textToHTML is a file and folder parser to generate HTML files from txt and markdown files. It can be run from the command line.
The tool also supports markdown features.
- To install the tool, make sure you have a version of npm/npx.
- From the project directory, run
npx texttohtmlv2
Input is required, stylesheet and output folder are optional. Default output folder is "./dist".
***Paths to input files/folders must be absolute unless in present working directory.
npx texttohtmlv2 -i <filename/foldername> -s <stylesheet url or path> -o <alternate folder output>
npx texttohtmlv2 --input <filename/foldername> --stylesheet <stylesheet url or path> --output <alternate folder output>
npx texttohtmlv2 --input <filename/foldername> --stylesheet <stylesheet url or path>
npx texttohtmlv2 -c <config JSON filename>
- Supports outputting to a specified folder.
- Allows adding of custom stylesheets to generated HTML files.
- If a Markdown file is provided, h1 and h2 headings may be generated using "#" and "##" respectively.
- Read config file properties and uses them in place of command line arguments.
- npx texttohtmlv2 --help or -h displays a help menu with options/commands available.
I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not
already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the
one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of
England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room
with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and
recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and
absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions
of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be
glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he
was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was
brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could
challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular
disappearance of the favourite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic
murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his
intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only
what I had both expected and hoped for.
“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in
the way,” said I.
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="utf-8">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1">
</head>
<body>
<p>I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the
one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of
England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room
with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and
recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and
absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions
of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be
glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he
was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was
brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could
challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular
disappearance of the favourite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic
murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his
intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only
what I had both expected and hoped for.</p> </br>
<p>“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in the way,” said I.</p> </br>
</body>
</html>I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not
already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the
one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of
England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room
with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and
recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and
absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions
of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be
glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he
was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was
brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could
challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular
disappearance of the favourite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic
murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his
intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only
what I had both expected and hoped for.
# “I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in
the way,” said I.
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="utf-8" />
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" />
</head>
<body>
<p>
I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already
been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of
conversation through the length and breadth of England. For a whole day my
companion had rambled about the room with his chin upon his chest and his
brows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with the strongest black
tobacco, and absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh
editions of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be
glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he was, I knew
perfectly well what it was over which he was brooding. There was but one
problem before the public which could challenge his powers of analysis,
and that was the singular disappearance of the favourite for the Wessex
Cup, and the tragic murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly
announced his intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was
only what I had both expected and hoped for.
</p>
<h1>
“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in the
way,” said I.
</h1>
</body>
</html>