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...)

( continues...) swing around and we’re going back, ok? We’re the only humans around here.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

”Hey, just because I find your sense of humor overactive doesn’t mean you’re not *human*, Markowitz. ”

“I heard about your Bin Laden quip by the way...you know you have the whole package.”

“ You mean the ones from Mount Street? Because those are at Evidence Control, like they’re supposed to be.” She knew what he meant, but it was embarrassing. Partners needed to focus on the Job. Losing focus had gotten them into their separate stupid messes. Well, that and Photoshop, nubiangoats.com, and her big mouth, and she guessed, in an indirect way, Markowitz could blame the fact that it was dangerous to get between Captain Chaney and a camera, but they both needed to get better at resisting temptation.

“Can you really not have a conversation with me that doesn’t go back to white powder? Not that. You. Beautiful, brilliant, funny, and politically astute. I hate to work such a Hefner line but what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

She blushed, grateful that Markowitz couldn’t see from his potato sack. “Keeping Balmer safe from the Energizer Rabbit. Oh, and the dental plan.”

“Well, you’re in it for the right reasons.”

“Oral hygiene is my life,” As soon as she said it, she wished she’d said “dental”. Less potential for misunderstandings with a word like “dental”. All of a sudden, she wished she’d agreed to get in the bag
. “So, does that rap ever work?”

“I’m shocked that you find the sentiments of my heart rehearsed , Detective. “

“ Would it take the sting out if I bought drinks tonight?”she asked. She had to admit to herself that Markowitz had gone from being her load to lightening it, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit it to him.

“ I only laugh to keep from crying.”

“You must be incredibly depressed.”she said, and Markowitz thought he could hear a twinkle in her eye.

“You have no idea.” he said, “ and maybe this will answer your question...it’s Friday night, prime dinner-having and barhopping hours for lesser mortals, and I’m stuffed in a bag like laundry. You’re a detective. Get a clue.”

“I’m sorry I said that. You’re a good cop. Dangerous with a computer, but good.”

“You too. Even if this operation made as much sense as busting Yogi and Boo Boo behind some picnic baskets. But I’m still wounded enough to want Scotch.”

“Oh, please, I didn’t punch you. Imported beer?”

“Deal. But you, like all women, drive a hard bargain.”

More, erika. I want more.

I'm particularly fond of "And I’m a woman who’s been with this department ten years...you think you’re the first dead weight I’ve carried?" and the dental plan.

Erika writes goooood.