Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Jake initiated the transfer of Nancy’s money, and was sitting in his office looking out the window at his doomed tennis court when Mrs. Miller rapped on his open door. “Jake,” she said. “My friend Debi Whitehead is visiting. You should hear what she has to say.” Debi was the office manager for Sam Eugene, the local member of the Pennsylvania House of Representatives. She job-shared with her sister Donna. They’d been in the position for a long time and were well trusted by Sam and Punxsutawney. It was, in general, worth hearing what she had to say. Jake stood and tried to look gracious while the two women settled into the visitor chairs the Mrs. Miller, who seemed to regard him as a local nobleman, insisted were befitting his position. Mrs. Miller briefly caught him up on Debi’s husband and grandchildren, avoiding the faux pas he surely would have committed if he’d tried, and then said, “Our new neighbor has been visiting Sam’s office.” Debi nodded and took up the narrative. “That Hilda Kessler, prefers to be called ‘Doctor.’ She’s a visiting professor at IUP.” Indiana University of Pennsylvania was thirty miles away, but had a branch campus in Punxsy. “Her field is analytical sociology, which she says is using math to look at what people do.” Mrs. Miller said, “Dr. Kessler and her little sister Laurel are renting Edna McCall’s house.” She gestured across the street. “I took them cookies when they moved in a few weeks ago. They seemed surprised. Laurel didn’t say a word the whole time I was there. She’s a tiny thing, probably less than a hundred pounds, and much younger than her sister. Maybe eighteen. Hilda’s forty or more, and… well, I wouldn’t call her petite.” Debi made a tiny snort. “Doctor Kessler wanted an appointment with Sam, and of course I asked the topic. She went all around the barn, didn’t understand why she should have to deal with a mere secretary like me. Finally she said she’s been looking at Jefferson County finances going back several decades, and has noticed what she called anomalies over the last twenty years. More people are paying that occupational privilege tax than are on the tax roles, she says. We’re taking in too much money, she says.” Mrs. Miller said. “Not decades, though. Eighteen years. Since he’s been” — she glanced at Jake — “making sure they did their part for the government.” Debi nodded. “I don’t know, or need to know, everything, but Sam has told me you’re trying to make sure the Amish people up there” — she nodded toward the woods behind his house — “do their part. Sam thinks it’s great that they pay voluntarily.” Jake was sitting up straighter. “What did you tell the professor?” Debi’s eyes went wide. “Well, nothing, of course. How is it her business?” The administrator shook her head. “She didn’t like that, I can tell you. Seemed to think everybody should roll over and worship her PhD. I told her it was nothing to do with the Pennsylvania House, and therefore there was no reason for her to meet with Representative Eugene.” She paused, biting her lip. “I didn’t realize she was renting a house in the area. That could make her into one of Sam’s constituents, and he prioritizes making his constituents happy, regardless of whether it’s his scope. It’s why I have a bunch of boys on retainer to shovel old ladies’ walks and mow old ladies’s grass.” Mrs. Miller said, “Surely Sam wouldn’t… well, blab?” “Oh, he’s careful enough,” Debi said. “I just like to keep him out of awkward situations when I can. I told the professor she might be better off talking to the county commissioners or the state auditor general’s office. After she left I called all of them and found out she’d already been all those places and nobody was inclined to help her. Anyway,” she heaved herself to her feet, “I thought you should know.” “Yes, thanks,” Jake said, also standing. Debi turned to her friend. “Thanks for the pie, Grace. Best in the county, at least now that my mother in law is gone. Nice to catch up with you, Jake. I don’t see you out and about very much. ” “I’m a homebody, Debi. I make it to church, usually. Anyway, thanks again,” he said. After she left he turned, again giving his attention to the tennis court. Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Name of Setting Location Role in Story: Related Characters: Season: Unique Features: Description: Sights: Sounds: Smell: Notes: Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Jake paused for several seconds, wishing she was just a little less rude. When he felt in control of himself again he forced a chuckle and said, “Nothing like that. Basic contracts with some local landscaping and other maintenance companies, and a small army of high school kids every summer. My mother used to enjoy coordinating it all, and now” — “Not interested,” she said, and then contradicted herself. “You’re claiming this is all done by humans?” “Umm,” he said. “Well, yes. Of course they use machines. We have a couple yard robots that” — “You don’t have little people running all over here every night? Folk, somebody called them?” “Doctor Kessler, you’re trying to make something out of nothing. Your comment about plantations reminds me, though. This area has a rich history of immigrants, both as artisans and as heavy laborers. I don’t think history, at least popular history, has adequately told the story of either. When I was in college” — “Not interested,” she snapped. “Don’t try to change the subject. What’s your relationship with the community to the north?” They swarmed over the fallen tree, each to their task with practiced efficiency. Two used a double-ended saw — in other contexts it would be called a “two-man saw” — to cut the trunk into neat sections. Another used loppers on the branches, and fence repairs started as soon as there was space to work. The new moon combined with cloud cover and the canopy of trees to give near-darkness, and their tools were selected for near-silence. There was nothing humans would consider conversation, only muttered commands: Forward, back, up, down, left, right, along with a very specific grunt that translated to, “The other left, you idiot.” In eight minutes they were done. Everything and everyone was in the rubber-tired wagon, the robotic engine headed back into the compound. As if they’d never been. Insert dedication here. Feel free to delete this document if you don’t need it. Mug in hand, Jake frowned out the kitchen window. Eventually he said, “Did something change out there? The light’s different. Or something.” Mrs. Miller put down her rolling pin and walked over to stand beside him. “A tree came down in the storm yesterday, just there.” She pointed. “It broke the fence.” “What?” She shook her head. “Not the fence-fence. The decorative fence, the split rail. Looks like they fixed it last night and cleaned everything up. It was a good sized tree.” “Efficient little buggers,” Jake said. He ignored the older woman’s frown. “Guess I should be used to it.” “I’d call them industrious,” she said. “By the way, Nancy asked me to remind you about the tennis court?” “Hmm?” he muttered. Mrs. Miller sighed. “She suggested converting the tennis court into pickleball courts. She thinks it would get more use. We talked about this a month ago.” “Oh, yeah. Has anyone ever used that tennis court? Beyond kids goofing around, I mean.” She shook her head. “Not in my lifetime. According to my mother, your grandmother played exactly two games before she decided she hated tennis.” She tilted your head, remembering. “Your father once decided it was silly to maintain it, year in and year out, and asked them to make it into lawn. They told him there’s more than a foot of hard-packed gravel under the clay, all of which would have to be dug out and hauled away, replaced with topsoil. And by then it was too visible from the road for them to do the work, so he’d have to hire humans. He decided to keep the tennis court.” “So for forty or fifty years they’ve raked it and repainted the lines — what, every week? New nets every year?” “At least,” she said. “I imagine they check it over every night, clean up the leaves and such.” “What a waste,” Jake said. “Well, they don’t do things by halves. Nancy said there are some groups at church who would enjoy pickleball. The conversion would be straightforward. Just new nets and lines, no changes to the structure of the court itself.” He shrugged. “Whatever. It would mean more people hanging around here, but I suppose it should be used.” “If you agree, Steward” — she hit the title hard — “you need to tell them.” “Oh. Remind me later today, would you?” He put his mug down on the edge of the counter, and the housekeeper caught it as it fell. “I’m going to take a walk.” As he headed to the door she said, “There’s a Rotary meeting this morning at eleven.” He paused. “Is it important?” She sniffed. “I don’t believe it’s anything special, but you’ve skipped the last two.” “Shoot.” He looked at the kitchen clock. 10:15. The restaurant was a twenty minute drive, and he’d need to shave, shower, and put on nice clothes. Without further comment he drifted out the door, across the lawn, disappearing into the woods. Grace Miller shook her head. Then she rinsed the mug and put it into the dishwasher. And finally got back to her rolling pin. Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Mrs. Miller found him there a minute later, when she returned and handed him a mug of herbal tea. As the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder looking north, she asked, “How much trouble is this going to be?” He wrapped his hands around the mug. “For them?” He nodded toward the window. “None. They’re pretty much untouchable. For me?” He hoisted the mug a few inches. “A bit. Contributing extra money to the tax authorities isn’t illegal, so that won’t be a problem. They” — again he nodded toward the window — “will grumble, saying I brought attention to them for no good reason, and that they’d warned me.” He took a sip of tea. “Which they did.” “What about the professor?” his housekeeper asked. “Yeah, that’s the rub,” he said. “It would really, really be best if she doesn’t get onto their radar.” “What do you think they’d do?” “Their tradition, when somebody threatens them, is to make that person disappear.” “But you said they’re untouchable,” Mrs. Miller pointed out. “Oh, I meant they’re untouchable legally. They’re still totally fixated on avoiding human interference or even influence. If they think her interference could lead to humans encroaching into their space…” He sipped his tea. “She’ll go poof.” “Why are the so panicked about humans finding them? I’ve never really understood that,” she said. “Well, look at the history of powerful cultures interacting with weaker ones. All the explorers. They brought disease, they stole land and anything that could be stolen, they enslaved them. It’s not a pretty picture.” “Surely humanity has advanced past that?” she said. “We’re more civilized than those old Conquistadors.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think so?” He gestured toward the window. “I don’t know how many Folk there are as of today, but something like six hundred. Let’s say a thousand to make the math easy. Their balance sheet shows they’re worth, collectively, a bit more than a billion dollars” — “What?” she gasped. “How?” “There’s a long history. As you said, they’re industrious, and there’s the miracle of compound interest. So that means every one of them” — he pointed to the window — “leader, laborer, or infant, is a millionaire. How many people in Punxsy are millionaires, do you think? Other than you, me, and Nancy?” “A few,” she said. “Sure, a few. But I think the rest would be very envious, wondering why these aliens should have so more than they do. But” — he held up a hand — “that’s only public money. I know for sure they’ve been accumulating off-the-books wealth for years. Gold, silver. Drugs; I tried to get rid of the drugs, but who knows? More recently, Bitcoin. “For that matter” — he put his mug down, becoming more agitated — “how much do you know about the history of Bitcoin? It involves very clever math, and was originated by an anonymous person or group that called itself Satoshi Nakamoto. Nobody has ever figured out who Nakamoto was, in spite of a whole lot of investigation. I think there’s a possibility that the Folk came up with Bitcoin. It’s actually very logical, they’re mathematic and computer geniuses, and they’re really good at keeping a secret. But here’s the kicker: Nakamoto has a million Bitcoin, worth something close to a hundred billion — with a B — dollars.” “Oh, my,” she said. He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “So disease and envy by local people are one thing, but my real fear is when rumors get started. The Folk are Satoshi Nakamoto. The Folk have more gold than Fort Knox. The Folk have drums of cocaine. Or” — he waved a hand — “a collection of Beanie Babies, or US State quarters. Whatever. It would be a modern gold rush, people from all over the country, all over the world, overrunning them. They wouldn’t last a day.” He picked up his mug and sighed. “All they want is to be left alone.” Title page to the manuscript. tim Your address Your phone number Your e-mail address (Your agent’s name) (Your agent’s address) <$wc100> words. <$PROJECTTITLE> by <$fullname> This is the title page of the manuscript. Note that its “Section Type” is automatically set to “Front Matter” in the metadata tab of the inspector, allowing the title page to be formatted differently from body text during compile. The <$PROJECTTITLE> and <$fullname> tags get replaced with metadata information you can set when compiling. Other information is taken from the Author Information settings in File > Options… when the project is created. The <$wc100> words tag will be replaced with the word count rounded to the nearest 100 during compile (this and other tags can be inserted from the Insert menu). Feel free to edit the text of the title page as required. Maybe, Jake thought as he looked at his front window, I need more male friends. He reflected on this for a moment, and then amended it to, Or at least fewer female friends. A moment later Nancy Miller blew through his front door. “Hi, hi,” she said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. “Mom said you were okay with the pickleball thing. Now we have to decide what court configuration you want.” She held up four sketches, fanned out like a giant poker hand. “Given the size of our tennis court, we could do one, two, three, or four pickleball courts.” “Umm…” he said. Nancy grinned. “You don’t care, do you?” He shook his head, and she went on, “Then we’ll do two. One would be dumb because, part of the reason pickleball was invented was to get more use out of court space. Four would mean a whole lot of people could play at once, which would annoy you. Three is… well, just kinda dumb. So two it is. I’ll email you this.” She took her phone out of her jeans pocket and her thumbs flew. “You’ll tell them? Some people at church are organizing things for this summer and I’d like to include pickleball.” “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll forward it later today.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll text you later to remind you. Please do it?” “Of course, Nancy.” She laughed and gave him a one-armed hug. “Thanks. Also…” Her face corkscrewed. “Please don’t be insulted, because I don’t mean it that way. You’ve been totally faithful and good to me, and you’re smart as all get out. The best steward ever…” Her voice trailed off, and Jake said, “But?” Nodding, she said, “You don’t have a succession plan.” She held up a hand. “I understand — of course I do! Better than anybody. And I’m sure it will work out…” Again Jake prompted, “But?” “I’ve been talking with Keith Shaw — I mean, that’s not important, I know you don’t totally trust Keith…” “Our problem was in fourth grade, Nanc. I’ve kinda moved on.” She nodded. “I just mean it’s not just Keith…” She closed her eyes and said, “I’m thinking I should diversify my investments. Move some money outside.” She opened her eyes and searched his face. “Please don’t be insulted. It’s just… if you got hit by a bus tomorrow —” “Not all that likely in Punxsy.” “Well, no, but… I mean, I hope you live until you’re a hundred and fifty, I really do, but statistically…” “You’re likely to outlive me. You’re younger, and women live longer,” he said. “Yes. And, well… What if I don’t have access to my money when you’re gone?” “Right. You’re being sensible. I’m not insulted. I should have thought of it, suggested it. They’re really good at managing money, of course, and you won’t do as well outside, but you’re right. You should diversify.” He stood, looking thoughtful, and then nodded again. “What are you thinking?” “Well Keith…” She gulped. “I mean, I was thinking… maybe move a couple hundred thousand?” He walked to a roll-top desk and extracted a manila folder. “Your investments currently total just over nineteen million —” “What?” It was a gasp. “I thought I had, like, four hundred K.” “I told you you’d never have to worry about money, Nancy,” he said. She nodded. “Yes, and I’ve always believed you. I just didn’t know I was going to be rich.” “Well, there you go.” He looked uncomfortable. “You might want to, um, be a little careful who you tell. You know all the stories about lottery winners being miserable when their relatives descend upon them.” “I know,” she said. “I’m not really sure who I’d tell anyway. Just you, I suppose.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t scrutinize the reports they give you every month.” She put a hand up to rub his bicep. “No. I always just trusted my steward.” She drew a deep breath, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Zowie. Maybe I was happier not knowing. What do you think I should do?” Don’t tell Keith, he thought. He said, “It might be good to — initially, I mean — stick to your original thought, move, say, a quarter million.” He looked down at the report in the folder. “I’ll ask them for suggestions, but that shouldn’t disrupt their investment strategy. So move that for now, see how it goes, how you feel.” He smiled. “I’m feeling pretty healthy, and other than school buses the only bus in town is that old one the CMA church uses, and Fred’s a good driver. I think you have time.” Still gripping his arm, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Jake. Are you sure you don’t want to marry me? Turns out I’m rich.” “Nanc —” “Kidding, kidding, relax.” She stepped toward the door. “Can you have them put that into my savings account at Farmers and Miners and let me know? And I’ll talk… I mean, I’ll work out exactly what I want to do with it.” “Sure thing. Probably take a day or two.” She smiled, and then was gone. Frickin’ Keith Shaw, he thought. Your dedication here. Feel free to delete this document if you don’t need it. Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Note that in the “Metadata” pane of the Inspector, under “Section Type”, the “Default Subdocument Type” is set to “Front Matter”. This setting causes all subdocuments of this folder to use the “Front Matter” section type by default (that is, when “Structure-Based” is selected as the section type). This saves us from having to manually assign the “Front Matter” section type for each document we place into this folder. During Compile, documents assigned the “Front Matter” section type will be laid out differently from documents in the main body of the manuscript. Copyright © <$year> <$author> All rights reserved. ISBN: ISBN-13: Feel free to delete this document if you don’t need it, or edit it for your needs. She was, Jake thought, the least attractive human being he’d ever met. Since she was taking her time assessing the house, he had a moment to look at her through the window, and he pondered that initial impression. He was repulsed. He’d known people who didn’t, physically, have much going for them, and hadn’t reacted to any of them this way. What was different about her? She was tall and broad shouldered, but no more so than Nancy, and he thought Nancy was the most attractive person he knew. It was the total lack of joy, he finally decided. This woman had no light in her eyes, not even a hint of twitch to her lips. She didn’t just look unhappy, she looked determined to stay that way. When she began impatiently eying his doorbell he decided it was time to open the door. “Hello,” he said, trying to sound pleasant. “I’m Dr. Kessler,” she snapped. “Dr. Hilda Kessler. I’m currently an adjunct professor in computational sociology at Indiana University of Pennsylvania, and my sister and I have taken the house across the street. I presume I’m speaking to Mr. Jake Deaver?” “Yes, you are.” Jake chuckled. “Technically Dr. Jake Deaver, but as my mother used to say, my PhD didn’t seem to take. Call me Jake. Please come in?” Holding the door, he stepped to one side. She didn’t move. “Nobody told me you had a doctorate.” Explanation was demanded. Again he chuckled, though it sounded a bit forced in his own ears. “I’m not surprised. In a small town people think the only real doctors are the medical ones. Of course it’s different for you in academia.” He gestured, trying to look gracious. “Won’t you please come in?” “Where’d you get it? Your degree?” “Carnegie Mellon,” he said. “In theoretical physics, if you can believe it. Not exactly applicable to my present life.” “Hmph,” she said. He had a prestigious degree from a prestigious school. Her degree, the private detective’s report said, was from a tiny school in central Indiana that had since lost its accreditation. One step above clipping a mail order coupon from the back of a magazine, the report said, but a small step. And she wasn’t, for that matter, an adjunct professor at IUP. She was renting an office in one of their disused administration buildings. Since he wanted her to be friendly — if that was even possible — Jake didn’t pursue discussion of any of this. He simply waiting, holding the door with his left hand out to invite her in, and started to feel foolish. Finally, still glaring at him as if he’d deceived her, she stepped inside. “I have questions for you,” she snapped. “About my education?” Jake was now sincerely confused. “No, of course not,” she said, waving her clipboard. “Why would I care about that? About the community behind your house. The little people, as the locals call them.” “May I get you something to drink? Ice water, or tea?” “No, no,” she said. “This isn’t a social call. It’s academic research.” Although the report said she was forty-eight years old, Jake would have guessed she was much older. His grandmother had acted more youthful at ninety. He steered her to the dining room table and held a chair for her until she sat. Sitting across from her, he said, “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help to you.” “Why not?,” she wasped. “People say you’re the one who knows. Somebody said you make your money off this community. You and” — she looked at her clipboard — “a Miller family. There are a bunch of them. Must breed like rabbits.” He imagined the matriarch of that family listening at the kitchen door. At least he hoped she was, because he’d want to discuss the professor’s visit with her. “If you’ve been asking questions,” he said while trying to look pleasant, “I imagine you’ve learned that folks around here like their privacy. Myself included. It’s one of the privileges of living in a rural community.” “Humph,” she said. Without asking permission, she stood and crossed into his parlor, to a back window. “You’ve got a big playground out here. I see people in and out all the time. What’s the deal with that? Some kind of public park?” He stood and walked to stand beside her. “It’s not technically public, but it’s open to anyone from around here to use. My family has a lot of land” — “Over a thousand acres!” she said. “That’s unheard of in this part of Pennsylvania. Farms are seventy acres, eighty at most.” He paused until he was sure she was done, and then continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And we share these facilities with the community. Community was alway a priority for my grandmother and my mother.” She peered. “So you’ve got a tennis court, a swimming pool — what all is out there?” He smiled. She found a way to make the most reasonable question into a rude demand. Pointing, he said, “The swimming people is by arrangement only, for safety. We provide a lifeguard for groups. There’s a trap shooting range up behind that barn for which we also require arrangements in advance, and a ten meter air rifle range inside the barn. The rest of it is open all the time. The court you’re seeing used to be tennis, now it’s pickleball. There’s a children’s playground, and badminton. Horseshoes and corn hole over there. And over there” — he pointed — “are two trail heads. One trail is gentle, about a mile without serious hills. It’s very pretty, with flowering shrubs and streams. Some beavers have been flirting with it, and we’re hopeful. The other is five miles and somewhat demanding. Then there are several acres of grass, ballfields and a couple pavilions, for general use. Picnics, things like that.” He stepped away, back toward the dining room, but she stopped him by saying, “Do you know what this reminds me of? Plantations. Where they had slaves to do all the work.” Jake felt as if he’d been slapped. This was dangerous territory. He gave himself a little mental shake and replied, “What an odd thing to say. Have you published work about plantations? I’d be interested in reading it.” She had not published anything whatsoever, the private detective had told him. Jake figured the best defense was a good offense, and he needed defense. Her ugly face flushed. “It was just a general observation. Obvious to any intelligent person.” “Ah,” he said. “Well, Dr. Kessler, we’re neighbors, and I wish we could be friends, but you seem disinclined to accept my hospitality. It’s time for you to go, but my door is always open to you… if you’re coming in peace.” “You’re throwing me out? You haven’t answered a single question I’ve asked.” He opened his front door and stood beside it. “Good bye, Dr. Kessler.” She strode to the door, but stopped directly in front of him. Pointing to his nose, she said, “I don’t give up. You’ll find I can be very unpleasant until I get my way.” He closed the door gently, in the process pushing her out like hemorrhoid cream from a tube. When the door finally latched he closed his eyes and muttered, “That’s what I’m afraid of.” “Did Judge Snyder know about this?” He hesitated. He knew Mitch Snyder had been a beloved mentor of hers, and things could go very badly on this topic. Finally he said, “Yes, except my dad and my grandfather briefed him. Judge Snyder was appointed during the period they were both active. I don’t know exactly what they told him. Or how they told him.” The green eyes burned into him. “What aren’t you telling me? Better out than in, bud.” He sat for a long minute, and considered further stalls — maybe going to the bathroom or getting himself something to drink. She probably wouldn’t tolerate it. He said, “My father, and especially my grandfather, had a different style from me. Less… honest. It might be better to let the details be lost in history.” “Are you implying Judge Snyder was corrupt?” Her words bit. “No.” He shook his head. “I’m implying — saying — my grandfather was corrupt.” He closed his eyes and held up a hand. “Here’s what I know. When I turned eighteen my father briefed me on the steward’s job —”’s “I thought you didn’t start this until your father passed away? After we were out of college, when you were — what, twenty two?” “Twenty three, and yes, that’s true. But the normal process, the historic one, is that stewards overlap from the time the new one turns eighteen until the old one dies. We started down that road, but I… refused the job. After I learned some of the details about the job. The situation. It caused a lot of confusion.” She nodded. “Sorry I interrupted. Your father briefed you?” “Yeah. And he told me — he laughed about it…” Again he closed his eyes. “Quote, ‘If you ever have to deal with Mitch Snyder, just work the word Rossiter into the conversation.’” “Rossiter? Like the little town?” “Yes.” “The judge had a camp there. He liked to…” She waved a hand. “I don’t know. Chop wood, mow grass. Get away from people, I think.” “I don’t know what the significance of the word was,” he said. “My father just told me what I told you, and by that point I was feeling very sketchy about the whole thing, so I didn’t ask for details.” “Did you ever use it?” she asked. “Once, and I regretted it. A couple weeks after my dad died, when I was just accepting that I had to take this job, there was a crisis. A hunter trespassed on Folk land — walked past about a million signs — and…” Again he hesitated. “Somebody shot at him. Shot him, actually. The bullet clipped his arm.” “You think they shot him?” she asked. “Did that ever happen before?” “I’d rather not talk about historic things, bad things, that I don’t have first-hand knowledge of. But I’ll say one of my first changes as steward was to have some serious fences put up, and they’re not there to keep the Folk in.” “They protect us English?” She used the description some Amish used to describe non-Amish. He nodded. “Anyway, this guy complained to a sheriff’s deputy, who happened to be new to the area. That deputy wanted access to Folk land — which of course on paper looks like my land — and I refused. He went to Judge Snyder for a warrant.” “And you said, ‘Rossiter.’” Again he nodded. “It was the first time I’d ever met with him, and that word was kinda the first thing out of my mouth. Stupid. In retrospect, I think that was supposed to be some kind of nuclear option, break glass in case of emergency, but I was new on the job and kinda panicked.” “What did he do?” she asked. “Got very angry. Threw me out, and cited me for contempt. Fined me two hundred and fifty dollars. The citation said I’d been disrespectful, implied I’d cursed at him.” “Textbook contempt of court,” she said. He continued, “But then he did what I wanted. Denied the warrant. Said the hunter was trespassing and there was no crime committed. That it was within a landowner’s rights to defend their property against an armed intruder who’d been reasonably warned he was trespassing, and there was no reason to investigate further, no justification to poke around my property.” She considered. “That’s probably the right ruling. What he would have done anyway, if you’d reasoned with him rather than threatening him.” “Yes. Which is what I did after that, the couple times things ended up in front of him. And after we put up the fences, Judge Snyder became gracious to me. I think he appreciated the fact that I was actively protecting his constituents.” “So your theory is that your father, or your grandfather, blackmailed him? Maybe about something that happened at his camp? Or is your theory that they bribed him, paid for the camp?” “I don’t have a theory. I’ve told you everything I actually know, and I don’t want to speculate. Judge Snyder had a good reputation.” “Pristine,” she said. “And he deserved it.” She glanced at her left wrist, which was bare, and then up at the kitchen clock. “Four am. I should get home before the girls wake up and catch me sneaking in in my pajamas.” “Your husband doesn’t mind?” She shrugged. “We’re still trying to figure out this judge thing. He’ll raise an eyebrow” — she demonstrated — “when I’m grumpy tomorrow, but he understands.” Then she looked at him, her eyes widening. “Or did you mean he’d be jealous I’d spent the night with you?” She shook her head. “He understood from Day One that you were a factor in my life. Well, not Day One, because he was around first, but” — she waved a breezy hand — “whatever.” She stood, put the cookies away, and put her glass into the dishwasher. At the door she turned. “Thanks. I need to think about this, how to handle your little people —” “Not people,” he said. She frowned. “Not cattle, though. There’s a lot of established law regarding person hood —” “Kathy, they don’t want laws, not from Pennsylvania or the United States. They just want to be left alone.” Her chest inflated, a tirade building. But then she slowly released the breath. “Let me think, and then we’ll talk.” With a twiddle of her fingers she was out the door. Leave me alone Andrew Nonymous 700 words. Your manuscript should have your address and contact details on the title page only. If you have an agent, your agent's address can be included beneath. NOVEL STANDARD MANUSCRIPT FORMAT by Andrew Nonymous Nonymous / MANUSCRIPT FORMAT / 1 Chapter One Standard manuscript format is often required for novels so that work can easily be read by editors. It allows editors to estimate word count and determine roughly how many pages will be required to produce a book using the page size, style and font of their house. This PDF file was generated via Scrivener's compile feature and was created from the "Novel" project template. Manuscripts for full-length novels require a separate title page. The author's name, address, telephone number and e-mail address should be shown in the upper-left corner of the title page, single-spaced. The title of the story should appear in all caps about halfway down the page. The author's name follows the title on the by-line as the author wants it to appear when published. A real name or pseudonym may be used and may include initials, actual given name or professional designation. All text should be double-spaced and left-justified with a ragged right margin. Paragraphs should be indented by about five Nonymous / MANUSCRIPT FORMAT / 2 spaces (half an inch) and not separated by an additional blank line. (It used to be traditional to separate each sentence with two spaces, but in these days of word processors this is now less common.) A 12-point font such as Courier, Times New Roman or Arial should be used throughout. In Scrivener, however, you can write using any font and formatting you choose--the options in compile can be used to change the formatting in the compiled document. In the "Novel" project template, the compile settings will deal with changing the font and formatting to those required for standard manuscript format. Top, bottom, left and right margins should all be approximately one inch, not allowing for the page header. Each page except for the title page should include a header comprising the author's real surname, the title of the work (or a key word from the title) in capitals, and the page number. In Scrivener, all of this is handled for you by the "Manuscript" compile formats. # Scene breaks are indicated with the hash character. Do not simply add an extra line space as this can be missed by the typesetter. The "Separators" tab of Scrivener's compile format designer can handle this for you if you are writing each scene as a separate text document. In general, this will be handled by compile in Scrivener, however, so that you can either leave empty lines in the text (and Scrivener will insert the hash character Nonymous / MANUSCRIPT FORMAT / 3 during compile) or use different documents for different sections (and Scrivener will add the hash between them). Some editors and publishers prefer emphasis to be indicated by underlining rather than italics. In Scrivener, this conversion can be handled by compile. The "Manuscript (Courier)" compile format will convert italics to underlines, whereas the "Manuscript (Times)" format will not. Nonymous / MANUSCRIPT FORMAT / 4 Chapter Two Begin each new chapter on a new page like this with the chapter number about a third of the way down the page. In Scrivener, this can all be dealt with in the compile settings. In Scrivener, all of this is handled automatically by the "Manuscript" compile formats. Although it is often said that writers should not use the word-count features of their computers to determine the number of words in a manuscript, most publishers and editors will happily accept a word processor word count these days. In Scrivener, you can insert a word count of your manuscript by using Edit > Insert > Draft Word Count (for a manuscript, you may wish to have the word count rounded to the nearest 100, in which case select Edit > Insert > Draft Word Count > Rounded To Nearest 100--this feature is used on the title page of this manuscript, in fact). Note that the actual word count will not be inserted, but a tag that will be substituted for the word count upon export. In Nonymous / MANUSCRIPT FORMAT / 5 reality, the formatting of a manuscript is often only really crucial when submitting directly to a publisher--first time novelists will usually submit to an agent first, and agents are often less picky about format and will point you in the right direction before submitting your work to a publisher. # Much of the information contained in this document is based on a description of novel manuscript format by Matt Carless for the BBC Writers' Room website: http://www.bbc.co.uk/writersroom # # # # # Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: Jake froze, and then sighed. He said, “Dr. Kessler. I’ve worked out what I’m about to say with my attorneys, so I apologize if it doesn’t sound very spontaneous. I dislike the idea of anyone, including you, investigating what I consider to be private. However, I recognize your right to do academic research, and the potential historic value of that research. If you were to investigate something not involving me, something like the Walston coke ovens, or possibly the immigrant craftspeople who produced fantastic woodwork and other art in this area, I’d be interested in supporting your work financially.” She interrupted. “I’m not” — Jake overrode her. “If, however, you persist in investigating things that directly disrupt my privacy, I will use every legal means my attorneys can think of to block you. I believe the majority of the people of Punxsutawney will support me in this effort. And my financial resources are deep.” She sneered. “You think” — He held up a hand. “I’m not finished. Also, the public areas of my land are open to all. Private areas are clearly marked with signs and fences. I want to emphasize that attempting to proceed past those signs and fences is trespassing. Pennsylvania law allows specific recourse against trespassers, and any or all of them might be employed here. Please do not test this. Stay outside the fences.” He took a deep breath. “I’m done now.” Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: <$PROJECTTITLE> <$author> These tags get replaced with the information set in the metadata tab of compile. Alternatively, you can simply replace this text altogether. Mrs. Miller came in from the kitchen a few seconds later. “What an unpleasant person. How you tolerated her as long as you did I’ll never know.” She handed him a plate carrying a thick sandwich on dark brown bread and, when he looked suspiciously at it, exclaimed, “It’s just tomato, peppers, and avocado — nothing to upset you. You haven’t eaten a thing all day.” He looked confused. “Haven’t I? I had an apple for breakfast, didn’t I?” “That was yesterday, Jake.” she said. “One apple, yesterday. You’re not doing anyone any good by starving yourself to death.” She pushed the plate at him. “Eat.” MY GREAT NOVEL Anton Mouse Copyright © 2021 Anton Mouse All rights reserved. ISBN: ISBN-13: Insert dedication here. CHAPTER ONE The Mayor of Castanets Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam euismod porta tortor, non pretium justo tristique id. Nunc dignissim, metus at fringilla congue, diam sapien aliquet quam, sed eleifend nunc odio quis mi. In blandit nec dolor ullamcorper cursus. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Ut hendrerit ante et vehicula vulputate. Nulla venenatis pretium nisl, quis ullamcorper mi condimentum a. Nam ultrices elit arcu, tincidunt aliquet risus tempor et. Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel placerat, fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. 1 Anton Mouse * * * Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urnaz semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus 2 My Great Novel eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. 3 CHAPTER TWO A Tomb with a View Aliquam euismod porta tortor, non pretium justo tristique id. Nunc dignissim, metus at fringilla congue, diam sapien aliquet quam, sed eleifend nunc odio quis mi. In blandit nec dolor ullamcorper cursus. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Ut hendrerit ante et vehicula vulputate. Nulla venenatis pretium nisl, quis ullamcorper mi condimentum a. Nam ultrices elit arcu, tincidunt aliquet risus tempor et. Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel magna placerat, fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. 4 My Great Novel Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urna semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id 5 Anton Mouse felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. 6 CHAPTER THREE Madame Topiary Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Ut hendrerit ante et vehicula vulputate. Nulla venenatis pretium nisl, quis ullamcorper mi condimentum a. Nam ultrices elit arcu, tincidunt aliquet risus tempor et. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam euismod porta tortor, non pretium justo tristique id. Nunc dignissim, metus at fringilla congue, diam sapien aliquet quam, sed eleifend nunc odio quis mi. In blandit nec dolor ullamcorper cursus. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel magna placerat, fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. 7 Anton Mouse * * * Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urna semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis 8 My Great Novel nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. 9 CHAPTER FOUR Muddlemarch Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam euismod porta tortor, non pretium justo tristique id. Nunc dignissim, metus at fringilla congue, diam sapien aliquet quam, sed eleifend nunc odio quis mi. In blandit nec dolor ullamcorper cursus. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Ut hendrerit ante et vehicula vulputate. Nulla venenatis pretium nisl, quis ullamcorper mi condimentum a. Nam ultrices elit arcu, tincidunt aliquet risus tempor et. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel magna placerat, 10 My Great Novel fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urna semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat 11 Anton Mouse in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. 12 CHAPTER FIVE Do Sheep Dream of Woolly Androids? Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Ut hendrerit ante et vehicula vulputate. Nulla venenatis pretium nisl, quis ullamcorper mi condimentum a. Nam ultrices elit arcu, tincidunt aliquet risus tempor et. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam euismod porta tortor, non pretium justo tristique id. Nunc dignissim, metus at fringilla congue, diam sapien aliquet quam, sed eleifend nunc odio quis mi. In blandit nec dolor ullamcorper cursus. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet 13 Anton Mouse lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel magna placerat, fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urna semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. 14 My Great Novel Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. 15 CHAPTER SIX The Unbearable Lightness of Punning Ut in turpis varius, suscipit magna non, cursus mi. Suspendisse sem nunc, facilisis eu scelerisque at, tincidunt id nulla. Ut condimentum orci et erat venenatis varius. Vestibulum dapibus, mauris eu rhoncus elementum, ante purus ultrices est, id ultricies metus tellus vel tortor. Morbi ac rutrum urna. Pellentesque commodo mi vel congue scelerisque. Fusce a lorem sed urna dignissim pulvinar non in magna. Mauris blandit in nisl vitae scelerisque. Vestibulum sagi is felis et mauris euismod posuere. Curabitur in tellus sit amet lorem ornare pharetra. Vestibulum vel magna placerat, fermentum elit id, hendrerit libero. Etiam ma is consectetur egestas. Etiam nec nunc ornare, blandit ex sit amet, feugiat ligula. Pellentesque bibendum placerat risus a semper. Pellentesque consequat faucibus pellentesque. Nullam in aliquet est. Ut imperdiet augue sed mauris molestie ultrices. Aliquam eros tellus, venenatis sit amet arcu et, placerat 16 My Great Novel lacinia ex. Donec sollicitudin odio id urna semper, tempus maximus nibh sagi is. Cras lacinia orci ut vehicula molestie. Nulla facilisi. Aenean sodales ut neque sed sodales. Nulla pellentesque tincidunt ante, ut eleifend risus finibus eu. In quis luctus orci. Donec a lorem tristique, egestas dui nec, interdum augue. Aliquam imperdiet vestibulum ultricies. Suspendisse augue ante, tristique gravida dolor id, finibus volutpat nisl. Aenean dapibus sollicitudin est. Duis aliquam lacus nec velit lobortis, vitae pulvinar diam commodo. Suspendisse scelerisque purus nec nunc ornare rhoncus. Vivamus eu aliquet est. Maecenas cursus quis elit vel ornare. Fusce vitae nisi non purus pretium pellentesque nec imperdiet justo. Morbi dictum elementum felis non sollicitudin. Nam euismod pharetra faucibus. Praesent scelerisque fermentum tortor, bibendum ornare turpis posuere nec. Curabitur in odio eu massa condimentum tincidunt. Pellentesque dapibus metus tellus, quis porta lectus feugiat in. In ac imperdiet elit. In risus est, rhoncus eget vehicula id, feugiat at ipsum. Morbi pulvinar dolor quis nisi tincidunt vulputate ut id felis. Maecenas sed nisi laoreet purus consectetur semper at eget nulla. Donec faucibus velit tortor, eget venenatis eros laoreet vel. Duis non lacus metus. Donec suscipit sodales velit nec lobortis. Aliquam erat volutpat. Sed semper vel purus ac feugiat. Praesent arcu nulla, por itor vitae leo id, convallis molestie sem. Proin molestie, tellus eget volutpat egestas, diam lorem dictum massa, lobortis egestas leo massa convallis enim. Morbi feugiat quam non ornare bibendum. Praesent mollis vitae leo a sodales. Nullam mollis dolor quis nisi congue, at 17 Anton Mouse maximus enim tempor. Vestibulum ut leo ac dui ornare malesuada. Maecenas in lorem sit amet lorem tempor tincidunt sit amet non ligula. Phasellus rutrum ex quis sagi is condimentum. 18 Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: <$BLANK_PAGE> During compile, Scrivener will try to remove any unnecessary blank pages. The <$BLANK_PAGE> tag tells Scrivener to leave this page blank (the tag itself will be removed from the compiled document). Wolf’s eyes. That was the way Jake’s freshman roommate had described Kathy, “The girl with the wolf’s eyes,” and the description was never more applicable than now, with her green eyes shining through the window of the kitchen door. A moment later she was inside, pushing past him, talking a blue streak. “What kind of cookies does Mrs. Miller have?” she said as she opened the cabinet door and grabbed the canister. “I’m glad you’re awake.” “I wasn’t until you called.” “It’s your fault that I couldn’t sleep. Are these raisin filled, or apricot?” She bit into one and closed her eyes. “Raisin! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, or better yet bring me some. These are my favorite.” She frowned. “Except maybe the lemon ones. Or those pecan squares.” She took another bite and, mouth full, asked, “How do you live here and not weigh four hundred pounds?” “I don’t eat the cookies.” “Yeah, well, more for me.” She looked him up and down, taking in his plain blue gym shorts and t-shirt. “Is that what you sleep in? Boring. At least you should have something on your shirt, a rock band or the Steelers or something.” “I’m more of a Pens and Pirates guy, but those logos are scratchy. Anyway, nobody sees me at night. And you’re one to talk. What are those, flannel jammies?” She looked down at herself. “Merino wool, I’ll have you know. It’s all the rage for women of a certain age because it’s temperature regulating.” She plucked at her shirt. “A little thin and clingy for going out in public, maybe, but you’re hardly public.” She crossed to a different cabinet, took out a glass, and then went to the refrigerator for a pitcher of milk. With another little moan, eyes closed, she said, “Whole milk! I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. Tim’s cholesterol is borderline, so we only buy skim. It’s blue.” “I assume you want to follow up on today’s briefing,” he said. The wolf’s eyes flew open. “Duh! Big surprise, you wait two months after I’m sworn in, and then schedule a fifteen minute meeting to tell me there’s a challenge to the United States Constitution lurking in my county and ask me to ignore it.” “Your clerk would only give me fifteen minutes,” he said. “Well, maybe you should have told him more than, ‘a quick greeting from an old friend.’” “Sorry about that, but the whole point is that they want to stay off the radar. Everybody’s radar.” “So why tell me at all?” She carried the milk and cookies to the table and sat down. “No, I guess I get that: Because sooner or later something tangentially related is likely to come before my court.” He sat across from her. “Yeah. Although they haven’t for the last decade or so. It used to happen more often. Better you know up front.” Character Name Age • Location Role in Story: Goal: Physical Description: Personality: Occupation: Habits/Mannerisms: Background: Internal Conflicts: External Conflicts: Notes: NOVEL FORMAT About This Template By default, when compiled (File > Compile…), this project will generate a document in the standard manuscript format for novels. Settings are also provided to make it easy to compile to a paperback-style PDF for self-publishing or an ePub or Kindle ebook. How To Use This Template Inside the “Manuscript” folder, create a new folder for each chapter and title each folder with the name of the chapter. If you don’t intend to use chapter names, just use something descriptive that tells you what the chapter is about. (You do not need to—and indeed shouldn’t—title the folders “Chapter One” and so on, because chapter numbering will be taken care of automatically during the Compile process.) The first chapter folder has been created for you with the placeholder title “Chapter”. ⁠Note: The “Manuscript” folder is what we refer to in the documentation as the “Draft folder”. It’s just been renamed “Manuscript” in this template. Create a new text document for each scene inside the chapter folders. (Upon export, scenes will be separated with the “#” character for standard manuscript format and with a blank line for other formats.) Information about characters can be placed in the “Characters” folder, and information about locations can be placed in the “Places” folder. (These are just regular folders that have had custom icons assigned to them using the Documents > Change Icon feature.) Character and setting sketch sheets have been provided which can be used for filling out information about the people and places in your novel. These are located in the “Template Sheets” folder. You should not edit the documents in the “Template Sheets” folder directly unless you wish to change the templates (which you are free to do—you may wish to customise the sketch sheets or get rid of them entirely). To create a new character sheet, click on the Characters folder (or wherever you want to create your new character sheet) and from the Project menu, select New From Template > Character Sketch. This creates a new character sketch document for you to edit and fill in with your character details. You can create setting sketch sheets in the same way. Alternatively, you can just click “Add”, or hit Ctrl+N, with the Characters or Places folders selected. You can view character and setting sketches in the Inspector as follows: Select the “Bookmarks” pane in the Inspector. If necessary, click on “Document Bookmarks” at the top and switch to “Project Bookmarks”. Click on the dropdown arrow next to the “Characters” or “Places” folders in the Bookmarks list and choose the sheet you wish to view. A “Notes” folder has been provided for project-level notes. This has been set as the default Bookmarks folder in Project > Project Settings…, so that when you create a new document from the Bookmarks sidebar in a Quick Reference panel, the document will be added to this folder. Compiling Title pages and front matter are all provided in the “Front Matter” folder (between the “Places” and “Notes” folders). Different front matter is used for different formats. Tip: You can open this document in a Quick Reference window and have it open alongside the compile dialog if you need to refer to these instructions while compiling. To compile to standard manuscript format Edit the “Title Page” document inside the Front Matter/Manuscript Format folder to ensure that it contains the correct information (by default it will use the Author Information supplied in File > Options…). Go to File > Compile… Next to “Compile for”, select “Print”, “PDF” or one of the rich text file formats such as RTF, Word or OpenOffice. Select either “Manuscript (Courier)” or “Manuscript (Times)” from the list of formats on the left (note that this list changes depending on the file format you have chosen). Ensure that the “Add front matter” button is ticked under the contents list on the right and that the “Manuscript Format” folder is selected in the pop-up button next to it. (This has already been set up for you.) Click on “Compile”. To compile to paperback PDF format Edit the front matter pages contained inside the Front Matter/Paperback folder. Go to File > Compile… Next to “Compile for”, select “PDF”. Select “Paperback (5.06" x 7.81")” from the list of formats on the left. Ensure that the “Add front matter” button is ticked under the contents list on the right and that the “Paperback” folder is selected in the pop-up button next to it. (This has already been set up for you.) Click on “Compile”. To compile to ebook format Edit or remove the dedication page contained inside the Front Matter/Ebook folder. Feel free to add any other front matter documents as required. Import a cover image. You can store this anywhere, but it makes sense to place it in the “Ebook” front matter folder. A placeholder cover image is already provided—you will want to delete that once you have imported your own. Be sure to check online for recommended image sizes and file format, because the recommendations are constantly changing. The sample cover image provided is 2,500 x 1,563 pixels. Go to File > Compile… From the “Compile for” menu, select one of the ebook formats. To create an ePub file, choose either of the “ePub Ebook” formats. To create a Kindle file, choose the “Kindle Ebook” format. Select “Ebook” from the list of formats on the left. If you have front matter documents other than the cover image, ensure that the “Add front matter” button is ticked under the contents list on the right and that the “Ebook” folder is selected in the pop-up button next to it. If you don’t have any front matter documents, you can un-tick “Add front matter”. (Un-ticking this does not affect the cover image.) Above the contents list in the rightmost header bar are six buttons. Click on each of them in turn to go through the various available settings, changing what you need. In particular: Fill in the metadata such as author name and book title. Ensure your cover image is selected and shown. Click on “Compile”. Making Changes There are various minor changes you can make to tweak this template so that it better suits your needs, as follows: Project and author name: The default book title and author name used in headers and elsewhere can be edited in the metadata pane of Compile (click the tag icon in the rightmost header bar of the Compile panel). Chapter subtitles: By default, Compile for this template is set up so that chapter numbers are added but not chapter titles. If you want to include the title of the chapter folder in Compile: Click on “Assign Section Layouts” at the bottom of the Compile panel. Select “Chapter Heading” in the list on the left. Select a different layout on the right, such as “Chapter Title”. (These layouts determine how each part of your manuscript looks in the compiled text.) Font: You can override the font used throughout a compiled document. At the top of the “Section Layouts” pane in the centre of the Compile panel, change the “Font” setting. Note that fonts are not included in ebooks, however—e-readers choose their own fonts (and you would need to pay a hefty fee for a licence to embed a font in an ebook). The “Font” setting is therefore not available for ebook formats. Page size: The “Paperback” formats are set to create a PDF with a page size of 5.06" x 7.81" or 6" x 9", which are two of the formats you can use with Amazon’s CreateSpace and are popular sizes for trade paperbacks. You can create your own paperback format using a different page size as follows: Right-click on the “Paperback (5.06" x 7.81")” format in Compile’s “Formats” list. Select “Duplicate & Edit Format…”. The compile format designer window will open. In the “Format Name” text field at the top, change the name to something meaningful (e.g. “Paperback (5.5" x 8.5")”) and select “My Formats” as the “Save To” location. Select “Page Settings” in the sidebar. Click on the “Page Setup…” button. In the “Page Setup” panel that appears, ensure “Custom” is selected in the “Paper Size” menu and click the “…” button. Enter a new paper width and height. (Do not worry about setting the margins here; if you want to change these for the compile format, do so after the next step by clicking the “Margins” button just below “Page Setup…”.) Click “OK” and then click “OK” again. Click “Save” in the Compile panel. This will return you to the main Compile preview. You now have a variation of the paperback format using a different page size that you can use at any time with any project. Making your own special folders: The “Characters” and “Places” folders are just regular folders that have been set up in a particular way; you can create other folders that work in a similar manner. To create a folder with a custom icon, add a new folder, place it where you want it, ensure it is selected, and then go to Documents > Change Icon to choose a different icon. To create your own template sheets, create a new document inside the “Template Sheets” folder and set it up however you want (e.g. add text, change the title or icon, set default metadata and so on). Now this document will be available as the basis for creating new documents from the New From Template menu. To make it so that adding a new document to the folder created in (1) always results in a document based on the template set up in (2), select the folder and go to Documents > Default Template for Subdocuments, then choose the template document you created. Working with chapters instead of scenes: By default, this project is set up so that you write each scene as a separate text document. If you don’t like to break things up quite that much and would prefer to write an entire chapter in each text document, make the following changes: Rename the “Scene” document to use your chapter title and move it so that it is on the same level as the “Chapter” folder rather than being inside it. Create a new text document for each chapter. Go to Project > Project Settings… and select “Section Types”. Select the “Default Types by Structure” tab. Delete “Level 1 files” and “Level 2 files and deeper”. In the “Section Type” column, change the setting for “All files” to “Chapter”, then hit “OK”. This tells Scrivener that all your files contain chapter text, not scenes. Compile has already been set up to apply the right formatting to the section types defined here. Using a custom table of contents in ebooks: When exporting to ebook format, Scrivener automatically generates a table of contents. If you would like to customise what appears in the contents, follow these instructions: Create a document for your table of contents inside the Front Matter/Ebook folder. Name the document “Contents”. With the “Contents” document open in the editor, select Navigate > Editor > Lock in Place. The editor header will turn pink to indicate the lock, and you will be able to work in the binder without affecting the editor. In the binder, select the documents you would like to appear in the table of contents (hold down Ctrl to select more than one document). For a simple flat list, drag the selected documents into the editor and drop them in the empty “Contents” document. Alternatively, if you would like the table of contents indented to match the binder structure, select Edit > Copy Special > Copy Documents as Structured Link List and then click into the text of the “Contents” document and hit Ctrl+V or use Edit > Paste. The documents you wish to appear in the table of contents will now appear as a list of links. If you wish to centre the table of contents, select the text and centre it. In the Inspector, change the “Section Type” of the “Contents” document to “Table of Contents”. Remove the editor lock by toggling Navigate > Editor > Lock in Place or deselecting the option from the menu that appears when right-clicking the document icon in the editor header. Now, when you compile, your custom “Contents” document will be used instead of the automatically-generated one. The titles in the links of the “Contents” document will automatically be updated to match those of the final compiled ebook. Sample Documents The “Sample Output” folder inside the Research folder contains examples of documents that have been created by compiling from this template. “Standard Manuscript” shows the results when compiling to “Manuscript (Courier)”, and “Paperback Novel” shows the results when compiling to “Paperback (5.06" x 7.81")” format with chapter subtitles included, as described in Making Changes, above. Final Note Scrivener project templates are flexible and are not intended to restrict you to a particular workflow. You can change, delete or move the files and folders contained in the template to suit how you work. Like all templates in Scrivener, this project was originally created from the “Blank” template. We’ve simply added a few folders and set everything up in ways that should be useful to novel writers. Everything you can do with this project, you could equally do by creating a “Blank” project and setting it up yourself. You can create your own templates by setting up a skeletal project with the files, folders and settings you would like to use for new projects and using File > Save As Template… Jake and Mrs. Miller stood silent for a minute, and then she asked, “So what are you going to do about this professor?” “I’m open to suggestions,” he said. “I guess I have to talk to her, but I have no idea what to say. Under other circumstances I’d ask them” — he nodded toward the window — “for a script, but they’d say I created this problem by being too scrupulous about taxes, and now they’d clean up my mess. And the worst part is they’d be right.” “Maybe you could seduce her,” she said. “You know, wine and dine her. That’s what James Bond would do.” He burst out laughing. “I’m a forty year old confirmed bachelor who rarely leaves his house, hasn’t done more than drink tea with a woman in” — he squinted for a second, calculating — “twenty-two years, and your first thought is of my romantic appeal?” “You’re not so bad,” she said. “You’re rich.” “And I have a wonderful housekeeper,” he added. “Until she decides to stay home and put her feet up.” “Why would I do that? You know my husband. What are we going to do, look at each other all day? Neither of us is interested in travel, and we don’t have any grand — ” She cut herself off, glancing sidelong at him. “Anyway, I enjoy coming here. It occurs to me that seducing the professor is unappealing, but her little sister is quite pretty and seemed much more demur.” “You said she was eighteen!” “I’m probably wrong about that,” she said. “Everybody looks young to me these days.” “Well, maybe we’re fretting about nothing. Debi and the others have blocked her, so she might give up. Meanwhile, I’m going to hire that private detective in Dubois to do a deep dive on her. Maybe she can be bribed.” He shook his head. “Financially incentivized to do something else. Offer her a million dollars to write the history of Punxsutawney Phil, or research the financial inequity of the Johnstown flood.” “I’d start lower,” she said. “People get suspicious when you throw big money at them.” “Good point,” he said. “Meanwhile, let’s hope they” — he nodded toward the window — “don’t get worked up about this.” “Poof,” said Mrs. Miller. Then she shrugged. “It’s a solution.”