How To Format Novel Manuscript Novels & Stories

Macie put his manuscript in her bag. She needed to focus on work and put the extremely sexy writer out of her mind. She'd go over it in the privacy of her home. For some reason she felt she'd need to. Later that evening after dinner she got comfortable on her couch and pulled out his manuscript. He had accepted her edits on the narrative part. And he had refused most of the ones on the characters. When she got to the first sex scene she froze. In the margin he had wrote, "Macie, we can start off with this scene and I'll ease you into it".

The stressful days of drafting chapters were a memory; the digital infrastructure was now self-sustaining. Avery sat at her terminal watching the page formatting of her completed manuscript lock into place. For over 15 years her words had been a lifeline—a shield she had forged to protect Leo and outrun a collapsing reality. Now the final line of her project had been written and the document was ready for the master archive.

For the next half an hour or so, Annabelle and I went through Archipelago database and our system, "Today, you will not work real work. Instead you will go through the manuscript that we have already decided to publish. You will go through our manuscript and publishing rules, and you will learn them by heart. I need you to be aware of them. I need you to know them day and night, and to be able to spot what we need within drafts and works that get passed through your hands. Is that fine with you?" I nodded and with a hand on my shoulder in support, she walked away.

She would be seventy now, or near it, and seventy wasn’t impossible but it called for a different explanation about what the graduating woman had looked like. Or it was someone exploiting the letter. Using the legend of it. Living by the particular knowledge that a solitary initial would accomplish more for Caelum than a name, since an individual was answerable and too extended out an initial was not. He stayed at the kitchen table long after I went to bed. The manuscript lay on the desk in his office that morning, its pages a stack, and he was already writing.

I said, with my voice booming around the walls of the classroom. "You are all to write a novel, the word count should not be less than thirty. Take note. You have a month and few days to finish it all up, no lazinees and no slacking. Just see it as another type of nanowrimo. So by next month ending, I would be expecting ebooks novels in PDF format, all of it should be sent to my email" I turned around swiftly, to scribble my email on the whiteboard. "I will be awarding the overall best of it all. Good day class." I said, dismissing them with a wave of my hand. They all moved out of the clsss with different expressions on their faces.

Deep down, I couldn’t wait to be done so I wouldn’t have to keep scanning through the bed scenes in the novel and thinking about crazy things. I wanted a new piece—one that would make me understand the state of her mind since three days ago. Would she write another book where the couple doesn’t work out and she ends up settling with his best friend? Or even his brother? Since our lives seemed to be her inspiration. I sat with the manuscript for about three hours, and when I was done, I sent it back to her email with the note: “This is beautiful—way better than the first draft. It’s always like that. I have highlighted a few parts that need some finishing touches, and you’re good to go.”

Basically, she likes my first three chapters and wants me to send the rest of the manuscript as soon as possible. ‘Oh, my god. Oh my god,” I squeal happily, jumping out of my chair and doing a happy dance. Celine goes into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of champagne. We open it and knock on wood so we don’t jinx my luck. We toast to my success. We get a little tipsy together. I tell Celine that we must keep in touch even once my month is over. She gives me a funny look but doesn’t try to pry. After about three glasses (champagne glasses don’t count as full glasses) Celine goes away to print out my manuscript and get it couriered over to the agency. I call Rosa.

Elle sat at her table and stared at the laptop, “A romance novel, eh?” She heaved a sigh shaking her head, “What the point it was all cliche, he ate my ears complaining how bad it was.” She pouted sulkily. She opened the laptop regardless and placed her fingers on the keyboard, she closed her eyes and took a deep sigh, “Fine, let’s give it a go,” She nodded determinedly. With the start of the novel, her fingers moved in a flow, the words went in a flow, she spent her day and night in front of the laptop, 3 weeks later, her book was done, she wiped her tears as she stared at her completed manuscript.