A Different kind of Writing Down the Bones
“I’ve been reading your blog,” said a masculine voice from behind me.
I spun in my chair, mouth agape, staring at a shaggy, black and white dog.
“Yeah,” he said, wandering into the room and glancing about with interested disinterest. “I’m your neighbor’s dog, Elliott. Like I said, been reading your blog and, well, I saw you mentioned me…favorably.”
I rubbed my eyes. “You…you…can talk?”
“Yeah.” Elliott did a dog shrug. “So?”
“I, I, I…”
“Look, get over it. You got bigger problems.”
“I do? Bigger than an uninvited talking dog in my office?”
“Yep.” He ambled to a spot near the desk, and turning circles, finally sat with a sigh.
“Such as?”
“Well, an editor’s reviewing your second novel…probably much needed. Your current query sucks, and the synopsis, well…” He licked his front paw, looked up and said, “It sucks, too. Sorry, the truth hurts, pal.”
“Thanks for sharing your opinion, uh, uh…”
“Elliott.”
“Whatever. What makes you an expert?…Elliott…and how do you know this stuff, anyway?”
“Well, as to the first, I used to belong to a literary agent. Guy name a Bransford.”
“Hey, I heard of him.”
“Yeah, he’s okay. As to the second, I can talk. Do you doubt I’d have trouble divining a few simple facts and drawing some conclusions? Look at you: the red-rimmed eyes of sleeplessness, the haggard expression of frustration. Look at the God awful mess you call a desk. How about those two, count ‘em two, stacks of contradictory how to books, that do nothing but depress and confuse you? Yeah, bucko, you’re in trouble.”
I most certainly am not in trouble, thank you very much.”
“Well, what was that milksop post about yesterday, then? I was embarrassed for you, man. Nearest thing to public weeping I’ve seen since Richard Nixon and Checkers. And, you know what happened to him?”
Checkers?
“No, Nixon, smart guy. Look-it, I can leave if you like, and take my literary tips with me.”
“No. Uh, no. Hang around a bit, why dontcha.”
“More like it.”
“Wanna bone?”
Elliot looked at me with disdain. “Pulllleeassse. I do have some dignity.”
“Sorry.” I surreptitiously picked up a pen…just in case a note or two of wisdom might need capturing. “So, What about the query, what do you suggest…being a former literary agent’s dog and all?”
“Watch the ‘tude?”
“Sorry.”
“Well, there are lots of techniques, but my favorite is, The Hook.” It’s got these elements.” Elliott took a deep breath. “Better write this down.”
I frowned…but wrote.
“The hook, a mini-synopsis, credentials and credits, the details, and closing.”
Uh huh, I mumbled, writing furiously.
“A hook, as you know, is an something that makes the reader wanna know more. So, begin that way. Save the boring stuff for the end of the letter. Don’t forget, the query is about the story, the story, the story. Nothing else matters if you can’t sell the story. You can’t do that if the agent’s not intrigued by the hook. Sounds easy and obvious, but it can be tricky.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” I mumbled.
“Take your novel for instance, maybe your query should begin like this…” Elliott pawsed, 
and cleared his throat.
“When the day began, neither Trevor O’Hanlon, a womanizing Journalist, nor Abby Teague an abused wife, expected to find themselves sheltering overnight in a mountain cave. They certainly didn’t expect to discover a leather pouch holding a photograph of an Indian woman and a cavalry officer, a gold wedding band, and an unfinished love letter…dated 1869. Nor, did they expect investigating the mystery would lead to four million dollars in illegal drug money and two dead bodies…one of which would be Abby’s husband.”
“Hey, not bad. Not bad at all. You know…for a dog.”
“’tude bro, watch the ‘tude.”
“Sorry.” I brightened. “But it’s not bad, really.”
“Yeah, it ain’t perfect, it needs some massage, but it’s sure better than that, ‘Hello, I’m seeking representation’ crap you got there,” he said, gesturing to my computer.
“Never mind what’s on my computer,” I said, closing the lid and turning a light shade of pink.
Elliott perked-up, cocked his head, and lifted an ear. “Gotta go,” he announced, getting up
“But, what about the mini-synopsis. That’s really hard. You can’t go now.”
Elliott, continued to walk toward the door, but turned and looked over his shoulder. “Okay, but this one, you gotta figure out the details. Just write an overview of your plot, include the central characters, and this is important, the core conflict. Touch on setting, time period, and bingo, a mini-synopsis.”
I wrote furiously. “Gosh, Elliott thanks.”
“Yeah, but the plot thing, don’t tell it, show it. No one wants to read, ‘and then, and then,’ ad infinitum.”
“Uh huh. Can you spell that last part.”
“No.”
“Uh, one more thing.”
“What?” he yelped, annoyed.
“Can you keep the barking down at night? Makes it tough to sleep.”
“Man, you do live in a world of fiction.’”
And with that, he was gone.
Themocracy
Could I borrow Elliot for a bit? His query synopsis is much better than what I’ve been able to come up with for my new novel so far. And the little birdie on my shoulder can’t hold a dog bone to this marvelous mongrel.
Marvin D Wilson
Very cute, Galen! And the hook sounds interesting! Smart dog! Joel doesn’t have nearly the attention span required to put together a decent hook, let alone a synopsis.
Confessions of a Watery Tart
I’m like Marvin–I definitely need an Elliot over at my house.
Synopses aren’t fun. I took an entire e-course on writing them and improved afterwards. But it still wasn’t fun.
Elizabeth
Mystery Writing is Murder
Does Elliott also do manuscript checks and offers help when your plot is stuck? If so, your neighbour may never see his dog again, as Elliott will be passed around from one desperate writer to another…
Oh, and I liked the picture of Nixon and Checkers. I might have to get to know those two a little better…
I live closer than Marvin and Elizabeth – can I have Elliot first? This is my all-time favorite post so far, Galen. What a creative way to impart such wisdom for us writers.
karen
Pawsed! Very nice. Thanks for my chuckle of the morning, Galen. (Put me on the list for Elliot, too. I can always use a beagle-eyed editor.)
Loved the conversation – I’m still smiling. I may look upon my neighbors barking dog with a little more kindness incase he decides to talk someday. I think the hook Elliott came up with is terrific and it has me wanting to read more.
As the morning developed, Marv, turns out quite a few folks want to use Elliot. So, I’m thinking this is possible…for a fee, of course.
Hart, Have you asked Joel to do these things? I mean, you never know, what’s the worst that could happen?
Yeah, Elizabeth, not sure which is tougher, Queries or synopses. You’ll note Elliott conveniently left when it was synopsis time. Course his hearing is better than mine…then, whose isn’t?
Collette, I’m not sure who’s the more interesting and principled, Nixon, or Checkers. Hmmm. Checkers for scruples, Nixon for interest.
Karen, like I told Marvin, Elliott is available…for a price. Of course, you’ll need a place where he can attend to certain critical dog duties during the course of the day. I lucked out during his visit with me. Maybe that’s where he had to go in such a hurry.
Ah, Alan, your comment shows why you’re one of my favorite bloggers, clever, dialed in, funny, and understated. Good work.
You never know, Jane, approach your neighbor’s dog with respect and in a humble manner and, who knows, he may decide to speak…almost guarantee it.
Hmm – barter perhaps? Would you consider a barter?
Marvin D Wilson
I for sure would. I understand you make Moonshine. Not for me, of course, but that Elliott, gives new meaning to the word, Hell hound!
So, now do we address you as “Dr. Dolittle”? Funny post, Galen, addressing an issue that every writer has come up against at one time or another. I wrote press releases for years – writing a hook isn’t too difficult after that. However…since my cats refuse to talk to me perhaps I could borrow Elliot.
Elspeth
Another entertaining post that made me laugh out loud. Have you done any other humor writing, Galen? Seems like you’d do really well as a columnist for a writing organization’s newsletter (such as Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers). Or have you submitted any article queries to Writer’s Digest (Chuck Sambuchino)?
I need that dog–I’ll even walk him more than three times a day.
Question–how do you show in a synopsis? I found that part really really hard to do although not hard at all in the manuscript to do???
Yes, Elspeth, I’ve softened on this, I’m bartering with Marv for Moonshine, so, whata got?
Patricia, thanks so much for the complement. I never thought I was especially funny. Still don’t, but I’m glad I could make you smile.
Yep, Terri, Elliott is in big demand. For the pleasure of three walks a day, I’m sure he’d be happy to visit. Good question on show in a synopsis. I’ll do some research and try to pull a talking dog out of a hat.
GREAT post! I love this! And who knew Nate-dog…uh, Elliot was your neighbor. Pretty handy as he is a fount of knowledge and wonderful advice. Seriously, I always learn something at your blog and get to smile too!
Nancy, from Realms of Thought…
*adding a trip to the local no-kill shelter to my laundry list of serious writer must-haves*
Galen – how helpful! Between you and the Query Shark I shouldn’t have a problem. As you know, this is just where I am. Believe me though, the query is a part I like and am quite facile with. I found interest for my first novel – it is just that my query promised more than I could deliver. Now I know I have a novel worthy of the hype so I’ll fly at it. Perhaps you should consider a small novel with Elliot – Dog Day Afternoon – or – The Poop from a Dog – (eek no…) or Barking Sane.