[stylist] {Spam?} Metaphors: Just for Interest and Fun!

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Metaphor: Just for Interest and Fun!
>From my writing collection:
 
A metaphor is a 
figure of speech
 that describes a subject by asserting that it is, on some point of
comparison, the same as another otherwise unrelated object. Metaphor is a
type of 
analogy
 and is closely related to other 
rhetorical 
figures of speech
 that achieve their effects via association, comparison or resemblance
including 
allegory, 
hyperbole
, and 
simile.
 
In simpler terms, a metaphor compares two objects or things without using
the words "like" or "as".
 
One of the most prominent examples of a metaphor in English literature is
the 
All the world's a stage
 monologue from 
As You Like It:
 
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They
have their exits and their entrances; — 
William Shakespeare, 
As You Like It
, 2/7
Author Unknown!
 
 
 
I find that many authors write weak similes and metaphors. Part of the
reason for this is that they don't understand the purposes of figurative
language. Similes and metaphors can serve several different purposes,
such as creating atmosphere and introducing symbolism, but the main
purpose of these techniques is to help describe something that's
difficult to describe. The author thinks, "Okay, I can't really describe
X, so instead I'll compare it to Y, with which readers are very familiar,
so they can see X more easily." That can work very well. But many times
writers compare an X to a Y that we aren't familiar with, so X is not
illuminated by the comparison. This strange Y is distracting or
confusing, rather than helpful. Other problems are that Y may not be a
true parallel to X, or that an author compares X to several different
things, and those things create contradictory images. 
For example, "Simon leapt to his feet like a man who had just emerged
from a time warp." 
I have no idea how a man who has just emerged from a time warp would jump
to his feet, so this doesn't help me picture the way Dexter leapt to his
feet. Instead, I'm distracted by the idea of time warps, and a man
emerging from them, which has nothing to do with this story. 
Another example: "'Come in,' I heard a voice muse through the flame, a
voice that sounded like an army of ghostly voices all speaking as one
from miles and miles above." 
Above, the author is comparing the voice to an army of ghostly voices
miles and miles above. I have no idea what ghosts sound like, let alone
ghosts miles and miles above me, so this comparison doesn't help me hear
the voice any more clearly. I end up imagining some corny, clichéd ghost
voice from some bad horror movie. That's not good. 
A metaphor example: "And I drove my hand into her chest, into a warm,
fleshy glove, felt the ribs scrape over my palm, felt the beating of the
Heart." 
I like the fleshy glove comparison very much; I know what a glove feels
like, and that allows me to feel a very gross sensation. But the scraping
of the ribs contradicts the fleshy glove image. The author needs to keep
the imagery consistent. 
Other examples: 
They were spinning outward like a never-ending spiral of chaos that
wrenched every single atom of John's being away from his core and into
the swirling realities. 
I felt like I was ripped into a thousand tiny pieces and thrown into a
tornado. 
The truth hurts. Maybe not as much as jumping on a bicycle with the seat
missing, but it hurts. 
She marched down the street like any veteran soldier rolling up the last
mile between her and her bed. 
Good similes and metaphors are very difficult to write. Just keep trying!

 
Author Unknown!
 
Bad and really bad Metaphors! 
>From my writing collection:
 
The line separating painfully bad analogies from weirdly good ones is
as thin as a soup made from the shadow of a chicken that was starved to
death by Abraham Lincoln. Here are some fine examples: 
 
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating
for a while. 
 
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a
real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or
something. 
 
Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell
butter from I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. 
 
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes
just before it throws up. 
 
It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had
ever seen before. 
 
The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric
fan set on medium. 
 
Her lips were red and full, like tubes of blood drawn by an inattentive
phlebotomist. 
 
He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts
dogs, I suppose. 
 
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object. 
 
You know how in "Rocky" he prepares for the fight by punching sides of
raw beef? Well, yesterday it was as cold as that meat locker he was in. 
 
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
she were a garbage truck backing up. 
 
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any
PH cleanser. 
 
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
room-temperature beef. 
 
Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten,
actually. 
 
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. 
 
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to
the wall. 
 
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation
thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened. 
 
A branch fell from the tree like a trunk falling off an elephant. 
 
The painting was very Escher-like, as if Escher had painted an exact
copy of an Escher painting. 
 
Fishing is like waiting for something that does not happen very often. 
 
They were as good friends as the people on "Friends." 
 
He was as bald as one of the Three Stooges, either Curly or Larry, you
know, the one who goes woo woo woo. 
 
The sardines were packed as tight as the coach section of a 747. 
 
Her eyes were shining like two marbles that someone dropped in mucus
and then held up to catch the light. 
 
The sunset displayed rich, spectacular hues like a .jpeg file at 10
percent cyan, 10 percent magenta, 60 percent yellow and 10 percent
black.
 
Hey, practice writing a few bad ones and maybe you'll come up with a few
good ones!
 
His metaphors were so bad, that they actually became famous as toilet
paper became necessary!
 
I do not want to sign my name to this
Thank You! 
Old Blind Mike

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All The Best And More,
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