit, a savvy Baltimore rabbit, but more comfortable with carrots than black-tar heroin.
“Hey, Thumper,” she imagined herself asking it, “seen anything illegal lately?” It hardly made this thing more ridiculous.

The weather had turned lousy overnight, but even if it hadn’t, how many times could she possibly pretend to be taking out the garbage for her campsite, especially with the “garbage” likely talking a mile a minute? It would only fool...the sort of people dumb enough to stand under trees in a lightning storm. This was a punishment detail, no question.
“ It was funny, though, the goat photo, wasn’t it?” Jack said, after a few minutes.

“I thought maybe you passed out in there from lack of air.”

“Thought or hoped?”

“Dunno,” she said, panting with the effort of the sack, “give me a minute.”

“I should stop responding to all this flattery. We work together...it could get awkward Speaking of, we could switch places...I know I’m a lot of dead weight.”

“Nuh uh. I took the call. I’ll do it, even if I have to on my knees. And I’m a woman who’s been with this department ten years...you think you’re the first dead weight I’ve carried?”

“ Ok, you don’t have to get all Allred on me. Can we talk about you on your knees again?”

“No, but your goat picture was funny. The height of seventh- grade wit. “

“ I was aiming for ‘slightly brain-damaged sixteen year old’

“Keep trying,” she said, but her tone was softer, “You’ll get there...and I know you only offered to switch so you could tell the guys at the squad you bagged me.”

“Why don’t you like me?”Markowitz asked suddenly.

“ Who says I don’t?” She did worry about being tarred with Markowitz’ brush. Guys could afford to be eccentric characters...a woman cop who marched to her own drummer too far might find herself marching into employment at Wal-mart. Give her a million drug corners over that. Why was he going into this now, while she was getting her feet all muddy and...why didn’t those nature shows mention how slimy damp leaves get?
”One more (continued...)