This is for #writers, or for anyone interested in the whole process of writing. I want to talk about metaphors/similes. I will use the word “metaphor” throughout, because I don’t think that the distinction (similes are metaphors that use the words “like” or “as”) is an important one.
Writers and readers love good metaphors, because they show off just how imaginative we can be with language, and often offer beautiful examples of the craft of writing. They can be surprising, moving, funny, sad—in other words they can imbue a page or paragraph with a kind of emotional resonance that it might not have otherwise had.
By the way, if you want a technical/academic explanation of how metaphor works, I encourage you to Google the phrase “tenor and vehicle,” which sounds like a description of Pavarotti riding a motorcycle, but is actually how metaphors are constructed. My discussion here will be less academic, more writerly.
So, let’s take a very familiar metaphor from poet Robert Burns: “My love is like a red, red rose.” How is his love like a red rose? Well, what are roses like? Beautiful, blushing red, sweet smelling, romantic, organic, natural, blooming as they mature. All good things. But roses also have thorns, can be prickly, can hurt you, and eventually die. Not so good things. So this is a good metaphor because it’s layered and complex—it says that his love is a fully formed human being, and not just one thing. She has different moods, different looks, as we all do. It’s such a great metaphor that many people used some version of it, and it became a cliché, so no one can really use it any more. It wore out over time.
Or maybe you have said, “Life is a rollercoaster.” Life can be fun, thrilling, exciting, full of ups and downs. It can go slow or fast, it struggles up hills, it can scare you or make you sick.
Here are a few more from well-known writers:
· "In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars." –F. Scott Fitzgerald
· "He was as sensitive as a goddam toilet seat." –J.D. Salinger
· "Ahab’s soul was a volcano, and the peak glowed and the crater smoked." –Herman Melville (Notice he could have said “like a volcano,” but the difference is mostly a stylistic one.)
· "Dusk had come to the mountains like a sewing machine crawling over an operating table." –Fred Chappell
Every writer knows all of this, and every writer has his or her own favorite examples. But I want to talk specifically about when not to employ metaphor. But first let me point out two important truths about metaphors. First (this is one you might have learned in 8th grade), the comparison is between two things that are not alike. So if you write, “…the Ford truck was like a Chevy truck, except it said ‘Ford’ on the back,” that’s not only a terrible sentence, but it’s also not a metaphor. Ford trucks are like Chevy trucks (sorry Ford/Chevy disciples). So that sentence is just a simple comparison; it’s literal. My oldest and closest writing friend, Susan Perabo (you should definitely read her work if you haven’t) reminded me recently of a funny story from when we were in an MFA program together. She had written in a story, “The Ferris wheel stood there like a giant wheel in the sky,” and I commented, “It is a giant wheel in the sky.” Again, that’s literal, not metaphor. On the other hand, Ahab’s soul is not actually like a volcano—it doesn’t spew poisonous gasses or destroy towns with flaming lava. But a soul can be seething, fiery, hot tempered, explosive, etc. (and even that list contains metaphors). As a thought experiment, take a second inside your brain and figure out why the Salinger toilet seat metaphor works. What does he mean? Feel free to comment below.
The second thing to understand is that metaphors always “reach outside” to make a comparison. There is no actual toilet seat in the Salinger scene, no actual volcano in the Melville, no actual sewing machine or operating table in the Chappell scene. The writers send your brain outside the current scene to fetch an image of those things, then brings that image back inside the scene in order to make the comparison. Thus the jolt of surprise from a good metaphor—we come across something we didn’t expect to be there.
But this second thing is my main point today, and suggestive of times in your writing when you should avoid metaphors.
Imagine you have written a scene that really ratchets up the tension—maybe it’s a lovers’ quarrel, or your main character is being robbed at gun point, or involved in a car crash. Maybe it’s something quieter, but still tense—your MC is deciding to end her marriage, for example. In all of these, if you have done your job, your readers are on the edge of their seats.
Then in that case, you should avoid metaphors. None, zero.
Why?
Because we, your readers, are right there with you, inside that scene. We are hanging on the next word, the next movement, the next gesture. Is the robber going to pull the trigger? Are they going to break up?
This is exactly the wrong time to send us outside the scene, and as I mentioned above every metaphor necessarily does that. Imagine a real-life scenario: your favorite team is playing in the Super Bowl or World Series, and they are down by one point…there is one minute or one out left. Then your doorbell rings and you have to go talk to FedEx on your porch and sign for a package. Do you see? FedEx just pulled you out of all that delicious tension. They ruined the moment. They popped your balloon.
Don’t do that to your readers. Don’t send their brains outside the tense scene to sign for a volcano or a toilet seat or a sewing machine. Stay inside the scene, and you will keep your reader there, right where you want them.
So when should you use them? When things are more relaxed. When you can indulge yourself as a writer a little bit. Take note, Fred Chappell is just describing the scenery where his story is set (that’s not all he’s doing but enough to note for now). Salinger is taking a step back to let his character reflect. Fitzgerald, also taking a step back to set the scene.
So, save your metaphors for these times, when you are setting the scene, describing a place, putting scenery in place, describing a character—any time you are “stepping back” from the tension, and the writing dips into what I call a “necessary lull.”
Of course, as with any “rule” of writing, there are a million exceptions that might be cited. But try this, especially if you find yourself writing scenes that are meant to be tense but somehow run out of steam.
And I just ended on another (worn-out) metaphor.
I will be posting more #writingtips in the future.
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