Documentation

Text

  • Typography on montrealserai.com is clean and legible, encouraging reading and scanning while reinforcing the credibility of our content.

    Fonts

    The following fonts should be used through out the site, social media and any other digital channels.

    Headings

    While editing content, the Author has access to all 6 HTML heading levels (H1 - H6). Headings help to define the page structure and importance and are useful to Users and search engines. While it is easy to define explicit guidelines for heading usage, sometimes we need to break out of the technicals in order to achieve a visual balance.

    H1 and H2 are reserved for templates

    It is not recommended to use an H1 or H2 – they’re reserved for the Montréal Serai logo and the H2 is used for the Article, Page or Post title. These are already being displayed on your page dynamically by the theme.

    Start at H3

    Authors requiring subheadings in their content should start at heading level 3. It is rare to require more than a single level but H4 and H5 are available as needed.

    Categories and labels

    Heading 6 is used across the site for categories and labels but is available to authors when needed. The Submissions is an example where the H6 is used to break up multiple sections that also have rich formatted text.

    If your heading happens to be ‘Intro’ or ‘Introduction’, it’s probably unnecessary but if you do break the rule, Heading 6 works best.

    Paragraphs and line breaks

    • Enter for a new paragraph
    • Shift + Break adds a line break

    Text best practices

    • Avoid using bold text as a section heading – Bold text is typically used inline, Use H5 it is visually identical and adds structure and a line break.

    Poems

    Poetry text can pose an ‘interesting’ challenge to the Author depending on the desired presentation. The problem usually lies in the difference between the physical and the virtual. Paper is fixed in its dimensions while being affected by ambient lighting, age etc, whereas the browser allows for scrolling, panning and zooming and only exists in light form.

    Default text

    Use default text when the poem form primarily consists of line breaks and paragraphs. These poems are not concerned with the character spacing or length of a line text. This is the most legible and consistent option.

    Monospaced font

    Monospaced fonts were invented to suit the mechanical requirements of typewriters. They were not invented to win beauty contests. Compared to proportional fonts, monospaced fonts are harder to read. And because they take up more horizontal space, you’ll always get fewer words per page with a monospaced font. Use monospace font when character positioning and line breaks are critical. If line lengths

    A tip for Editors and Authors, use Wordpress’ Group functionality to combine passages and sections

    Image: https://montrealserai.com/article/all-there-is-left/ https://montrealserai.com/article/poem-for-mani/

  • Fonts
    Headings

    H1 Reflections on Starry Skies

    H2 Whispers of Rebellion: Women in Bright Shadows

    H3 In connection with the Bay of Pigs and other beaches

    H4 A salute to the tam tams

    H5 Playing in the Quantum Field
    H6 Film Review
    Paragraphs

    Every so often, there would be a moment of stillness when the wavering leaves would suddenly stand upright next to a farmer’s cone-hat. The pure white hat made a distinct punctuation mark amidst the lush green cornrows.

    It reminded me of the lines of text in my notebook that I wrote with great care, using thick and thin strokes, as if the letters also yearned to join the beckoning dance of the corn leaves. School had been an adventure in boredom. Yet everything I saw related to it. Yes, I knew that being a well-behaved child meant being polite and obedient to grown-ups. I had tried my best. But how could I be good enough for them when the boredom they imposed on me only grew each day? It didn’t ebb and flow with the seasons like the water in the river.

    Rich text

    “No punishment, still scared,” was my body’s response.

    Second grade passed! I worked hard and earned the merit award for excellence. No longer a “rebellious element,” I would be on stage to receive my prize. My heart felt like bursting as the drum team marched into the hall, all dressed in crisp white uniforms and white canoe-caps adorned with gold stripes. Leading the team was a girl carrying a red-and-gold flag, waving it up and down in time with the music. Behind her was a boy holding a very big drum and a long instrument shaped like my brother’s tipcat stick. Six students followed on smaller drums, their drumsticks twirling nimbly in their hands.

    “Attention! Salute the flag… Salute!” the Young Pioneer Commander shouted.

    Fugitive literature

    • reflections
    • resonances
    • voices
    • perspectives
    • delving into blues, jazz and beat
    Interesting subheading

    Right after the command, five horns blared2, “toot, toot… toot…” I hardly recognized the music, even though

      the horn team had been practicing continuously
    for months. Perhaps I was sick of their blaring sounds echoing from the auditorium like the trumpeting of caged elephants in a zoo.

    It’s 1991, barely a year after the Oka Crisis, and I’m with other Commonwealth Fellows visiting South Pacific island nations. We’re in Samoa packed into a mini-bus on our way to visit the O le Ao o le Malo, Samoa’s Head of State, similar to Canada’s Governor-General.

    It’s almost Pavlovian. Ring that bell and get that answer.

    Poems

    Little Burgundy Piano

    In his room by St. Antoine, in a stone house
    Steep Wade sits on the edge of his bed and listens to the train,
    hears the grumble of the wheels, the squeal of the brakes
    while in his hands and fingers the ghosts of Tin Pan Alley tunes sleep.

    The curtains, diaphanous but stained a faint brown,
    filter sunlight from the street. The ashtray
    fills with butts from the cigarettes he smokes, one after the other
    in patient meditation, as a song sails through his soul.

    Walls
You tell me you are not like me. Nor am I like you,
but obliterating my thoughts, my feelings, my senses
was not yours to do.