Template synopses Part III: the sense of an ending - Rowena House

Six weeks into a concentrated period of plotting my PhD novel-in-progress, a psychological drama based on a seventeenth century witch trial, I’ve drawn two main conclusions about using synopsis templates as planning tools.

Firstly, it’s about timing and knowing when to grab that favourite guide off the shelf or open that e-book. Second, and this is related to the first point, it’s about knowing where you most need help.

Example 1: for my debut novel, The Goose Road, synopsis templates – and the planning systems that underpin them – came to my rescue after I’d got a comprehensive rejection email from Andersen Press, a generous analysis of my MA manuscript which proved to be an invaluable editing tool.

An anxious six months later, Walker’s Mara Bergman, a wonderful editor, offered a raft of great suggestions about how to make Angelique’s story publishable.

It was the combination of Andersen’s and Mara’s advice and my own imaginative ‘knowledge’ of the story that got The Goose Road over the publishing line, but only because I’d learnt by then how to order these new elements ‘properly’.

Basically, the templates I needed back then were those that helped me to spot what was missing in the narrative and, as a consequence, why the story flagged.

With the help of James Scott Bell’s Complex Plot Grid from his Plot and Structure guide, for example, I re-wrote the manuscript so it told a staged but linear story, with all its energy and drive focused on Angelique’s journey.

This structural/development edit didn’t create the story, however. Nor did vast amounts of work with plotting systems and template synopses save the umpteen failed book twos I’ve started and discarded since then.

Why, then, have the past six weeks working with template synopses been so exciting?

That’s example 2. 

The plotting systems I’m finding useful now aren’t spotting gaps; they’re talking about overall structure and how to arrive at the best end possible. They work, I think, because two years of research, character building and experimentation with voice have provided a wealth of specific ideas to test out against their templates.

The PhD itself is handling all sorts of other stuff, like why I’m writing this story at all, and what I hope to achieve with it; I’d also delivered to my supervisors an outline for a dual narrative and twin timeframe, which got their thumbs up, before setting out on this current voyage of discovery.

Meanwhile ABBA blogs, plus notes on my Facebook author page, offer a means to analyse my writing processes in a non-judgmental way.

What was missing was the cool professional voice which say, yeah, that’s okay, but that bit sucks.

Enter the story gurus and their synopses. 

Past experience has proved that writing my way into a story is guaranteed to end in a hellish place of confusion and disappointment. Thus, when instinct suggested synopsis templates as a subject for the January ABBA post, I believe that was my subconscious saying, hey, dopey, here’s what you’ve got to do next.

That’s what I mean about timing. Last time I needed help after rejection. This time, before drafting a full manuscript. Next time (if there is one) maybe it will be after a first draft or whenever the brain yells, Stop! You need help, girl. Go find some.

This, I suspect, is why Bell’s Complex Plot Grid didn’t come up trumps this time. I’m asking different questions, and can’t expect answers from the same places (although his Writing Your Novel from the Middle again proved a good cross-reference for other guidance about midpoints).

Story Grid, on the other hand, once re-read in full, simplified a complex structure of time shifts, jump cuts and dual narratives into a logical sequence of external and internal progressions spanning five acts. I had faith it could be done; Shawn Coyne helped me figure out how.

In the past two posts I’ve gone on enough about Jeff Lyons’ plotting systems for anyone to think I’m his PR agent, so I won’t mention him again except to say my fandom extends to shelling out $325 to do his Anatomy of a Premise Line online course. Starting Wednesday. Ye-ha. That’s not to say he is the ultimate guru; it’s just his system is a good fit for the work-in-progress.

Last month I was struggling for a metaphor to describe this process of using templates as test beds for creative ideas. On Twitter, I suggested it’s futile to invent the wheel for each story, so nab someone else’s and give it a spin.

Lately, I’ve stolen another image: a mansion of many rooms. Open each template door and see if you like the layout and décor. If you do, go in and sit awhile, then design your own room.

Or maybe it’s best to stick with Stephen King and his On Writing toolbox. Template synopses are gadgets that help make stories better. When you need one, dip in.

For what it’s worth, at the start of this plotting process I thought I would be ‘nailing the story down’ and wrestling my work into shape. The story itself felt like a force of antagonism I had to get under control.

It’s not been like that in practice. And it’s not been about solving technical questions, either.

Working with plotting systems has been fluid, creative, and energizing. It’s been about opening some doors and closing others. It’s been about making more informed choices about the material I’ve got and finding out where I need more.

Working deliberately and carefully with these guides has also silenced the inner demon that insists planning is procrastination and makes snide remarks about how few words I’ve written. The story will be better for thinking first and writing second. I’m sure of it.

Twitter: @HouseRowena

Facebook: Rowena House Author

Website: rowenahouse.wordpress.com

PS I’ll close this series on synopses and plotting now, without, as promised, talking about the OCEAN-based character arc system until I figure out if it’s useful again this time around. ''ll post links to the original ABBA articles about it on my FB author page in case anyone is interested.