I’m taking a great writing course by Dave Wolverton (aka Dave Farland) called Writing Enchanting Prose. Last week’s assignment was to write metaphors and similes. Here they are! (All from SOF…)
Tom’s mind was a morgue for any evidence of the existence of magic—each thought died a scientifically violent death: murder, autopsy, and burial—just the way he liked it.
Alastair’s ale-brown pants were shredded, deep red lines coloring the torn fabric, as the thirsty thorns of the rosebush sought to collect on a blood debt for an earlier pruning.
The faerie was a chameleon, changing her tunic to fire-red to belong with her elemental clan, sparkly silver to belong with her elven hosts, and pine green to disappear from them all.
Transforming from mer-man to human, Nadish’s body heaved like the I-want-to-die-take-me-now flu before his lungs filled with their first ragged breath.
Fae took her exam paper and began writing as feverishly as if she were entering a battle fit for music from the Philharmonic Orchestra, right there in the stone-walled room of her charms class.
In distaste of the entirety of the race of dwarves, the hazel-eyed centaur glared, his chestnut leg stomped the ground, and his nostrils flared as if the odor of teenage tennis shoes had hit him. The jewelry resulting from dwarven alchemy applied to silver was like a unicorn—incredibly rare, pure beyond measure, and shimmering in its beauty.
In contrast to the usual sweet siren call to the early morning meal, this sound entered Fae’s mind like psychedelic disco lights and the thumping pulse of an alleyway bar.