Mistress of Denial, and Lord of the Heels;
I need a snarkilicious answer to my dilemma: how do agents generally respond to words that are common in recent slang, but not embraced by dictionaries, and perhaps not widely-recognized? Say, a word like "snarky" which my American Heritage Dictionary doesn't list, and even dictionary.com defines as slang (though I could swear it's an official word in England)? Are too many of these relatively newer slang words, especially on page one of a manuscript, poo-pooed by agents--or poo-pooed on by KY? (You're dissing my hound's hygiene, ya skell)
And what about a word an author makes up consisting of a commonly used noun with a suffix not intended to be used with that noun, even though the resulting linguistic aberration would make sense to the average reader? For example, pretend it's 1990, and you saw the word "fashionista" for the first time on page one of a newbie's manuscript; long before that word entered American lexicon, or the prodigious vocabulary of Miss Snark. Are you turned off or turned on?
I'm not saying my novel is riddled with them, but would a made-up word (that made sense, of coursea) in addition to a recently minted slang word or two on the first page of a manuscript make you reach for the gin pail? For the wrong reasons, that is.
Then again, is there ever a wrong reason to reach for the pail?
Well sadly yes, there is one time when reaching for the pail is wrong wrong wrong.
That is when Miss Snark's hair is on fire.
Let's just say "Darwin Awards" queried Miss Snark that year...and not for the right reason.
Now, about your slangalang problemo.
If yanno (tm/pp) y'all are using the Queen's English in ways that make the Queen cry "Artemis Fowl", fine and dandy by me.
If I can understand it, I'll read it.
However, slang is a potent weapon in your diction arsenal and like Killer Yapp's delicate pink snout, you have to careful not to put it in the wrong place.
(KY: ya, the nose knows!)