Anatomy of a Metaphor

Understanding how to use different types of figurative language in your prose (for authors who aspire to write more lyrical prose)

Hello, authors!👋

I'm Orē, and in this post I'm gonna teach you how to, 

1. deconstruct the mechanics of figurative language. 

2. understand the difference between metaphors and similes and why that matters to your writing. 

3. understand the different types of metaphoric language so you know how and when to use them in your prose.

   
   

WARNING: This is a pretty nerdy article lol. Read to the end for a free gift!

Before we start, keep in mind that comparisons in fiction always create an intellectual reaction in a reader's mind.

When you say one element corresponds to another, you automatically shift attention from the action on the page to a conceptual image.

This shift might be subtle or glaring depending on how good the metaphor is, how incongruent, how understated, etc. 

Anyways, the point is that this tiny process alters the pacing and emotional weight of a sentence, so if you'd love to write lyrical and poetic prose, understanding how to construct these comparisons is essential, and that requires analyzing the mechanical parts that make them work.

The Core Components of Figurative Language

A metaphor relies on three specific elements to transfer meaning across ideas. There's a literary theorist (I. A. Richards) who broke this down into 3 categories. 

1. The Tenor: This is the subject of your sentence, the real-world element existing inside your story, such as a character's grief, a rusty car, or a cold morning.

2. The Vehicle: The figurative image we're borrowing to describe the subject. It's the external object or concept imported into the text to offer a visual or sensory reference point.

3. The Ground: The precise point of overlap between your subject and the borrowed figurative image. This shared characteristic is what allows a reader's brain to connect both ideas.

If a character stands in a crowded room and feels isolated, that isolation represents the tenor. 

If you compare that isolation to an island, the island serves as the vehicle.

The ground is the physical distance and surrounding emptiness present in both of these concepts.

Trouble usually comes knocking when the ground between the tenor and the vehicle lacks clarity. When the shared characteristics are too vague or contradictory, the connection collapses and your readers are left scratching their heads wondering just what it is you're trying to say. 

Here are two examples of this I caught in the last manuscript I edited (shared with the lovely author's permission, of course).

1. "She moved through the ballroom like smoke."

There's nothing explicitly wrong with this, but smoke can drift, spread, obscure, or disappear, so in this case, the reader is left without a clear sense of which quality describes her movement.

Because there was no surrounding context to clue readers in, I fixed this simply by adding a small detail:

"She moved through the ballroom like smoke, slipping between bodies before anyone could catch her."

Now the intended quality of the vehicle is clear: she's difficult to track and seems to move without resistance.

2. "His resolve crumbled like a mountain."

Mountains erode over geological time, not in the sudden collapse that particular scene called for, so I swapped out the vehicle.

"His resolve crumbled like a sandcastle at high tide."

This was a pretty obvious fix, since the main character works in a lighthouse.

Evidently, selecting a strong vehicle requires pinpointing the exact physical or emotional trait you want to highlight in your subject.

Comparing Metaphors and Similes

The difference between a metaphor and a simile comes down to simple grammar—specifically the presence of connecting words such as "like" or "as." However, this subtle shift in grammar can change how a reader processes the text.

A simile establishes a comparison while keeping the two ideas separate and distinct. 

Writing that a house stood on the hill like a guard tower preserves the literal nature of the house. Your reader understands that the house remains a dwelling; it's only borrowing the watchful appearance of a tower, so this creates distance between the subject and the image.

Removing the connecting word creates a metaphor. 

Writing that the house was a guard tower forces the mind to temporarily fuse the two concepts. The literal boundary weakens, and the emotional qualities of the tower immediately flood the description of the house. This approach tends to increase sensory impact.

So how do you know when to use which?

Depends on the needs of the scene you're writing. 

Similes work well when you need precise analytical clarity. You want your readers to understand that these are two separate concepts and one is only like the other through the "ground" you've chosen to use.

Metaphors work best when you want rapid immersion and direct sensory transfer. You want to effectively fuse the two concepts into one.

The Spectrum of Subtlety

Figurative language functions across different levels of visibility. Most writers often default to explicit comparisons, but more understated techniques can also achieve strong results without drawing attention to the prose itself. I've broken this down into 3 levels going from glaring to subtle.

1. Explicit Comparisons

Explicit comparisons directly state the relationship using a linking verb (usually "was"). Writing that a character's voice was gravel directly pairs the subject with the figurative material.

This creates a bold visual tag that alters the tone of a dialogue exchange involving this character.

2. Implied Metaphors

Implied comparisons avoid direct pairing entirely. Instead of declaring that a character is a predator, you can describe them using verbs associated with hunting.

Saying that a character circled the lunch room and stalked the cliques implants the image of a predator through action rather than direct statement, and your reader senses the threat without registering an obvious literary device.

Personally, I enjoy reading things like this a lot! Take a look at this passage I line-edited for a fantasy author (again, shared with his permission).

Before:

The storm was a monster attacking the wooden ship. Captain Vance stood on the shaky deck, gripping the railing as large waves hit the crew like heavy hammers.

After:

The gale slammed its weight against the wooden hull, its black waters cresting over the bow. Captain Vance anchored his boots against the tilting deck and gripped the railing as mountainous waves hammered the crew.

In this case, "the gale" and "mountainous waves" are inanimate, so this is also called personification, which is basically the same concept as these implied metaphors.

3. Single-Word Modifications

Nouns, verbs, and adjectives can carry figurative weight on their own. Here are some quick examples:

Noun 

1. A river of panic flooded the hallway.

2. Behind the television was a jungle of electrical wires.

3. A wall of people blocked the narrow exit.

Verb

 1. Moonlight spilled across the cold floorboards.

 2. The argument limped to a bitter end.

 3. Grief had carved deep lines into his face.

4. The embarrassing memory chewed at her for weeks.

Replacing standard verbs with sensory alternatives embeds subtle imagery directly into the action. This is a nice technique for creating stronger verbs like your writing coaches and editors are always telling you ;)

Adjective

 1. She sent him a razor glare.

 2. His velvet voice swelled to fill the room.

 3. Alas, she could not escape her leaden sadness.

Constructing Purposeful Imagery

Effective figurative language requires careful measurement. If you use too many explicit comparisons, you slow the narrative momentum, as your reader must repeatedly pause to process new imagery.

Reserving direct metaphors for crucial story beats ensures that those moments retain their potency. You want the reader to pause and go...huh, so your next sentence swoops in and lands with even more impact to suck them back into your world.

This is one of the ways you create a voice that readers enjoy. We all have authors whose work we'll read regardless of the story they're telling simply because their prose is so delicious.

(Did you notice the implied metaphor there? Ha-ha, once you understand this technique, you'll see it everywhere.)

Mastering this mechanics-focused approach allows you to control how readers experience your narrative world.

However, a lot of us have read so many books that we just default to using the nearest metaphor our brains reach for. There are hundreds that've been programmed into us, used over and over again, and as a result, they've lost their vitality.

So, I've prepared a free guide for you. It's called 101 Dead Metaphors, and in it you'll find:

1. 101 of the most used figurative expressions in modern fiction (gathered from my decades of reading and over 6 years of professional editing)

2. A mini crash course on crafting new figurative expressions with a fresh punch

3. Common mistakes to avoid while doing this 

The list works just like this article. It doesn't contain every single overused

expression out there; it's just that once you read it, you'll start noticing all the dead phrases in your work, in published novels, everywhere! Naturally, you'll want to improve your writing by trying to form fresher expressions. 

Grab the free guide!

If you're in need of someone to provide constructive feedback on your manuscript and clear, actionable steps towards refining it into an unforgettable story, check out my book editing services here!

Book Editing Services

Alrighty, that's all for now. See you amazing authors next week. In the meantime, write that book!