Synopsizing Your Way to Revision Success
By Vaughn Roycroft | October 17, 2016 |
Do you ever feel paralyzed at the outset of revising a manuscript? I usually do. For me, it’s due to the sense of scope. I mean, there’s so much to be done, right? It can feel overwhelming.
Take my new project. The manuscript will be the middle edition in a planned trilogy, based on a lengthy older story. It’s not a separate story yet. In its current form, the opening is just another chapter that happened to come after the events that formed the end of part one. To add to that difficulty, I’ve spent the last two and a half years revising what’s now become part one. Quite a few things have changed. The overarching goals haven’t changed for the major characters, but their motivations have either altered or deepened. Not to mention about a hundred story details that have changed (many are inconsequential, but consistency must be maintained).
For me, incorporating critique is always a part of the overwhelm of the revision process, too. We’ve all heard it, right? Take in what resonates and dismiss the rest. But what if it resonates that you indeed have a problem (or four, or six), but you aren’t quite sure how to solve it (them)? Or if solving one will likely create others? Muddling the puddle even further for this project, I have received critique on the original complete story (before dividing it), as well as additional (new eyes) critique on the part one portion.
Reconciling it all can be tricky. I always need a “pondering period,” but inaction is obviously no solution. At some point pondering alone can become unproductive, or worse, lead to procrastination. And for me, simply diving in to another comma-shuffling editing session can be a diversion from meaningful revision.
So what’s an overwhelmed, pondered-out and paralyzed writer to do?
Stumbling Into the S-Word
Actually, this time I stumbled upon proactivity. Just to make my way from pondering to actual words on paper, I went through the middle section of the lengthy original manuscript and listed each chapter, briefly noting what happens in each. All I thought to gain was a simple status report. It certainly helped me to grasp the sweep of book two. Plus, I saw where I wanted to end up, which is huge. I could see the events that might be shaped into a resolution. Of course it would take work, particularly finding my way to a satisfying story arc for my primary protagonists as they moved into the final edition of the trilogy. But I’d taken a step.
And, as proactive steps often do, this one led to another.
Once I had my status report, I thought how nice it might be to have a writer friend to talk to about what was still a daunting undertaking. Because, as we all know, talking to our fellow writers leads at the best to an infusion of insight and excitement, and at the very least to commiseration. But how would I ever even get anyone up to speed for such a conversation?
That’s when it hit me. What I needed was a brief description of where the story stood, including the resolution I intended to strengthen. And I thought, “Oh crap. What I need is a synopsis. Duh.” But I hate writing synopses! Talk about accidentally stepping in the s-word.
Writing Begets Writing, Right?
“Don’t prepare. Begin. Good things happen once we start. Our blood heats up. Courage begets more courage. The gods, witnessing our boldness, look on in approval.” ~Steven Pressfield
I’ve done some straightforward plotting before revision, even in the form of a scene chart (something I still intend to do for this project). But I’d never attempted to synopsize a manuscript before revising it. I somehow overcame my aversion long enough to begin. The first thing I noticed was that I was actually writing. Er, that may sound obvious. What I mean is, the words came pouring out, in a way they hadn’t in weeks. Much more so than they would be if I’d plunged in cold, or if I’d started a scene chart. In just a few days, I had fifteen pages. No, they weren’t pages that would be used in my next manuscript, but yes, they are most definitely pages that will go toward making the story easier to write.
Setting aside the potential story benefits, it just felt great to be writing. And whether or not you agree with Pressfield’s divine approval of boldness, I think we can agree that writing begets writing, right?
Tapping and Channeling the Hidden Flow
The next surprise came in the form of story revelations. Dozens of ‘em. For example, I noticed the long chunks of the manuscript that were missing something: my protagonists! (Something that definitely needs attention.) But I noticed more than the characters’ presence (or absences). I noticed how characters might be feeling, about each other and about the unfolding events of the plot. These are insights I hadn’t made while drafting, and that I doubt I’d have made while charting my scenes as I normally do.
In some cases the revelations led to issues and questions. But it feels much better to be examining issues and asking questions on the front end. For me, telling the story in a succinct linear fashion forced my brain to make connections. And some of those connections required leaps—leaps that might well have resulted in complete stalls if they’d appeared in the course of drafting.
Something about the process of telling myself the story in linear, sentence form seemed to tap into my creativity unlike any other form of plotting I’ve tried. I expected synopsizing to feel like cleaning muck and debris from the storytelling gutters. Instead it felt like channeling an existing and natural flow of creativity into a storytelling collection barrel. Better still, it’s a resource I can store and utilize during those inevitable droughts to come.
Maybe most importantly, the context of the synopsis kept the feeling of overwhelm at bay. I was just working through the story as I currently know it. I wasn’t worried about how on earth I would get it right on the page.
Synopsis Tips to Get Your Synapses Snapping
I’m not claiming that this is a surefire way to start every project. I firmly believe in the value of just about any sort of pre-writing. I also believe not only that every writer finds their own process, but that their process is likely to change. But if you ever find yourself overwhelmed and in need of proactivity, it’s certainly worth a shot. So in the hopes of helping you set aside your S-word dread, I humbly offer a few tips.
1- Format? What Format? This, to me, is the most important thing: There are no rules, no expectations. It’s just for you! So all of those rules and formatting issues that help lead to S-word dread—stuff like: using present tense, capitalizing character names, not including subplots, etcetera—throw ‘em out. In fact, it doesn’t matter if you change your approach midcourse. Write it however it suits you on that day. The idea is to tap into a story flow. Heck, write it in haiku if that’ll get you into the flow.
2- Stick to the Story: Sounds simple, right? If starting with backstory will get you going, do it. Forget about description of any sort, and concern yourself with setting only as it pertains to story. As questions arise, put them in brackets or another color right then, and move on. If a tangent arises that will require research, note it and move on. Just keep the story flowing. As with all synopses, brevity is key. Think map-making rather than landscape-painting.
3- Write it to Yourself: Get in touch with what makes you excited, what made you want to tell it in the first place. Treat it as shorthand emotional dictation for future reference. Don’t worry yet about how you’re going to convey those emotions to readers. Just remind yourself what it is about this story that moves and compels you.
4- Write it to a Friend: Do you know about Stephen King’s concept of an Ideal Reader? Do you have one? Write your synopsis to them. Or do you have a particularly insightful writing friend? Write it to them. Imagine where they might need explanation and offer it. Write it to them conversationally, as you might if you were telling them about a favorite book or movie. Don’t get bogged down or side-tracked—they’ll be bored. Stick to the point… For them. Even if you have no intention of sharing your synopsis, telling it as if to a friend will put you into storyteller mode and keep you there.
Getting My S-Word In Gear
I think the most important thing about my synopsizing discovery was that it forced me to get out of my head and onto the page. For me writing has always been about finding my way to momentum then maintaining it. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been too close for too long to really see this project. Getting bogged in detail can stall my progress. Free-flow synopsizing not only jump-started my momentum, but offered new perspectives that have kept me rolling.
Your turn! Ever stepped in the S-word? Have you ever synopsized just for your own use? How do you handle “revision overwhelm” and find your momentum?
Vaughn Roycroft’s (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days striving to finish his epic fantasy series.
Thanks for this post, Vaughn. I am where you are in the process. When I sent my manuscript to my editor, I thought it was polished and ready to go, with a few minor tweaks. The writing was polished, but the story was a disaster. My editor confirmed what my critique group had been telling me. My main character came across as cold and unsympathetic. There was a major story element that was problematical. I came to the tough conclusion that the entire second half of the story (save for one chapter) had to go. And that thought paralyzed me for months. I just couldn’t figure out how to recast the story. For me it was reading craft books by Larry Brooks and Lisa Cron that unblocked me. I, too, had a major character disappear (not the protagaonist) for ten years. What was I thinking? I’m now to the point where I’ve been writing at an insane pace and I am nearing the end. I am also planning to write a synopsis, something that fills me with dread. This was so helpful, and timely. I look forward to seeing you again in Salem.
Anything that gets those storytelling gutters unclogged, and gets the story flowing, is huge. I love when I reach epiphanies while reading craft books, and Lisa has done the same for me in the past. Thanks, Chris! Looking forward to seeing you soon, as well.
The S-word! I love it for the reasons you mentioned. Getting back into the story, going from head onto the page. The narrative summary is great. It’s telling myself the story. Funny how this is *exactly* what I needed to read because I’ve been pondering and procrastinating the sorely needed revision on my historical. I started with Story Genius and used misbeliefs and backstory to dig deeper into my characters. Got busy with a WFH project that I’m wrapping up now. It’s time to make scene cards (ala Lisa Cron) to shore up the sagging middle, make sure every bit does double and triple duty. And get this puppy submission-ready by the end of this year. Thanks for this timely essay, Vaughn
That’s great, Vijaya! Don’t you love it how often a WU essay is *exactly* what we need to hear on any given day? I honored to have provided one of these occasions, since I so often benefit from them.
Yes, taking characters deeper is so important, but I think my synopsis offered me context for that deepening. I think that’s one of the best sorts of insight this practice can provide. Thanks, and good luck with it!
Love this! Writing a brief synopsis of each chapter was the thing that enabled me to actually finish writing my first novel. It’s such a good exercise to force yourself to distill the essence of your story into a few sentences or paragraphs.
A great tip to supplement this exercise – doing it chapter by chapter as you proceed. “Distilling the essence” is the perfect phrase. Thanks, Kathleen!
Vaughn-
How I love posts on the nitty-gritty of process. The nuts and bolts and how to fasten together the crazy, semi-sentient, hissing, smoking Steampunk machine that we call a novel.
James Scott Bell is going to love this post.
In planning my next project, I’m using a table. In the left hand column are scenes or events or moments I need to show, the plot.
The next column to the right is for the inner journey. The next is for reader objections; e.g., why can’t the hero just be happy? Those must be answered. Then comes beliefs and expectations, both hero’s and readers’, which will shift. After that is a column for questions, big questions, that I want each scene to raise–and the novel ultimately to answer. There’s another column to note the stylistic risk I’ll take or the key metaphor I want to include in each part.
Novels work on a number of levels. Synopsis is good, I find, but my table is helping me make sure that every scene engages all the levels.
You sometimes hear editors talk about the “rich read”. For us it’s not so much a matter of muse as it is of organization. That’s true in revision but also in first draft.
Wow, Benjamin, I love the columns on your chart! I admit, the process I describe here has very little to do with organization. But for me, in this instance, what I needed was to overcome inertia and parlay my start into solid momentum.
I still plan on charting this mess, and you’ve given me some great tips to enhance that process. But the beauty of what I see in the mess is the threads of a potentially rich read. Lots of weaving to be done, but there’s a foundation to be built on, which excites me.
I really appreciate the insight of your experience. Thanks for bringing it to the conversation here at WU so regularly.
I’ll tell you what I love: Scrivener. You can generate a synopsis first, if you plot; or after, if you pants. For the latter, jot a few lines summarizing the scene you just wrote. At any stage of the process you can generate a doc of just those lines. Voila! Synopsis.
There was an English novelist, John Braine, who advocated writing a first draft, THEN a 2k word summary, THEN edit the summary until you make it fresh and compelling, THEN do a whole new second draft.
File under: “Whatever Works 4 U.”
I really need to learn Scrivener already.
Vaughn, great post! I love that you’re finding such power in this approach. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks, T! You’re always inspiring me in one way or another.
I’m with Therese – must stop resisting the inevitable switch to Scrivener. It sounds like I stumbled into Braine’s methodology, though I wonder about putting myself through it exactly like this on future projects. Then again, it may have taken time, but I feel like I’m well along the path to a richer read.
Thanks, James! Love the forward in Author In Progress, btw. Here’s to finding our way 2 Us, with the help of great craft mentors like you.
I keep saying I’m going to try Scrivener again. I really really need to give it another shake.
Amen to Scrivener! (And I’m creating an Excel sheet right now with Benjamin’s columns, so helpful!)
Vaughn — thank you for this inspiring read. I’m balancing two projects right now, one of them a rework of a former novel so I loved reading this! Especially: “…pondering alone can become unproductive, or worse, lead to procrastination. And for me, simply diving in to another comma-shuffling editing session…” Oh man, I’ve been there!
Aren’t Benjamin’s columns great?
It’s nice to know I’m not alone on overthinking and/or getting sucked into comma-shuffling. Thanks, John! And good luck with the new project!
Hi Vaughn–
I neglected the obvious “duh” step of writing a synopsis for my latest until my hired-gun editor asked me to do it. The reason it’s such a good idea is simple: if it’s a struggle to produce a synopsis of your novel, and the process reveals points of weakness, slowness, etc., that’s a great if painful help to the writer.
I like your phrase “muddling the puddle.” It takes a bigger brain than I have to manage numerous sources of reaction and critique. That’s why I don’t belong to a critique group, or rely much on craft books–they muddle my puddle instead of cleaning it up. As I’ve said here before–probably too many times–other than a solid editor, the only two things that help me with the process of revision is mastering and internalizing lessons learned from novels I admire, and the passage of time. Often (not always), time will create the distance and objectivity that permit me to see what I was blind to earlier.
Hey Barry – I’m nodding along to your first paragraph, and admitting to myself how much of my dread over the S-word is rooted in a sort of fearful laziness. You’re right – if there are problems that need to be worked through, why bother drafting your way to a rough patch, or worse, an actual dead end?
I agree with you about the confusion that can come with the typical contradiction of multiple sources of critique. I think my “pondering periods” might better be described as “time to digest.” I’ve come to rely on being able to absorb what’s nutritious, and pass the rest. Sometimes the process is unpleasant, but it usually ends up being curative. I like your cleaner approach, as long as you can find an objective source that can be trusted. And I do believe that the trusting part is something we naturally sort out, as well.
Here’s to objectivity! Thanks for enhancing the conversation.
I LOVE this, Vaughn. I stopped at the beginning of my middle build in this latest revision and did this process, just writing out the narrative as if I was telling the story to myself. It helped me see important connections and motivations (the ones that were there and the ones that were missing) and to find the narrative drive of my tale. I am also writing a series, and this process even helped me to think globally about all four books. Plus, I now have a leg up on writing that synopsis. I’m actually excited about it…go figure!! This said it all for me…”For me, telling the story in a succinct linear fashion forced my brain to make connections.” Yes, yes, yes. Thank you for laying this out in such an accessible way! This one goes in my WU binder!
Hi Susan – I think I’ve mentioned how much I’m looking forward to reading your work, but the feeling only grows, so it’s worth mentioning again.
You’re right, this exercise really helped me to put things into a “global” perspective, series-wise. This is where I think it helped me to write it to my writer friend (who’s actually read the first edition). I had to convey where characters were in the context of what’s already happened. It forced me to more closely scrutinize this segment of the story in relation to part one. Very revealing.
Thanks for your kind words – I’m honored to be in your binder!
Hi Vaughn! I’m such a pantster that I’ve never really done an outline or a synopsis. But I’m starting a new project, and I’m vowing to change my ways. And I’m starting with your suggestion first. I’ll let you know how it goes when I see you in Salem!
Set yourself free in the process, Liz. I can’t wait to see you in Salem, and hear what flowed out, story-wise. Good luck with the new project!
Vaughn, you are hovering behind me at the desk today (don’t say anything about my dandruff), because I’ve been haphazardly working on writing the theme and the concept of the book I collaborated on for the past year and a half or so. Yeah, I wrote the theme and the concept AFTER the book was finished; for fun, I also like to remove the undercoat of paint on my car after I get a new paint job.
But as bassackwards as parsing the theme/concept after the work sounds, I was really using it as a tool, an editing measure to see if we’d carried the theme and concept through the work. That actually helped a good deal in making some major edits, a lot like what you’re suggesting with the free-form synopsis. That also helped with writing a query for the book and provides the basis for a synopsis later.
Of course, since you’re hovering around here, why don’t you just write my synopsis for me, while you’re hot? Thanks for the good stuff, T.
Damn, you caught me hovering? You were looking a little tense for the free-flow you’re looking to tap into. I was going to massage your shoulders, but I didn’t want to scare you, and take you out of the zone.
Bassackward or not, I love the idea of using as a post-game analysis tool. Theme can be a slippery eel, and all the more elusive while we’re swimming in the story pond. Makes it easier to see the slithery devil once we’re out of the pond, and looking back into un-muddled water.
I’m glad this feels so timely. Always a bit spooky how WU posts seem to be there when we need them. Not as spooky as a dude appearing behind you to massage your shoulders while you work, but still… Thanks, Tom! Wishing you the best with the project!
V, there is so much truth in this post.
I write a synopsis to myself several times during story development. I also write backstories that will never appear in the pages of the final draft, because they give me a place to start and a point to reference along the way. And, I so agree with you that as writers our methods change as we develop. And, those methods are unique to every writer, and sometime unique to each story we create.
For instance, I’ve recently learned that for me, I must sometimes go back and delve even deeper into my backstory in order to move forward.
My new WIP… Ha! New as in working on for three years…
It’s been exhilarating, scary and beautiful, and I know it’s my best work to date. But it’s also been frustrating in the extreme. I’ve completed the story. Twice. Only to start over again. Something’s been incomplete about the drafts, and I just couldn’t figure out what.
The other day I started delving through my backstory for the answers I haven’t been able to find. I hit a brick wall… again. I was forced to put it to rest, and take off for the day job. I went to the day job stressed, and then I absorbed all the stress in the day job, and left work extremely unsettled and fatigued.
On the drive home, when all I could think of was pouring a glass of wine and propping up my feet, in a space when I wasn’t even thinking about my story consciously, the crucial missing backstory detail just popped into my head without any effort on my part… And I actually found myself talking out loud in the solitude of my car.
“Of course, it’s so obvious. Why didn’t I see what is right under my nose or inside of my skull… or what the character knew… that I didn’t until now?”
Sometimes the best laid plans are just ladders to the mysterious elements in the universe that make us writers in the first place. I know this may sound a bit freaking woo-woo, but I truly believe this now. Because in the end, we come back to the beginning, to the truth that was there all along within us, just waiting for us to stop, and open up and listen to it. It’s the most powerful energy in existence.
The aftereffect of my breakthrough made me feel like lighting up a cigarette. And I don’t even smoke.
I know how long you’ve been working on your trilogy. I’ve been privileged to witness some of the elements. And I know you are writing a very special story that only you can tell. That you were meant to tell, and I am truly excited for your final result.
Blessed be your journey.
Bernadette, I love your story of the mysterious methods of creativity and insight. Whether woo-woo or wine to come, thank goodness for their counsel.
“…in the end, we come back to the beginning, to the truth that was there all along within us, just waiting for us to stop, and open up and listen to it. It’s the most powerful energy in existence.”
Amen! Preach it, B. There’s something so magical about it. And every time we think we have even a hunch about the patterns of the magic, it’ll throw us for a loop again. Proving that mystery is inherent to magic. Which requires a bit of faith, along with the hard work, occasional frustration, and perseverance. I have faith in you and in your current project, as I know you have faith in mine (and I’m forever grateful for it). And I think that shared belief helps to bolster us to another level. It’s part of why writers need other writers.
Here’s to momentum, bolstered by friendship and faith, and supplemented by a bit of mystery and the magic. Cheers, B!
I love this post, Vaughn! As it happens, I’ve been doing a similar step mid-first draft (the eternal first draft, sigh). I’ve got two storylines, and as I was drafting the present-day one I felt like I really needed to see where it was going in relation to the storyline in the past, sooner rather than later. So I printed them both out and did something very like your status report.
Right away I could see scenes in both storylines that weren’t really helping, others that need to be *more* (more intense, more important, more cause-and-effect, that sort of thing). And I could see that the present-day storyline should be condensed considerably–a shorter window of time and action. And that’s when I started writing up a kind of synopsis/summary of the present-day story in its new configuration, very much telling the story to myself as you describe it.
I don’t think of myself as an outliner, but I do need that sense of a map. And while it’s still too early to figure out the exact way the scenes of each storyline will weave into the whole–which is what I thought I was going to determine–now I can more easily see the connection points between them. At the very least, I think they won’t end up on different planets…
It’s helpful to see how the synopsis is working for you at the next stage of the process! I’ll definitely keep it in mind when I reach the weaving stage.
Hi Alisha! Man, I can really see the benefit of synopsizing for two entwined storylines. I can see why you would do it midway, too. And yes, I really needed some semblance of a map for my project, too. Seems like a definite plus, not just for finding the beats for both storylines, but finding the rhythm between them.
Sounds like a wonderful project, not to mention a challenge. But we always shine the brighter for being challenged, don’t we? Looking forward to keeping tabs as you progress, Alisha! Thanks for a great addition to the conversation today.
Thanks, Vaughn! I do appreciate the encouragement, that’s for certain. There are definitely days when I think “why am I trying to wrangle two stories when one would be plenty?” But this particular story has always had two parts, and whenever I contemplate whacking one out I feel like I’d only be looking at half the piece, both in terms of theme and emotional impact. So back to the trenches I go. ;-) As always, we learn by doing!
Vaughn,
Thank you! This was so timely for me. I am working on my second draft of a story with considerable changes (well, massive changes) since the first draft. I have been using a synopsis to do it.
Your thoughts about making it a longer synopsis were a good reminder to me. I keep making it clipped but, as you said, if it is just for me I can do whatever I want with it.
I find the synopsis approach for revision is showing me the weaknesses as well and providing a lot of job security.
Yes, jump on the Scrivener wagon. I love it. A great tool.
Boy, Shirley, we sound like two writerly peas in a pod. Massive changes sounds familiar (and can feel daunting, I know). This happens to me all of the time – that I realize I’ve been self-editing, even for stuff that’s not for anyone’s eyes but my own. I’m glad I was able to offer some encouragement for free-flow. I’m guessing you’ll learn something new.
Thanks for weighing in, and for the nudge on Scrivener. Good luck!
Great article! I’ve found the same sort of inspiration while writing the one thing that I hate writing the most–the book description. It forces me to get to the very heart of my book’s theme and my character’s main goals.
Thanks for this!
I hate to admit it, but the things we dread so often force us to face what we must to make a project successful, don’t they, Meredith? Sort of like eating our writerly veggies (to put it mildly). Thanks for chiming in!
Thanks, Vaughn! I’ve been having trouble knowing where to start my debut novel. I have been thinking about it, written some, deleted it, started over, and totally revamped my entire plot, and setting, but I am left with writer’s block with starting it. I know that I needn’t write in linear fashion, but I overthink it and just don’t seem to get started. I am not really sure where I stand with whether or not writer’s block exists. I can write exercises or short stories, my problem seems to only be the novel. It is my first, so sometimes I do feel overwhelmed. This helps a bit. I’m going to try to just tell myself the story as you suggest.
That’s great, Rebecca! Just for you, no rules, just let it flow. Fingers crossed for you! Keep us posted, won’t you?
Great post, Vaughn! I haven’t used this tactic before with revision, but I do use it as a mostly-pantser once I’ve gotten to the point (usually about halfway through a MS) where I can see the ending. Then, instead of a traditional outline, I start making new chapters and filling them in with a description of what I will write. I do it all the way to the end. That becomes a basic chapter-by-chapter synopsis, I suppose, though I hadn’t thought of it that way. I often add or change things as I get to drafting those chapters, but it is a great road map.
Hi Erin! You’re not alone in taking on the technique around the midpoint (someone above mentioned it, too). Actually, now that I think of it, I’m at the midpoint of the trilogy, and in need of a road map, so I guess I’m right there with you. :)
Thanks, Erin! Glad it resonates. Hope you’re enjoying our mini summer in October (looks like it won’t last long).