Why I Write My Pitch Before I Write My Book

The first time I tried to write a synopsis after finishing a manuscript, I genuinely blanked. I had just spent months with those characters. I knew the story inside and out. And I sat there staring at a blank document, completely unable to articulate what my own book was about.

Same thing happened with comps. I’d finish the draft, go looking for comparable titles, and realize I hadn’t been reading enough in that space to know what I was actually comparing it to. The pitch felt like starting over. The synopsis felt like translating a language I’d somehow already forgotten.

Everything I hadn’t done upfront became a second project tacked onto the end of the first one. And by the time I got there, I was depleted. The creative high of finishing the book had worn off, and all I had left was the slog of building a submission package from scratch—trying to reverse-engineer meaning from something I’d been too close to for months.

So many writers pour everything into the manuscript and then feel blindsided when the query process requires a whole different skill set. It’s not a character flaw. It’s just an order-of-operations problem.

So I changed the order. Not everything. Just enough to make the back end feel manageable instead of impossible.

Before I write a single scene, I outline. Bullet points, rough beats, a general sense of where the story is going. It doesn’t need to be detailed or elaborate, but the more complete the concept or worldbuilding, the longer my outline is likely to be.

My go-to framework is Save the Cat Writes a Novel by Jessica Brody. If you use it, there’s one thing worth knowing upfront: those beat percentages are averages compiled across many books. No single manuscript is supposed to hit those marks exactly. Some beats land earlier, some later. It’s a compass, not a rulebook. Treat it accordingly.

It’s also designed for commercial fiction. If you’re writing literary fiction, you can use it loosely or skip it entirely. The goal isn’t to follow a formula—it’s to go into the draft with a map instead of wandering in blind.

This is the part that surprises people most, and I get why. It sounds backwards. You haven’t written the book yet. How would you know what the pitch is?

But the pitch isn’t about summarizing your plot. It’s about knowing your story’s engine. What is driving the characters? The plot?

I focus on three questions I’ll need to answer eventually anyway. Who is the main character? What do they want? What’s standing in their way? Every subplot, every secondary character, every thematic thread in the book is a layer built on top of those three things. If I can name that driving force clearly before I start, I can use it as a north star while I draft. I’m not locking myself out of discovery. I’m making sure that whatever I discover ties together in some way.

But as much as I’d love to keep telling you about the how, I think many of you would love to see some actual examples. So I’ll share mine. Below are real working pitches and titles for the WIPs I'm in the middle of right now, plus some more tips.