The Monkey Metaphor Contest

I have a confession. I am terrible with writing metaphors. I try to be brilliant and witty with them and instead end up sounding ridiculous. It leaves my editors saying "huh?" Good thing I have editors.

Oh, every now and then I have actually come up with something good, like this:

She commanded respect even if she was as crazy as a painted desert lizard, running in circles, dizzy from the hot sun.
-- from my book Dreams

I was so proud of myself for that one, but my first-line editor (my husband TJ) said, "For once, you have a great metaphor, but it interrupts the flow of the paragraph." A tangent, he said. Great. Just great. My first good metaphor and I have to cut it.

Well, I didn't cut it. I reworked the rest of the paragraph to make it fit rather than it being a tangent and a distraction.

So this is a contest for writing the worst metaphors and similes. Maybe, subconsciously, it's a way to make me feel better. But honestly, I just mean for us to have a lot of fun. This contest is meant to make people laugh, so write the silliest, the most horrible, the most ridiculous metaphors ever.

The Rules

1. The competition is open to a paragraph containing a metaphor or simile.

2. Submit as many entries as you want.

3. All entries must be in English, original, unpublished, and not submitted or accepted elsewhere at the time of submission. CYA maneuver.

4. To enter the contest, post a comment with your entry and then email me your mailing address to along with an author's bio. In case you win, I'll need this to send you your prize and to post some information about you.

5. Entries must be submitted by midnight Tuesday, September 1, 2009.

6. I will choose several of my favorite entries and allow readers to vote to determine the winners. Voting will start Tuesday, September 8, 2009, and run to midnight Thursday, September 10, 2009.

7. Winners will be announced on this blog by Monday, September 14, 2009.

8. The first-prize winner will be determined by the entry with the most votes. The winner will receive the games Munchkin Fu & Munchkin Fu 2: Monkey Business as well as free publicity by having the winning entry and author's bio posted on my blog.

9. The second-prize winner will be determined by the entry with the second-most votes. The winner will receive the game Munchkin Booty as well as free publicity by having the winning entry and author's bio posted on my blog.

10. The runner-ups will be determined by any entry that I enjoyed but did not receive the top votes. All runner-ups will have free publicity by having their entry and author's bio posted on my blog.


  1. She stopped and breathed in the Tuesday morning air, like Monday afternoon air except for colder.

  2. Dennis walked down the hall, like a man cruising a corridor. He reached the door, its hinges shining in the moonlight as if illuminated by a reflected glow. He grasped for the knob searching like a virgin lover. When he finally found the knob he let out a sigh like an asthmatic. He gently pushed on the door like a roll of toothpaste, and squeezed himself into the room as if being born. The room was empty save a small glass bowl that lingered tauntingly on the floor. A puddle of water purged like a bulimic from the bowls lip.

  3. All the world’s a piss bucket and all the men and women in it merely a pile of excrement. They have their entrances and exits, and have somehow been processed and left decaying along the way. Were we to attempt an entrance through an exit we would be blocked by the flurry descending upon us, and pressed further into the bucket. The future for us is inevitable; we are to become a mass of putridity fit for a king.

  4. Renee watched the hot tub jets froth beneath the surface, a swirling toilet bowl of relaxation. Across the room, the Men’s room door opened and a massive man stepped out, like some fat guy who just arrived. As graceful as a walrus shoehorned into a tutu, his blubber rippled with every step. Unwrapping his towel, he let it fall to the floor, a discarded wrapper from the mother of all Twinkies. Slipping into the water, his limbs bobbed to the surface, his feet like buoys topped with a line of engorged maggots. The hot tub over ran like a cup that runneth over except for bigger, and with more water. Backing out in a hurry, like a person scared sh**less, Renee stared in horror at his chest hair, a waving mass of seaweed that floated out from his body like so many dead flies. Now, with the water having as much appeal as toxic waste, she hurried to the changing room and lay steaming on the bench like a fresh pile of manure.

  5. There was a word limit as part of the rules, but I removed that. You people are coming up with some great paragraphs, and I don't want to cramp anybody's style.

    I am so glad I am not allowed to vote on unless to break a tie. These are all so good!

  6. oops- sorry about the word limit. I forgot about it.

  7. Don't worry about it! I'd rather have great entries than short entries.

  8. does that mean we are now going to have to write bad metaphor short stories and bring them back to you?

    this could be dangerous.

  9. I was playing with a paragraph like you Lauren, but I've got it out of my system. I'm done, like a person who has nothing left to say.

  10. Oh no, if I got short stories, I'd be so busy like a person who has no extra time. Limit it to a paragraph or two please.

  11. i thought of one last night that was all kinds of awkward and didn't write it down and now it is lost in the caverns of my brain like a manbearbig in the soul of al gore.

  12. “Pantene,” she sighed apologetically, “to feel your smooth fingers weaving untangled through my silky manageable hair, like golden sunlight quivering through tree branches, to feel your moisturizing lips upon my scalp, like morning dew kissing a rose, to feel your thick richness dripping upon my shoulder, like jam on the chin of a toddler eating a piece of toast, to believe in your promise to make me as beautiful as a dove flying beside a purple lilac bush, to sleep with your intoxicating scent in my tresses, like the smell of nature’s breath in a meadow of wild flowers, it is simply not possible Pantene, my preference is L’Oreal, because I’m worth it.”

  13. Rita,

    I can't locate your email address.

    Please send it to me. I’ll send you my biography. Thanks for sponsoring this contest. It is zany and fun!

    D.B. Pacini

  14. My simian simile is like a wee little monkey

    With the jittery java jive of the capuchin, oh.

    You'll be agog and agape and you might go ape

    Once snappy words, like pooh, start to fly to and fro.

  15. I know that this is way past late but meh, this might be fun..
    By the way, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, or the Ass of the room, but you wrote a simile, not a metaphor, not saying that's bad...

    ....and with the sink tap tap tapping with water, reminding the second hand of my vintage wall clock to move, the dog barking at the squirrel who purposely antagonized her, my neighbor, using my phone to, as I know now, break up with her ex incognito, and the landlord knocking at my door in search of another residence due to her obvious dyslexia, my mind decided to do the one thing that could clear the Grand Ole Opry in the midst of a snow storm: my brain farted.Oh the sweet smell of relief. Sights, sounds, thoughts, all beyond my abilities, even for just one moment. Then the tidal wave of agony rushed back through me, replacing my mind's sweet perfume with the rotten stench of reality.


I love your comments.