ConfusinglyDelerious
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- Joined
- Sep 13, 2013
- Posts
- 158
So what is the magic behind getting my line breaks to look like they are supposed to after something gets published?
Because in the Word document I wrote my latest story out in, I kept dialogue and blocks of text tight at times, for reasons of pacing.
And I did make sure to drop the entire thing into notepad, to get it scrubbed of all formatting Word might have caused.
And I did double-check things in the editor before I submitted.
So when I hit the button, a block of text would look like this:
Yet after being published, text is suddenly widely spaced, with double line-breaks instead of single ones, so the same block of text now looks like this:
And sometimes,
Because in the Word document I wrote my latest story out in, I kept dialogue and blocks of text tight at times, for reasons of pacing.
And I did make sure to drop the entire thing into notepad, to get it scrubbed of all formatting Word might have caused.
And I did double-check things in the editor before I submitted.
So when I hit the button, a block of text would look like this:
“Well that sure isn’t Ardbeg 10” I said with a raised eyebrow, as Derek fell into the other couch across from me.
“You’re absolutely right. And you should know what it is.”
He was wearing a smirk.
I took a sip, and felt my insides melt a little bit as my palate was first hit by the booze, before noticing that it was a whole lot smoother than the first kick would suggest. And then it faded away into sweet, fruity tastes.
“Damn… that’s the Cuvee, isn’t it?”
“It absolutely is.”
It was a 21 year old scotch, that had spent some of its life in wine casks. The stuff sold for roughly $130 per bottle. Booze old enough to purchase its own booze. Smooth as all fuck.
“Fucking hell brother, what’s the occasion?”
Yet after being published, text is suddenly widely spaced, with double line-breaks instead of single ones, so the same block of text now looks like this:
"Well that sure isn't Ardbeg 10" I said with a raised eyebrow, as Derek fell into the other couch across from me.
"You're absolutely right. And you should know what it is."
He was wearing a smirk.
I took a sip, and felt my insides melt a little bit as my palate was first hit by the booze, before noticing that it was a whole lot smoother than the first kick would suggest. And then it faded away into sweet, fruity tastes.
"Damn... that's the Cuvee, isn't it?"
"It absolutely is."
It was a 21 year old scotch, that had spent some of its life in wine casks. The stuff sold for roughly $130 per bottle. Booze old enough to purchase its own booze. Smooth as all fuck.
"Fucking hell brother, what's the occasion?"
And sometimes,