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Slugline cuts off last letter
Slugline cuts off last letter






slugline cuts off last letter slugline cuts off last letter

Wow, page 1 was pretty light, wasn’t it? Let’s try our luck with page 2.Įven at those odd dark/light levels, that format looks familiar, I hope. I’m going to press on, nevertheless, and I hope you will join me.Īnd in the slug line at the top of every page of text: For some reason that remains as unclear as the lettering here, the site’s begrudging acceptance of imagery does not seem to be extending either to photographs (how I originally attempted to show you these pages) or sharp images in saved jpegs. My apologies in advance for variation in distinction across the examples that follow. Let’s take a peek - at the general shapes of a properly-formatted manuscript, that is. Specifically, on the manuscript’s title page. The first places that she typically gets to share that usually quite strong preference with the publishing world are the query (even if queriers leave out other necessary elements - and they frequently do - they virtually never forget to include the book’s title), the synopsis, and the manuscript itself. Until an aspiring writer finds herself in that jaw-dropping position (said the lady who murmured in response, “Okay, go ahead and change the title, but would you mind telling me what A Family Darkly means? It’s not a use of an adverb that’s common in English as it is actually spoken.”), however, she can cling to the blissful faith that the author, and the author alone, gets to dictate what verbiage goes on her own book’s cover. You get why colon-lovers and subtitle-huggers have been stressing out about this, though, right? Authors tend to become pretty darned attached to their titles - a pity, really, as it’s so very common for publishers’ marketing departments to remark cheerfully to first-time authors, “We love everything about your book, so we’re going to change the title, okay?” Okay, okay, so that’s not the most graceful of paraphrases, but you try summing up 7 1/2 years of writers’ angst in a single paragraph.

#Slugline cuts off last letter series

However, as a devotee of writing in increments, whether it be in complex titling ( Puppy Love in Giant Squid: Why Land-lubbers Should Care) or in movie-style series titles ( Jason and the Argonauts, Part II: The Harpy-repelling Years), I found myself glancing at your title page and slug line examples and wondering, ‘Hey, what does all of this mean for my beloved colons?’” I especially appreciated your having at long last given in to tumultuous popular demand and offered us a one-post visual tour of the constituent parts of a well-formatted manuscript. The purport of those questions, if you’ll permit me to paraphrase: “Gee, Anne, it’s terrific that you’ve recently walked us through the rules of standard format for book manuscripts - not to be confused, naturally, with the proper format for short stories, magazine articles, or the like, as not all writing should be formatted identically. While I’m at it, I’m going to seize the opportunity to answer a question a reader posted during our picture-free hiatus, a question that has been popping up in various forms and guises in the comments since I started the blog. To celebrate (and, if I’m being honest about it, to double-check that page-shot images are once again loading correctly), I shall be using this post to dunk a cautious toe back into the warm waters of explanatory illustration. And that’s good news, I suspect, both for your humble correspondent, the toiling soul generating most of the aforementioned imagery, and those of you kind enough to take more than a casual interest in my mid-blog examples. We have ample cause for public rejoicing at Author! Author! today, gentlefolk: for the first time in several nerve-wracking weeks, most of my site’s images appear to be visible to the naked eye of a casual bystander.








Slugline cuts off last letter