You know you are overly tapped into metaphors when you:
1. Manage to send the roll of Aluminium foil tumbling to the floor, its tail still attached to the serrated edge so that twenty feet unravel from the cardboard.
2. In the process of rewrapping, realize this represents you: silver-colored, coated in dog hair, unable to stuff yourself into the container which held you until very recently.
3. Leave the mess on the counter while you jot down your observations.
I figured out my book’s antagonist.
As I said to a group of writing buds, I keep thinking I’ve killed this manuscript and then it coughs up another gift. It is a zombie-cat-manuscript, and I luff it greatly.
To clarify, there is conflict on the page and my heroine is being tested; but for reasons known only to them, the antagonist chose to operate anonymously even to me, until last night.
Yes, he’s a Kleenex box. We found him on our recent trip to the mountains and bought him, though he was not EXACTLY representative of the local topography. After all, his provenance is more Easter Island than Canadian Rocky Mountain.
Do you find him tasteless? Humorous? Both?
Would you buy him and if you did, would he be relegated to the guest or master bathroom?
One guess where he resides in our home…