Sure, I watch the stuff, too — the riveting go-go-go travelogue of “The Amazing Race” as it airs, the soapy drama of “Nashville” on DVR, the gone-too-soon cleverness of “Veronica Mars” on DVD — but there is way more content out there than my eyeballs or my schedule can handle. Still, I’m curious. So I’ve gotten into the habit of regularly reading online recaps of a few shows that I’ve never actually watched, like “Boardwalk Empire”, “The Walking Dead”, and “American Horror Story.”
And it occurred to me, these little recaps are very similar to one of the novelist’s most dreaded nemeses: the synopsis.
Online TV recaps come in many flavors, but the most common versions are a page or two of text summarizing the main action of one episode of a show. And while there are obvious differences between describing what happens in a novel the reader has not yet read and bringing a TV show’s fans up to speed on one episode’s worth of action, there are some definite lessons from TV recaps you can use to guide your synopsis-writing (and -rewriting, and -rewriting) process.
First of all, something has to happen. This may seem obvious, but it’s worth saying. More than one of us has written a book scene by painful scene, only to arrive at the end of 80,000 words, look back, and realize that there is little to no external action. Your book is your book, and a quiet, reflective book isn’t going to have a bang-zoom-kapow synopsis, but if the verbs in your synopsis lean less toward “escapes” and “confesses” and “dies” and more toward “realizes” and “reflects” and “decides not to”, you may have a problem in book and synopsis alike. If it’s just “thinks about” over and over and over, you definitely have a problem.
Voice matters. You’re probably already sick of hearing people talk about the important of voice in a novel, but now you’re getting a double barrel: yes, voice is important in a synopsis too. A synopsis of a thriller should be thrilling; a synopsis of a comic novel should be funny. A recap of “The Walking Dead” is not going to use the same language or tone as a recap of “The Office.” Recounting events will get the job done, of course, but if you want a next-level achievement, infusing your synopsis with the same flavor and spirit as your novel is a real coup.
Too much is too much. I love an epic tale with a sprawling cast of characters, but if a synopsis asks me to remember more than 10 key characters, I’m probably going to drop a stitch here or there. (“Now which one was Carol again?”) A recap doesn’t describe every single minute of the episode; your synopsis doesn’t need to address every single scene in the book. A good way to test this is to read Television Without Pity, which posts “recaplets” the day after a show airs and then full “recaps” a couple of days later — they’re summarizing the exact same material, but the first time it’s a couple paragraphs and the second time it’s pages and pages. You’re going to leave things — a lot of things — out of your synopsis. You have to. Otherwise your synopsis would be 80,000 words long, and it would be the book itself.
Of course reading TV isn’t quite like watching it, and it’s the rare reader who would rather have the synopsis of a novel than the novel itself, for enjoyment’s sake. But both the synopsis and the recap have their place in the world. There’s an art to either.
(image via Flickr by lollyknit)