The parts that did not fit
The one-page resume asks you to delete most of what you have done. Scrolling through five pages asks the reader to do work they will not do.
A Slice keeps the single page and puts a dropdown under your name. Professional, education, military, volunteer, work that needed no degree, academic, athletics, the clubs you ran, the places you have lived. Each is its own page, and the reader picks the one they care about.
Nothing you type is sent anywhere. There is no account and no server holding your history. Your Slice stays in this browser until you save it to a file you keep.
Live. Open the dropdown.
Exporting the record on the right to JSON Resume, the nearest thing to a standard, produces the list on the left. Its twelve fixed sections have no place for military service or for work that needed no degree, so all of it collapses into one undifferentiated pile.
One list. A reader hunting for clinical experience scrolls past a line cook to find it.
Same person. The reader chooses the lens, and every lens fits a page.
All three land you in the same editor. Nothing is locked in: categories can be renamed, reordered, added, or dropped at any point.
Three things to know. There is nothing else to learn.
Send a recruiter the PDF or the plain text. Keep the .slc.html for yourself: many corporate mail filters quarantine HTML attachments, and no applicant tracking system will read one.
The PDF is written by this page rather than by your browser's printer, so it comes out identical on every machine. The text stays real text, which is what an applicant tracking system needs to read.
A category is just a page with a name. Pick one or write your own. Nothing is fixed: rename, reorder or delete any of them later.
Select everything in your current resume and paste it below. It gets split into categories and entries. Expect it to get some of this wrong: the point is to save you the typing, not to be right. You correct it in the editor.