Synopsis
noun. A no-frills summary of your entire story. Yes, including the ending. Designed to make agents, editors, or competition judges say: Ah, this writer knows what they’re doing.
What is a synopsis?
A synopsis is a straightforward, beginning-to-end summary of your novel. It’s not a blurb. It’s not a teaser. It’s the whole story, laid out clearly and concisely — main plot, major characters, and key turning points included. No secrets. No cliffhangers. If a twist changes everything halfway through, the synopsis includes it.
Think of it as your story’s skeleton. Not the meat, not the style — just the essential bones holding it all up.
Why do you need one?
Because agents, publishers, and prize readers want to know you can plot. Voice is great, but structure? Structure shows you can tell a story from start to finish. A strong synopsis proves you’ve thought things through. It shows the emotional arc, the rising tension, the payoffs, and how it all wraps up. It’s the quick route to understanding whether your book works as a whole.
If a query letter is your pitch, the synopsis is your proof.
How long should it be?
Most synopses fall between one and two pages, though some agents may ask for a single paragraph, and others may want five pages. Annoying? Yes. Standard? Also yes. Unless otherwise specified, aim for one page, single-spaced, and written in third-person present tense, even if your novel isn’t.
So yes: “She discovers the truth and escapes” over “I discovered the truth and ran.”
What to include (without listing it all again)
Focus on the core plot: the main character, their goal, the major obstacles, and how it all resolves. You don’t need every subplot, side character, or moment of emotional nuance — just the elements that drive the story forward. Imagine you’re telling someone what your book is about over coffee, and they actually want to understand it, not just be dazzled.
And yes, spoilers belong. No holding back.
Writing a synopsis vs writing your novel
Writing a synopsis is a totally different skill from writing the book itself, which is why so many writers find it agonising. The tone is flatter. The sentences are simpler. You’re not trying to impress with style; you’re trying to communicate clearly. But here’s the secret: once you stop fighting that and treat the synopsis like a tool, not a masterpiece, it gets easier.
It doesn’t have to be beautiful. It just has to make sense.
