Addendum to Synopsis Post

From a private email:

“I hate synopses. I can’t wait until I’m published and don’t have to write them anymore.”

Um, no. Nice try, though. And while I am sure there are some writers out there who do not write synopses and sell their books anyway (please hold off on sending such reports; I know they are out there and bully for them) by making either blind contracts or selling off chapters sans synop, this is not always the case, and from what I understand, this is not even USUALLY the case.

Often, being published means that your synopsis is even more important, for instead of merely trying to get an editor to read the manuscript on the basis of your synopsis, you’re trying to get them to lay down money for a manuscript you haven’t even written because the synopsis makes it sound cool. In some contracts, there’s a whole chunk of money reserved until you turn in your synopsis or outline or what have you. At many houses, it’s the synopsis, and not the manuscript, that is given to the art and marketing departments. It’s the synopsis that tells the PR person what to put in the press release, the flap copy writer what to put in the blurb, etc. etc. It’s the synopsis that helps the marketing department decide how to present your book to the public. It’s kinda important.

So it’s not necessarily going anywhere after you sell your book, and it’s not one of those things you only have to do if you’re unpublished, and it is a valuable bit of craft to hone.

Is it important as writing a kickass book? Hell to the no. But picture this: You write a kickass book and a deplorable synopsis, which somehow does not prevent the editor from reading and falling in love with your kickass book. She takes it to the acquisitions meeting with a recommendation to buy. Her boss, her boss’s boss, and the marketing department don’t have time to read all seventy of the books the editors have brought to the table, so they just read the synopses. Yours is deplorable. They pass on your kickass book. Your editor is crushed and decides she’s burned out, can’t call ’em anymore, and she should pack up, move to Maine, and open an alpaca farm. Now not only is your book not going to be published, but your deplorable synopsis is responsible for ruining the poor editor’s career and reducing her to a life of llama shearing.

Do you really want that on your conscience?

I didn’t think so.