You ever have one of those morning where everything just falls into place? I don't think I've ever had one of those... what's it like?
I'm currently having issues with bully kids who wait with my son at the school bus stop. Not only are they mean to him--daily--but they're so mean to this other girl--daily--that she was in tears today. I'd seen enough. I got firmly vocal with them. And you know what? The little shits didn't even bat an eyelash. Excuse my language but how do these kids--the oldest one is only in 5th grade; they're kids!--get off thinking they can act like that in front of an adult? Or
at all! They saw the girl crying and the instigator (there's always one that stands out and the rest of them just go along with it) was still yelling at her from across the driveway.
That's when I snapped at him. If his mother had been there, none of it would have happened. But she wasn't there today and he saw that as a green light to spout off all the things he hated about this girl. Now, if the girl really was an idiot, like he claimed, I might have just told him to lay off and end it at that. But I've been waiting for the bus with these kids for three weeks now, and I've never seen her do anything to warrant such hatred.
It's pure hate. It emanates from him like steam on a cold day. At first I felt sorry for this kid because he'd recently been diagnosed with bipolar (and boy do I know a thing or two about that), but having bipolar does not excuse such wrong behavior. My son has PDD. Part of that disorder includes acting out physically--sometimes violently--when he can't control his emotions. I have bruises to prove it. So do I just let him do that with no consequences? Absolutely not.
He's never done that to other kids, though, just big bad mom (because I set boundaries and enforce rules). Among these kids, my son's only crime is that he has a social disorder and doesn't always understand what's being said to him. Apparently that means you're an outcast of the worst kind. Like he's got something they might catch if they get too close.
Okay, so what's the point of my rant today? Three things.
1) I needed to vent because I'm at my breaking point with these kids. If it continues, I'm going to have to talk to the parents and/or request my son be on a different bus schedule. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that day in and day out.
2) This is one of those things that has the potential to be a great story idea. Sorry but my writerly brain does not have an off switch. While I'm glaring at these kids, in the back of my head I hear, "This would make a great scene in a MG novel! Just bump up the ages and make it all
unbelievably worse. Don't pass up the opportunity!"
Shut up, muse. I've got too many other projects I'm working on now.
3) Comparisons should be relevant and create a vividly clear image in the reader's head.
Break! What comparisons? Are we talking about writing now? Yes. Yes, we are. My apologies for taking forever to get to the point.
First, when I say "avoid cliche' like you would lumps in your milk", I mean it. Nothing gets me to do a classic teenage eye roll quicker than reading a cliche'.
Cliches often crop up when the author is trying to make a comparison. Comparisons are easy to spot. They are usually presented with the words "like", "than", or "as".
For example, "avoid cliche' like you would lumps in your milk." The key word for the comparison is "avoid." To make the comparison your own, find its relevance. (I know this isn't the first time I've used this phrase, but I have yet to see someone else use it, so I'm claiming it as mine.) To make my point clear, I had to choose a comparison for "avoiding cliche'" that would garner
a universal reaction from whoever reads it.
What do you do when you discover lumps in your milk? If you're me, you scream, toss the whole carton in the sink, wrap a towel around your face to act as an air filter, then powerwash the mess down the drain. If it's extra thick/lumpy, you flush it. And that makes me want to gag just thinking about it because I have a vomit phobia, and anything that looks or sounds or smells like vomit in the toilet will make me retch.
I'm pretty sure no one wants to pour themselves a nice cold glass of milk and hear
plops. So the comparison works.
Now, going back to my rant above, I'm going to pull out a couple of the comparisons I used.
1)
It's pure hate. It emanates from him like steam on a cold day.
When you think of an emotion such as hate, you usually associate it with heat, right? So something that is hot will give off steam in a cooler atmosphere. It's a universal comparison because it's so basic. Even a child will understand it, and yet it has just as much impact to an adult.
2)
Like he's got something they might catch if they get too close.
Again, very basic comparison to a contagious illness. Anyone who reads that will understand what it means, and will get why I'm so irritated with these kids because, obviously, you can't catch a mental disorder by standing near someone who has it.
Okay, so that was just an "angry mom" rant. What about in fiction? This is where you need to be extra careful and extra creative, especially in narrative.
For example, if a character says something in dialogue such as, "He's faster than a speeding bullet!" you can attribute that to the character just being a dork,
if it's part of their character. However, if I saw something like that in the narrative, I'd immediately strike it.
If you want to say something is fast, you should pretty much NEVER use the speeding bullet comparison. Instead, look at the details you already have going for you in the scene.
What is the genre?
If you're writing a science fiction story, create futuristic comparisons that fit what your story is about. Fantasy, rustic or magical, etc. A medical thriller, blood is a good comparison, so long as it fits. Keep in mind the elements of your unique story world, and go from there.
Example, from my fantasy novella
A Messenger's Oath:
Mensa felt her nostrils flare. "That is not your concern. None of this is your concern. Be on your way, Lovec of Soral, and let me be." She headed through the trees, searching for another suitable place to rest, however far she had to go to get away from him.
Footsteps shuffled the forest floor behind her. "I'm afraid I can't do that, messenger."
"Why?" His presence was more chafing than the leather between her thighs.
If this had been a contemporary or sci-fi story, the "chafing" comparison would have been worded differently.
What is the setting?
Again, using the example above, referencing a chafing from her leather pants fits because she is quickly moving away from him. This uncomfortable sensation is likely something in the front of Mensa's mind as the scene plays out, so it is appropriate for her to compare it to the uncomfortableness she's feeling regarding the other character.
Weather conditions can also be extremely helpful in creating unique and relevant comparisons.
Example, from my contemp YA novel,
Summer Hoax:
He answered me with a smile, his lashes still wet from tears. Lightning flashed. More thunder. The rain started out misty, then fell in sheets. Ben piggybacked me and sprinted as well as he could over the slick grass, but it was a long way back to the car. We looked like we'd gone swimming with our clothes on.
What I love about this one is that I could have easily just said, "We were completely drenched," but saying it differently, more vividly, makes it concrete in the reader's mind and therefore, memorable. What I also love about rain is that it's great as a mood creator. This snippet is taken from a scene at a cemetery, and in the beginning of the paragraph we see tears. Rain can be associated with sadness, as it was here, or with cleansing. And that's just one example. There are so many ways you can get creative with weather conditions.
What is happening in the scene?
When you take everything in your context and put it together, cliche' phrases will be the furthest thing from your mind. Immerse yourself in the details and actions of the scene.
Example, from my science fiction novel in progress,
Dead Star, Shine:
I pushed him away and dropped to the floor, sobbing. My severed hair covered the planks like an ebony rug.
"We have much to do, Mirra."
"Don't you dare touch me!" I clutched the cut strands at my chest as if they were a lost loved one to be grieved, remembering my mother's identical locks. She was to blame for this. All of it. If she had only accepted me for who I was I'd be dead along with her, in peace, and not enduring this torture, this shame upon all that I represented. "Just go away..."
The first comparison: she is sitting on a bare floor thickly covered in her own very long hair that had just been cut extremely short against her will. The second comparison: referencing her dead mother who had the same long black hair that symbolized her royalty. These both appropriately connect the events of the scene with her present emotional state.
Another example, from the same story:
"I believe you," I whispered.
He let out a sigh and I felt his energy subdue through the few points where his skin contacted mine, as if my words had flipped the switch on his generator. His new sense of calm relaxed me as well. The day had drained us both. Time to recharge.
In this story, Mirra and Nathym are able to feel each other's energy when they touch, similar to electrical sparks. No surprise, then, that I decided to reference a generator, and draining and recharging like a battery.
Using comparisons that are unique to your story and your characters, aka the un-cliche', is one of the best ways to keep a reader engaged from the first page to the last.
Happy writing!
~Lydia