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Blondchen

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My current WIP is going to include some interspersed chapters taken from a character's journal. I've seen similar techniques used in other novels - diaries, letters, manuscripts all quoted either within the context of the action, or outside of it. Sometimes they are italicized, sometimes the formatting on the page is completely different from the rest of the novel, sometimes the font is changed.

The question is, when writing your ms in Word using a lovely 12-point Courier font, how do you set off these sections without making them completely unreadable? Seriously, I wouldn't want to read six pages of underlined text if I was an agent or editor.

Any thoughts?
 

dpaterso

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You could try indenting, e.g.

June 1, 1902
Today I met Mr. Woostinghame for the first time, a stout, imposing fellow with bristling sideboards and a hearty laugh that rattled the windows. I hated him on sight.​

-Derek
 

Blondchen

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You could try indenting, e.g.

June 1, 1902​

Today I met Mr. Woostinghame for the first time, a stout, imposing fellow with bristling sideboards and a hearty laugh that rattled the windows. I hated him on sight.​
-Derek

Damn. Now I want to hear more about Mr. Woostinghame!
 

dpaterso

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No! Must... resist! Fingers... twitching! Can't... stop... unnnnggg...

When he was done exchanging pleasantaries with Mrs. Frobisher, who had brought me to this place in her gloomy black carriage, Mr. Woostinghame turned his attention to me. His lecherous eyes seemed to bulge as he drank in every inch of my appearance. His cheeks flushed purple and Mrs. Frobisher, watching him, gave a little satisfied smile as if relieved that Mr. Woostinghame took such pleasure at the sight of me.

The foul man accepted a glass of port from Mrs. Frobisher, which he tipped down his gullet in one. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, missing a red droplet that ran down his jowls and expended itself upon his cravat; and then he spoke to me. "Remove your corsets, girl. Let's be seeing what I've paid a pretty penny for, eh?"

I must confess I wibbled then, for until this very day, when my own stepfather had sold me into servitide after failing to break my spirit with his switch, I had been a good girl.​

So. Indents, eh? Might work. Might not.

-Derek
 

Seif

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No! Must... resist! Fingers... twitching! Can't... stop... unnnnggg...
When he was done exchanging pleasantaries with Mrs. Frobisher, who had brought me to this place in her gloomy black carriage, Mr. Woostinghame turned his attention to me. His lecherous eyes seemed to bulge as he drank in every inch of my appearance. His cheeks flushed purple and Mrs. Frobisher, watching him, gave a little satisfied smile as if relieved that Mr. Woostinghame took such pleasure at the sight of me.

The foul man accepted a glass of port from Mrs. Frobisher, which he tipped down his gullet in one. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, missing a red droplet that ran down his jowls and expended itself upon his cravat; and then he spoke to me. "Remove your corsets, girl. Let's be seeing what I've paid a pretty penny for, eh?"

I must confess I wibbled then, for until this very day, when my own stepfather had sold me into servitide after failing to break my spirit with his switch, I had been a good girl.​
So. Indents, eh? Might work. Might not.

-Derek


What a pervert!

Shame on Mr Woostinghame!
 
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