Back in September, I published Emotional Beats: How to Easily Convert your Writing into Palpable Feelings. As promised, I will be posting the book on my blog. So, here is the next installment, starting Part 3 of the book: Other Beats. As this is a rather long section, I’ve broken it into two posts.
Analogies, Metaphors, and Similes (Part 2)
A good analogy is harder to find than… erm… well, it’s pretty hard. Unless you have these to help:
- Ideas bounced inside his head like tiny rubber balls.
- He chewed on some idea or other, gnawing away as if they there were seeds or pulp.
- He hemmed and hawed, shuffled his feet like a petulant schoolboy who doesn’t want to confess a wrong deed.
- He sifted words like sand, trying to lessen a blow he never meant to administer.
- She could see the string dangling from his thoughts like a kite caught in a tree.
- Her nose went all wrinkled as if she had caught whiff of a raccoon long dead.
- His words hummed inside her head like a nest of angry hornets some fool poked with a stick.
- She swallowed courage by the glassful, letting the words slip through her lips.
- Her voice rang like a pealing church bell announcing the second coming.
- His eyes went wide and bright, as if in competition with the low-hanging moon.
- She didn’t know if she’d call fear, that sharp taste at the back of her throat, but his words swooped down on her like angry swallows coveting a barn.
- He dropped to the ground like a lead mannequin.
- Her hands were as cold as a hot-water bag in the morning.
- The stone was as cold as the drifting snow.
- Her belly was as cold as if she had swallowed snowballs.
- Her lips were as cold as the night winds.
- She floated onto the street like a ballerina on her big debut.
- He waved off her words like they were mosquitoes.
- Her gaze hit the floor like a dropped quarter.
- A rip along the bottom of her bag called to mind some battlefield casualty, like a veteran’s scar.
- He grinned like that ancient serpent, tricking foolish Eve all over again.
- He crept across the threshold like a mangy old mutt scrounging for the crumbs of yesterday’s supper.
- Liking her came as easy as sipping iced tea on a lazy August afternoon.
- Denials leaped from my tongue like watermelon seeds bent on winning a distance contest. But the words bumped one into another, falling into a pile at my feet.
- His cheeks pinked up real nice, like a schoolgirl’s.
- Smoke swirled up like a charmed snake from his pipe.
- Angry words buzzed through the room like hornets threatening with their barbed stingers those evicting them from their nest.
- She stood bare before him, a new Eve; a female Cain.
- She spun hard on me like a top that’s lost its center.
- His greed came awful heavy, like a wet wool blanket suffocating, snuffing out the light.
- My words fell dead and brittle like oak leaves in fall.
- His gaze took hold of her, searched her body up and down like she’d only just now appeared from the ether; a dream or a specter looking for something solid to rest upon.
- Secrets swirled around us like spirits of the dead looking in on sins of the living.
- Second thoughts poked and jabbed at him like a sharp stick.
- Long shadows like dirty fingers reached out from between darkened houses forever empty.
- Fear swallowed whole the curiosity I’d foolishly dared sport with.
- A familiar recollection filled the void in my head, spinning memories of…
- His voice came as soft as his brown-eyed gaze.
- He spewed demands as thick as black smoke.
- The little house sported airs of a petulant child demanding a treat despite its naughty doings.
- She rose like a hornet got her on the backside.
- A grin curled around her full lips like a lazy cat settling in a puddle of midday sunshine.
- They drifted inside the house like flotsam wandering away from the actual wreck.
- Nobody could snatch that smile from her lips.
- The darkening sky rumbled like an empty stomach.
- Her gaze sifted him like a handful of loose pebbles.
- He knitted wisdom to logic and strung a fine bunch of words together; lines carrying enough sway to spring a condemned soul from a death owed.
- A bead of sweat like a lover’s fingertip traced her spine beneath her blouse.
- Like a benevolent specter from the netherworld, he eased back into the inky black.
- Like a perfect ballerina, she pulled lazy pirouettes behind the true bones of his discontent.
- She drifted toward him like smoke.
- Footsteps in the stairs outside yanked her from the dirty little smudge of her naughty daydream.
- Her dress graced the floor with a pale blue splash like fallen sky. Discarded underpants conjured visions of puffy white clouds.
- He grinned at her like the devil grinned at Eve.
- His grin washed away like chalk drawings in a spring rain.
- Like quiet smoke, her body settled into the narrow scrap of space of the bathtub.
- A jumble of protests meant to plead his innocence came loose from my lips and fell to the floor, scattering into nothing worthwhile.
- Her silence pricked the sticky air and made it bleed.
- Silence sprinkled the room with its ancient dust.
- Silence, heavy as baled cotton, fell in around them, blotting out the happenings on the street.
- Her tongue went dry as toast; her tone cracked against the quiet air.
- He was as nosy as a heated tomcat.
- Suspicion turned the sticky air fearful.
- Lines of smoke swirled from his nostrils like dizzy snakes.
- Smoke, like twin phantom snakes, curled lazily from his nose. Demons they were, peeking through for a curious gawk at what lay ahead of her.
- Inky black butterflies gathered along the edges of her sight, whispering threats of putting out what little light remained.
- His words came out delicate, an easy saying wrapped in a whisper.
- Her words fell out a frantic mess, like frenzied bees shook loose of their hive.
- Her eyelids gave a flutter like brand new butterfly wings hoping for flight. She fixed on him through a lazy squint.
- His brow furrowed as if ideas bumped headlong into his mind.
- The words lingered in the space between them like the stench of something gone rancid in the heat.
- The name came sour against her tongue, sharp and jagged. She spoke it aloud and cringed at the taste.
- Hushed voices conspired like conniving schoolboys behind the thin door.
- His point jabbed me like the sharp end of a stick.
- The building was designed with a sort of enclosing roof, a Noah’s Ark on stilts, offering the added advantage it would forever be beyond the reach of floods.
Next week: Chairs, windows, and furniture. View all posts on the subject, or buy the book on Amazon – free on KU!
You do these so well! I wish I could come up with some half-as-good!
Aw, you – thanks, but so few of these are mine. Most, I’ve copied from far more talented people than me. Just them like I do, and no one will be the wiser 😉
I might, thanks. Sometimes my brain just doesn’t want to be inspired to come up with these nuggets, lol.
An impressive collection! 🙂
Thank you! I always worry you guys will be sick of these by now 🙂
Nope … and you never know when someone new to this game of ours is lurking and taking copious notes. 🙂
I hope they do!
I look forward to your post. The ones on writing are always informative and I find something I can use. This one is a great example for , “Show, Don’t Tell”. Thank you for sharing great information.
Thank you so much, Chuck! I always worry people will groan something like, “not another one of his emotional beats posts” 😀
More goodies – YAAY! Thank you!
Bless you 😀
I have never caught a whiff of a raccoon, long dead. Not even that of a live one, for that matter.
But my nose has wrinkled more than once at the smells coming from my dog, Ollie.
Great tips as always, and as generous as ever.
best wishes, Pete.
Sometimes when I wake up it feels like there’s a raccoon in my mouth. Apart from that, I’m with you 😀
Thanks, Nicholas, for this 2nd Part of this section of your emotional beats. These are great. 🙂 — Suzanne
Yay! Thank you 😀