You Lie Down with Dogs, You Wake Up in Hot Water: Metaphors Aren’t Antisocial—But They Don’t Always Mix Well

I love metaphors. When I come across a great one while reading, I write it down as a reminder to spend time crafting them. Here are some musings on metaphors. Mixing metaphors—combining two unrelated idioms—is considered a grammatical faux pas. But in the right circumstances, mixing metaphors fosters a more creative comparison, makes your readers think, and may even produce chuckles.

·      Don’t eat with your mouth open for business.  

·      I’ll ride shotgun in the backseat.

·      Earl tucked tail and left in a cloud of smoke.

·      When life hands you a lemon, make an ice cream sundae.

·      Shape up or sink like a stone.

·      Don’t count your chickens before you put their eggs in your basket.

·      Beating around the bush may get you in deep water.

·      Cross that bridge after you’ve burned it.

·      The quiet before the storm preceded a blast from the past.

·      Wake up and smell the writing on the wall.

·      If you lie down with dogs, you’ll wake up in hot water.

Finally, what would a tip on mixing metaphors be without mentioning the master metaphor-mixer, Yogi Berra? Here are a few of my favorite Yogisms:

·      “Pair up in threes.”

·      “Why buy good luggage? You only use it when you travel.”

·      “The future ain’t what it used to be.”

·      “No one goes there [restaurant] anymore; it’s too crowded.”

·      “Baseball is ninety percent mental. The other half is physical.”

·      “When you come to a fork in the road, take it!”

 

I’m a Texas gal. Except for an eighteen-month hiatus living in New York City after college, I lived in the Lone Star State continuously for fifty years. Since then, Texas has been hit and miss—a little hit, but a heck of a lot of miss. There was a time when I thought I would happily die in Austin, Texas. But circumstances and weather—especially weather—changed that. Now I spend most of the year on Fidalgo Island in Washington State with a view of the bay and the mountains. When I get homesick, my husband and I listen to Willie Nelson. Soon we are dancing the two-step, imagining we are at our favorite honky-tonk in Tokyo, Texas, where the mayor is believed to be a dog. Who wouldn’t miss that?

 

I write the awarding-winning mystery series: the Sydney Lockhart Mystery Series set in the 1950s and the Classic Triviography Mystery Series, which includes The Sherlock Holmes Quiz Book, updated and released by Lyons Press on November 1, 2020. My Kate Caraway animal-rights mystery series includes Run Dog Run and A Two Horse Town. Eagle Crossing is scheduled for release in 2022.

 

Look for Sherlock Holmes of Baking Street, an anthology by notable authors and Sherlockians. I’m honored to have a Holmes short story included.

 

        On my website, you can also find my Five-Minute Writing Tips and blog posts about publishing,                 marketing, birding, and quirky things that come to mind. Kathleen Kaska

 

Just released in May—Sherlock Holmes of Baking Street. I was honored to be asked to contribute a Holmes short story or essay for this anthology. I'd always wanted to try my hand at writing a Holmes pastiche. Finally, this was the nudge I need. My story is "The Adventure at Old Basingstoke." Also included is my recipe for scones since the theme of the anthology is baking. 

 

 

Resolution as Metaphor

This year, I made two New Year’s resolutions. The first was to carry only the essentials in my purse.

I’m a person who delights in handbags. In particular, I like to carry totes, which accommodate lots of extra stuff. As a result, my shoulder and back are constantly aching from the weight I carry.

Hence, this year, I determined to lighten my load.

My second resolution was to drink more water. Perhaps part of this resolution came from the fact that I had the flu the last week of the year, and discovered the keys to getting better were taking the antibiotic, getting lots of rest, and keeping hydrated.

Liquids are very comforting when your throat is sore and nothing tastes good. They’re both filling and moisturizing, two very satisfying feelings associated with a comfortable, healthy lifestyle.

At some point during my recovery, I read in a writing craft book that characters should be viewed as metaphors rather than people. Interesting concept. Rather like the passion plays from the medieval times where audiences were encouraged to associate characters with good or evil.

It made me wonder if resolutions should be viewed as metaphors instead goals. Is a resolution a plan for action or a reflection of what you think about yourself?

What does it say about me that I want to carry less around and concentrate on drinking enough fluids? Are those signals that I want to shed unnecessary baggage and focus on keeping refreshed and vital?

How do those resolutions relate to my writing?

If you travel only with the essentials, you’re not overwhelmed with personal objects. You can watch what’s around you and enjoy new experiences. And if you keep hydrated, you have what’s essential to life. You are, in fact, embracing what makes up most of a human body (50 to 75 percent) and of the environment (about 71 percent of the earth’s surface and about a trace to 4 percent of the atmosphere).

Lightness and water are two ideas associated with movement and flow. They enable the journey and keep the adventurer fueled to seek new possibilities.

So far this year, I’ve been able to keep my resolutions. My shoulder and back don’t ache, and I’m rarely thirsty.

I know it’s hard to stick to resolutions. I’m sure the day’s coming when I slip that extra book into my tote or stay at the computer too long without taking a break to fill my glass.

But, maybe when I stray, remembering how much better I felt when I was following the resolutions will bring me back to them again. Perhaps I’ll read over some of my writing from a time I carried only a notebook and pen instead of my iPad or laptop and wrote at a coffee shop drinking refreshing mint tea. Maybe I’ll notice the easy movement of my prose when I was less encumbered and better lubricated. Then, I can sit down at my computer with a full bottle of water, type from my notes, and feel like I’m making progress.

And, isn’t that what resolutions are all about? Getting us started going forward into the New Year?

 

Have you made any resolutions? If so, what do you think they say about you and your writing?