Creative Writing, Anyone?
I wandered, lonely as…. lonely as a sadsack with halitosis and a personality disorder? No, that doesn’t work. Back to the pencil chewing.
Let’s talk about similes. I’ve discovered that I have, if not an allergy certainly a sub-clinical sensitivity to them. Dog dander, sulphites, and now similes. The sulphites are a particular burden because I love pickled onions and Mavrodaphne wine. Although not in the same mouthful.
Similes are much harder to avoid. If you read fiction – I try not to but sometimes you just gotta – they’re all over the place like…. like pictures of people called Kardashian.
Maybe you like similes. Here are a few beauts for you.
The reading lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
Her embrace made his manhood swell like roadkill on hot tarmac.
Her skirt rustled like a cockroach in a sugar bowl.
Actually, that last one’s not bad. Nevertheless my attitude to similes remains, use sparingly and if you can’t trust yourself, don’t use them at all. Overdosing is easily done and then you’ve got similes raining down on you like…. like frozen passenger pee on a Heathrow flight path.
Am I oversensitive? Well I’m a creative type, dammit. I’m allowed to be.
Touchy as a Venus Flytrap on speed, that’s me.
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