The 8-year-old's synopsis
“What’s your story about?”
It’s probably the most terrifying question any writer faces. It doesn’t get any less terrifying when you start to learn the ropes about log-lines and high-concept pitches, about plot synopses and back-cover blurbs.
If anything, knowing makes the question even harder to answer. What do they want to hear? The pithy hipster version, e.g. “I’m writing about a cult of telepathic Marxists who decide to disrupt the American system of credit,” or the high-concept version, “Fight-club but with superpowers,” or do they actually want to know what happens?
How can I tell them the plot of the story when I don’t yet know it myself? How much time do I have before they stop paying attention? And will my story survive their disinterest?
When you read enough back-covers and synopses, you realize that most stories follow a fairly similar template, one I’m sure an AI will one day generate.
{{Protagonist}} is {{living their usual way of life}} when {{some event}} forces them to {{go somewhere, do something or make a fateful choice}}. {{Protagonist}} tries {{their usual coping mechanisms}} but {{things get worse}} until {{protagonist reaches lowest emotional point}}. Ultimately, {{protagonist}} discovers new reserves of strength in {{friends, allies or themselves}} and conquers {{problem or antagonist}}. At the end of the story, {{protagonist}} is {{living their new way of life}}.
I call this the 8-year-old’s version of the story, because children’s stories are frequently in this format to drive home some particular moral lesson. It’s actually remarkably useful even for adult fiction. If you can’t tell the 8-year-old’s version of your story, your plot may be too complicated. It also helps to find an actual 8-year-old and try to tell the story to them. If they ask you for details—Where did the protagonist live? How did things get worse?—you have a winning story. If they ask you for clarity—Why did the protagonist do that?—you have problems with characterization that no amount of plot will fix.
Doing this helps you identify the bones of your story, the skeletal structure and character journey. Each of the lines of your synopsis might expand into several plot points and chapters, but now, even if you’re pantsing, you won’t lose your way.