Wendigisms
Tuesday October 25, 2011 | By Hieronymus Hawkes | Blogging
I’ve decided to keep track of my new favorite author’s metaphors/similes. The man is Chuck Wendig and I’m going to call these Wendigisms. The man is a prodigy when it comes to metaphor and creative use of the English language, the Maestro of Metaphor. I’ll be mining his metaphorical gold nuggets and keeping a list of my favorites. I’ll be mainlining those gold veins like a heroin junkie. That’s right, I’m addicted. I’m sure Chuck, er, the Maestro, could have created a better metaphor there; I am merely the keeper of the archive. He is a writer of many forms, and he pontificates over at Terribleminds. What … are you still here? I’ll wait…
This is by no means a complete list, in fact it barely scratches the mildewed linoleum surface, but I intend to keep adding more. These are posted here with his permission. I welcome your suggestions.
Here they are in no particular order:
- Built like a sagging brick wall, head like a melting lump of Play-Dough
- art-o-leptic fits of imagination
- squeeze out word-babies
- shoved deep into their colonic grotto*
- slower than a legless caterpillar rolling up a rocky knoll
- A gift basket of hookers
- wriggling free from a uterus made from fractal swirls
- count each pube on your story’s scrotum
- Spit ‘em out like broken teeth
- feel like he’s wearing a tuxedo made of bumblebees
- A hot fresh bucket of words
- we will now refer to lava as “earthjaculate”
- kicked in the junk drawer
- superheroically buoyant
- epic diaper-breach
- fleshy 3-D meatbags
- A burning nugget of possibility tumbling out of the bleak black nowhere
- high on your own stink, huffing your word-fumes
- a swirling hate vortex living in the space between your heart and your gut
- Fatigue nibbles at your marrow like an army of tiny chipmunks
- ejaculate your DNA into every cell of that story
- suicide shoes
- sky the color of a bruised cheek
- pinnacle of paroxysmic pleasure
- You need to master Manuscript Lovemaking 7
- Progress tastes like bacon
- Embrace the rewrite. From behind.
- It’s time to blast my six-shooters at the words and make those pesky f***ers dance
- You pull a mental hammy and s**t your brain-diapers
- work that was as pleasant as a dildo violation
- As if writing is a job on par with “unicorn tamer”
- Other days it feels like you’re birthing a lawn chair from your hindquarters
- create quantum entanglement between your butt and your chair so that you write
- right in the catcher’s mitt known as your “crotch.”
- a thimble full of mouse turds
- align their chakras and birth their story on a beam of light
- bleeding imagination juice on the page
- *poop noise*
Oh! Seeing these all together is fantastic. 🙂 Long overdue. Thanks!
Thanks Jami! I agree that it is long overdue, and I'm going to make a permanent page for this.
LOL, he does have a colorful way with words. Love this. Putting this in my weekly round up. 🙂
Hi Roni! I'm thrilled you stopped by and left a comment! He is definitely colorful. =)
Ohmigosh that's hysterical! I love Wendigisms. Thank you for gathering the words of the Great and Powerful Wendig. 😀
Thanks Sonia, it's something I've devoted my life to, and it's a worthy endeavor I think. I'm glad you came by and were gracious enough to leave a comment! =)