Metaphors be with you

Given where I fall in the writing game, I always feel rather pretentious when I blog on the art and craft of writing, but here goes.

Polonius, in Shakespeare’s play Hamlet said “since brevity is the soul of wit and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes”.  Some people, invoking that, suggest that writing should be as brief as possible, trimmed to the bare bones, told in the fewest words that gets the idea across.

Polonius, however, was a stupid old bore.

The true goal in writing is not brevity, but vividness. How clearly, how vividly one paints the picture in the readers mind.  This is how you get immersion and reader involvement in the story.

And one of the great tools to achieve that is the well-crafted metaphor (and I’ll include simile here as well).  Note what I did above.  I used several standard metaphors as a form of emphasis:  “bare bones”, “paint the picture,” even “immersion”.  And in the Shakespeare quote as well. “soul, “limbs and outward flourishes.”

Or consider another use by Shakespeare in The Scottish Play.  After Macbeth murders the king and then frames and murders the two guards he could have said:

“I feel very guilty about these murders”.

Brief and says what he feels, but not vivid.  Consider instead:

“What hands are here? Ha! They pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.”

More wordy certainly, but far far more vivid.  We aren’t just told that MacBeth feels guilt for his actions, we see it.  We feel it.  And when Shakespeare wants to echo it again with Lady MacBeth’s own guilt, why it is simplicity itself with:

“Yet here’s a spot.”
“Out, damned spot! Out, I say!”

We don’t have to wait until she references blood a few lines later to know that the spot on her hand is blood.  We’re already primed by the previous metaphor.

Of course in the modern age we are so used to the idea of “bloody hands” is such a common metaphor that we don’t need to be primed for its use.  But even so, the echoing of themes and ideas, including the use of metaphor, through the play strengthens the vividness of the story.

When you write, the challenge is to put the picture that you have in your head in all its glory down onto the page using words.  And that can be a monumental challenge.  To use another metaphor by another poet “All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind” (Khalil Gibran).  But with good use of metaphor, as well as other tools one can help other people’s minds experience that “feast.”

One place I often go for inspiration when it comes to metaphor is music.  Music is very much about feelings and, so often makes intensive use of metaphor.  One of my favorites is Feint, by Epica:

The whole song is practically one metaphor after another building on an emotional theme to the climax:

“This black page in history
is not colorfast will stain the next
all that remains is just a feint of what was meant to be.
This black page in history
is not colorfast will stain the next
and nothing seems, in life and dreams like what is meant to be”

And so we poignantly are shown that the events referenced in the song don’t just affect now, but echo into the future, turning the world upside down.  Now, I don’t know anything about the person this song is in homage to.  I don’t know if I’d agree with the positions expressed or not.  I’ve never really bothered to look into that.  It’s the emotional content of the song to which I’m referring here, and its very vivid use of metaphor to create that emotional content.

Of course, there can be bad metaphors too that kill the imagery and throw one out of the story.  Some examples from student papers:

  • His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
  • She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just
    before it throws up.
  • The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
    them in hot grease. (I don’t want to know how the author knows that.)
  • He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East

Well, you get the idea.  A bad metaphor can destroy a piece of writing even more easily than a good metaphor can beautify it.  Either way, the metaphor is a powerful tool.

So go, use metaphor, paint your world in vivid colors, light and dark.

And in the meantime, you might enjoy this story:

A young mother hears the Norns. They tell her of terrible things to come. When Ulfarr wants her gift of prophesy to serve him, he takes her and steals away her children. Can the young mother escape from Ulfarr’s clutches and save her children from him? Only the Norns know.

Click on the cover image to get the book

Feeding the Active Writer: Low Carb Skillet Pizza

First one of these since moving from my old blog.

When I went low-carb a lot of my old favorite foods went off the table.  One of them was Pizza.  The issue ha always been what to use as the crust?  Well, here’s one.

First, preheat a skillet or griddle over medium high heat.  I love well-seasoned cast iron for this.


  • 1 1/2 cups grated white/Italian cheeses.  I use the bagged shredded stuff, usually the “5 cheese Italian” but feel free to grate your own if you want.  Just make sure you have some softer cheese that melts well in there.  Straight Parmesan probably would not work
  • 2 Tbsp or so of low-carb marinara (recipe below)
  • A bit more of the grated cheese
  • Your choice of toppings.  I like a virtual solid layer of sliced pepperoni.

Spread the 1 1/2 cups of cheese in a thick disk on the skillet/griddle

Let the cheese cook.  It will first melt, then toast.  As it starts to toast, the disk will start to look less melty and more solid.

Check it from time to time, attempting to slide a thin, flexible spatula under the disk of toasting cheese.  When you can completely slide the spatula under the cheese all the way around and to the center without causing the cheese to crumple up (if it starts to while you’re testing stop and use the edge of the spatula on the top to try to stretch it back out.  Come back a bit later to try again) it’s ready to top.

Spread the marinara over the top of the disk of toasted cheese.  There may be pinholes through the cheese caused by bubbling during the cooking process.  Some of the marinara will drip through these holes and sizzle against the pan.  This is fine and won’t harm anything.

Spread a little bit of the extra cheese over the marinara.  You don’t need much, not with a crust of toasted cheese.  This cheese is basically used as a glue to hold the top of the pizza together and keep the toppings in place.  Of course if you like a lot of cheese then knock yourself out.  It’s your pizza.  Make it like you want it.

Add your other toppings, whatever you  like on pizza, as much as you like.

It can help to sprinkle a bit more cheese over the top, again as a glue to hold things together.

Let it continue to cook a few more minutes, until the cheese you’ve just added is at least mostly melted.

Now comes the tricky part, transfering the pizza out of the pan to a cutting board or plate.  I have a frying pan and not a griddle so the raised rim makes it difficult.  What I usually do is use a large, thin, flexible spatula to lift one edge, slide a plate under that edge, and then work my way across lifting with the spatula and edging the plate under it.  Sometimes this doesn’t work and the pizza crumples together.  In that case I just flip the ends into the middle and call it a calzone.  Still tastes as good.

The end result should look something like this:

20170409_203859 web

Serves…Aw, who am I kidding.  You’re going to eat the whole thing, aren’t you?



Edit:  Ack!  I’d forgotten the Marinara recipe.  Oh well, it’s easy enough:


  • 28 oz. can of crushed tomatoes (shop around to find the ones with the lowest sugar content–this will be the big problem for us low-carb types)
  • 1/4 tsp black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 1 tsp onion powder
  • 2 tbsp garlic powder (what can I say?  I like garlic)
  • 1 tsp dried basil
  • 1 tsp dried oregano
  • 1 tsp dried parsley flakes
  • 2 tbsp red wine vinegar (or red wine if you prefer)
  • 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil


Add all the ingredients into a blender.

Mix on low until smooth

Store in the refrigerator in an airtight jar until use.

Really.  That’s it.



Today should be a national holiday, a big one.

I’m not kidding.

Back in the 1770’s unrest was growing in the American colonies, at least those along the Atlantic Seaboard from New Hampshire down through Georgia.  Protests over taxes imposed without the taxed having any voice in the matter, complaints about a distant monarch and legislative body making rules and laws over people to whom they are not beholden.

There had been clashes which fed that unrest, including the famous “Boston Massacre” where British troops fired into a rioting mob resulting in several deaths.  Think of it as the Kent State of the 18th century.

In an effort to quell the unrest, or at least have it be less of a threat to British officials, General Thomas Gage, Military governor of Massachusetts, under orders to take decisive action against the colonists, decided to confiscate firearms and ammunition from certain groups in the colony.  His forces marched on the night of April 18, 1775.

The colonists, forewarned of the action (the Longfellow poem, which children learn in school–or they did when I was in school–is historically inaccurate, but it sure is stirring, isn’t it?), first met the British troops at Lexington Massachusetts where John Parker, in command of the local Colonial Militia said, according to the recollection of one of the participants, “Stand your ground.  Don’t fire unless fired upon.  But if they mean to have a war, let it begin here.”

Whether Parker actually said those words, the first shot was fired.  No one knew who fired it, whether British or Colonial.  In the ensuing, brief battle the British regulars put the Colonial militia to flight.

The British then turned toward Concord.

A small unit of militia, hearing reports of firing at Lexington marched out but on spotting a British unit of about 700 while themselves only numbering about 250 they returned to Concord.  The Colonial militia departed the town across the North Bridge to a hill about a mile north of town where additional militia reinforcements continued to gather.

The British reached the town and began searching for the weapons they came to confiscate.  They found several cannon, too large to be moved quickly, and disabled them.  Other weapons and supplies had been either removed or hidden.

On seeing the smoke of the burning carriages from the cannon, the Militia began to move.  It is not my purpose here to go into detailed description of their movements but in the end the British regulars found themselves both outnumbered and outmaneuvered.  They fled, a rout that surprised the Colonial Militia as much as the British regulars.  Again, I simplify but in the end they marched back to Boston continuing to suffer casualties from what amounted to 18th century sniper fire from the surrounding brush.  The frustration of the British soldiers led them to atrocities, killing everyone they found in buildings whether they were involved in the fighting or not.

Eventually the British forces fought their way back to Boston where they were besieged by Militia forces numbering over 15000 men.

And the Revolutionary War had begun.

And so, on this day in 1775, the nascent United States took the course that would lead eventually to Independence.

And that’s why April 19 deserves to be a National Holiday on a par at least with Independence Day.  The latter was recognition of what became fact on the former.

“Rainy Days and Moon Days” available for sale.

It was a bad day on the moon:

“Sea of Rains, huh,” Jeff Brannock said as the outer airlock door opened. “Maybe if it’s raining dust.”

“Crewman Brannock, what was that?”

Jeff winced. “Sorry.  Personal comment, not intended for broadcast.”

“Sure, kid,” the voice from EVA Ops said. “Please maintain comm discipline.”

Jeff tilted his head forward and thrust his chin out to work the transmitter switch in his helmet.  Once he heard it click into the “off” position he said, “Sure, whatever.”

A rack outside the lock held the discharge brushes he used for cleaning dust from the solar panels, Jeff’s after-school job.  Another held handle extensions.  Jeff grabbed three extensions and shoved them into the thigh pocket of his suit.  He took one of the brushes and set off in the direction of his assignment.

His long, loping strides, a technique called a “moon trot” carried him around a stack of air return pipes, big half-meter diameter ferrocement tubes, for the next stage of expansion of the construction station.  He rounded it and paused while he looked ahead to spot the section of solar panel that was his goal.

In the vacuum of the moon he did not hear the strap break.  His first warning was the stack of pipes shifting a moment before it began to collapse.  For a moment, Jeff froze, then he turned and ran.

At least, that was his intention.  He pushed a little too hard and his foot slid out from under him.  He landed on one knee, preparing to spring to his feet and continue but the lowest of the pipes, squirted out by the weight of those on top of it, caught him in the small of the back and knocked him to the ground.  His head snapped forward as he hit the ground, pain bursting through his nose as it struck the faceplate of his helmet.  For an instant, he saw red spattered on that faceplate before the falling weight pinned him face-down into the regolith, leaving him in blackness.  The pipes slammed repeatedly into his back as the stack continued its slow collapse.

Click on the cover image to get the book.