at home for once

until i go back in at 11. gotta work a grocery store trip in somewhere...

i continued to drive myself nuts with my synopsis last night into this morning, and i just decided that it's a waste of time to worry. granted, i haven't written a book report in about...oooooh, almost 10 years *and suddenly i feel old*, but that's essentially what a synopsis is, at least in my view. *eureka!*

think about it:
depending on page length, you're merely hitting the high points of the novel, granted, with a little more finesse than the standard listing of events. there has to be a little personality involved, which is probably not a big deal for most writers b/c they write with personality anyway (me, not so much). they have an innate sense for writing entertainingly, throwing in a few quips here and there, and making the story come alive. i do not. that is where my problem lies. on paper, apart from the actual novel, i have no personality. so i shall work on that.

but continuing... i remember in school when we'd have to write one-two page book reports, especially in eighth grade English. i never put a whole lot of thought into them then, but i still managed to cram what i needed to into the length. i got the gist of the story, important things that happened, and the ending. and that, my friends, from what i've gotten out of hours of reading, is what a synopsis is. a book report. with feeling and personality. crammed into one-three pages depending on the chosen agent.

i feel like i've cracked the Da Vinci code. this may not help anyone else, but it certainly makes me feel better. and i haven't even been up an hour yet.