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IBIS
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Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

The writing of SOUL CATCHER is incisive and crystal clear. The weather and the landscape through which Cain journeys felt very real to me; I actually felt drenched in the rain and in the river scenes; here are some of my favorite descriptions:

The weather is described so vividly:

(p. 39) "Though it was April now, a cold rain with bits of snow and ice fell all day, and low gray clouds hung just above the treetops, making it seem as if a huge piece of sky had broken off and fallen on them."

(p. 41) "The next morning, the rain had stopped, though the sky had remained overcast and gray as a pair of old socks."

(p.45) "It had started to rain again, a fine gray mist that fell out of the low sky like sifted flour."

The landscape are painted on the page:

(p.65) "By late afternoon, shafts of bold sunlight had torn through the ragged cloud cover and swept over the earth like God's own hand claiming possession."

(p.86) "For the first time they could see the tops of the mountains, which looked to them like arrows of ice piercing the heavens."

"And the pastureland was strewn with rocks and sapling trees and thistle, which could cut the bag of a milk cow."
IBIS

"I am a part of everything that I have read."
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kiakar
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes



IBIS wrote:
The writing of SOUL CATCHER is incisive and crystal clear. The weather and the landscape through which Cain journeys felt very real to me; I actually felt drenched in the rain and in the river scenes; here are some of my favorite descriptions:

The weather is described so vividly:

(p. 39) "Though it was April now, a cold rain with bits of snow and ice fell all day, and low gray clouds hung just above the treetops, making it seem as if a huge piece of sky had broken off and fallen on them."

(p. 41) "The next morning, the rain had stopped, though the sky had remained overcast and gray as a pair of old socks."

(p.45) "It had started to rain again, a fine gray mist that fell out of the low sky like sifted flour."

The landscape are painted on the page:

(p.65) "By late afternoon, shafts of bold sunlight had torn through the ragged cloud cover and swept over the earth like God's own hand claiming possession."

(p.86) "For the first time they could see the tops of the mountains, which looked to them like arrows of ice piercing the heavens."

"And the pastureland was strewn with rocks and sapling trees and thistle, which could cut the bag of a milk cow."




You are right IBIS; I could definitely feel the cold, feel the briskness of a cold morning when everything is so sobering with the break of day, feeling the coldness...
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ENG267
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

I agree, IBIS. The writing drew me in so that I felt myself take every step of that journey with Cain, Rosetta, et al.

Some of my other favorites include:

p. 187: "The old woman's frizzy hair caught the sunlight and glowed like a dandelion seed on fire."

p. 247: "Cain looked out the open barn door to see that the rain had finally stopped, and that sun had broken partially through and was spilling weakly onto the muddy earth, pale as goat milk."

p. 320: "He stood staring down into the creek, which was clear and sandy bottomed, with minnows darting about like thoughts in an addled brain." (I think I like this one best.)

p. 348: "He could feel something faint but sure, a kind of insistent murmur like the beating of a spring rain on a roof."

p. 380: "The rain had let up, though the day was gray and overcast, with raggedy clouds strewn about the valleys and hollows like cotton batting."

p. 388: "The river's dark surface gleamed in the moonlight like a piece of polished onyx."

p. 394: "The night was pleasant and clear, with a nearly full waxing moon hanging above like the eye of a cat."

p. 406: "The darkness had leached out of the night, leaving behind a chalky blue like the light in a dream."


And some of the images I was taken by include:

p. 290: "It was still dark, but dawn was pushing up against the night. [Cain] could tell by the way things were getting edges, separating themselves from the anonymity of night."

p. 398: "He was silent for a moment, letting the dust of his thoughts settle."

There are others, but I may be getting into spoiler territory here....
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IBIS
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

ENG, I definitely love the ones you've highlighted too.

I hope other readers will post favorites that have caught their fancy.
IBIS

"I am a part of everything that I have read."
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ENG267
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

I hope so, too, IBIS. Thanks for adding this thread.
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Fozzie
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

Here are my favorites:

“Hatless, his blond head looked small and unformed, vulnerable as the head of a baby bird.” (pg. 146) And I thought to myself, Preacher doesn’t look so tough now, does he?

“Cain could see that the little fellow was your typical traveling charlatan, a garrulous blatherskite, as noisy as a magpie and just as bothersome.” (pgs. 230-1)

“He opened his eyes and sat up, his head feeling soft and runny, like an undercooked egg.” (pg. 266)

“In them was a smug look, that of someone holding a pair of aces to your jacks and just waiting for you to bid into his hand.” (pg. 274)

“…he knew the plain truth was often as slippery as an eel, and as likely to bite you.” (pg. 332)

And my favorite, by far…

“Good reviews are like a wonderful kiss from a beautiful woman. You love it and want more. For me, it makes me want to write an even better novel next time. It motivates me rather than intimidates.” (Welcome From the Author, B&N on-line)
Laura

Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.
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IBIS
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

Laura, yes, these are marvelous! I love them all!
I have another list somewhere,probably with all the napkins that I scribbled them on.

IBIS
IBIS

"I am a part of everything that I have read."
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ENG267
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

Indeed, these are wonderful, too. Safe to say Michael has metaphors and similes down to a science. Like you, IBIS, I have a bunch more, but mine are scribbled on many tiny Post-Its....
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Wrighty
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes


ENG267 wrote:
Indeed, these are wonderful, too. Safe to say Michael has metaphors and similes down to a science. Like you, IBIS, I have a bunch more, but mine are scribbled on many tiny Post-Its....



This is a great thread! I'll have to add to it when I get a chance. The lists can go on and on because Michael did an excellent job. The descriptions were amazing and I could picture everything so clearly.
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IBIS
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

I found my pile of napkins with more metaphors and similes that I enjoyed reading. My apologies if you've already read them in previous posts:

(p.49) The fine rain barely wrinkled the water’s skin. He saw reflected overhead the gray vault of sky like a vast coffin lid.

(p.51) Squatting on his haunches like some demented gargoyle, Preached looked back over his shoulder at Cain and grinned mischieviously.

(p.85) A sharp sweet pain started just behind his breastbone and worked its way up into his mouth and pulsated there like a toothache.

(p.90) All the tree trunks in the area were scorched and naked, sticking up out of the ground like blackened fingers.

(p.101) As they crossed (Lake Champlain), they had to make their way past huge ice floes that lay submerged in the water like enormous whales.

(p.103) One was younger and gaunt, with a long scrofulous neck, the other older with a thick paunch and a wispy gray beard that hung from his face like Spanish moss

(p.109) Women walked along holding up the hems of their skirts, and everyone was pale and had the pinched look of someone with constipation.

(p.109) The man had orange-red hair and big scablike freckles all over his face, and the dull satiated grin of someone either feebleminded or just having eaten too much.

(p.110) Looking out, he removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose, his whole body convulsing with the effort, as if he were trying to hurt himself.

(p.117) A gaudy silver moon hung over the street like a great eyeball, white and ragged, staring down at him, with little gray veins etching its surface.

(p.125) She was an ancient crone, bent backed and toothless, her face as parched and furrowed as the arroyos that surrounded her.

(p.143) From where they sat atop the hill, they could see in the distance the ocean, whose sound came to them muffled, like the breath of an old man sleeping.

(p.182) And everywhere they confronted the ubiquitous New England stone wall, which seemed to Cain, at least, like a labyrinth designed by these blasted Yankees to trap them and prevent them from ever returning home.

(p.187) The old woman’s frizzy hair caught the sunlight and glowed like a dandelion seed on fire.

(p.289) ... he could see the night sky filled with stars, scattered like grains of salt over a black tabletop. They appeared so low he felt he could almost reach out and pick them up, put the salty particles on this tongue.

(p.200) The day turned warm and humid, a gummy haze hanging in the air and coating their bodies like a drunkard’s sweat.
IBIS

"I am a part of everything that I have read."
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Fozzie
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes


IBIS wrote:
(p.51) Squatting on his haunches like some demented gargoyle, Preached looked back over his shoulder at Cain and grinned mischieviously.

(p. 90) All the tree trunks in the area were scorched and naked, sticking up out of the ground like blackened fingers.

(p.143) From where they sat atop the hill, they could see in the distance the ocean, whose sound came to them muffled, like the breath of an old man sleeping.

(p.182) And everywhere they confronted the ubiquitous New England stone wall, which seemed to Cain, at least, like a labyrinth designed by these blasted Yankees to trap them and prevent them from ever returning home.

(p.289) ... he could see the night sky filled with stars, scattered like grains of salt over a black tabletop. They appeared so low he felt he could almost reach out and pick them up, put the salty particles on this tongue.





I remember all these images too. Just too many to choose from to list them all!
Laura

Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.
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MichaelCWhite
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes

Right now I have a big and dopey smile on my face from hearing that you liked my prose. You've all made my day much brigther.
Thank you.

Michael


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Wrighty
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Re: Marvelous Metaphors and Splendid Similes


Fozzie wrote:

IBIS wrote:
(p.51) Squatting on his haunches like some demented gargoyle, Preached looked back over his shoulder at Cain and grinned mischieviously.

(p. 90) All the tree trunks in the area were scorched and naked, sticking up out of the ground like blackened fingers.

(p.143) From where they sat atop the hill, they could see in the distance the ocean, whose sound came to them muffled, like the breath of an old man sleeping.

(p.182) And everywhere they confronted the ubiquitous New England stone wall, which seemed to Cain, at least, like a labyrinth designed by these blasted Yankees to trap them and prevent them from ever returning home.

(p.289) ... he could see the night sky filled with stars, scattered like grains of salt over a black tabletop. They appeared so low he felt he could almost reach out and pick them up, put the salty particles on this tongue.





I remember all these images too. Just too many to choose from to list them all!



You're right there are too many! Reading all of these listed does bring it all back. The descriptions are so perfect and create vivid images for me.
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