Author: Ellen Shriner

  • Because You Need a Good Laugh

    The following list originally appeared in 1999 in the Washington Post as winners of a “Funniest Analogies Ever Written in a High School Essay Contest”

     My favorites are #2, 9, and 25.  What are yours?

    1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

    2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

    3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

    4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli, and he was room temperature Canadian beef.

    5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

    6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

    7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

    8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

    9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

    10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

    11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

    12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

    13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

    14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

    15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

    16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

    17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

    18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

    19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

    20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

    21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

    22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

    23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

    24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

    25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

  • Lifelong Friends

    After nearly five months of studying abroad in Spain, my youngest son returned, speaking Spanish like a pro, with his head full of the many sights he’d seen and the experiences he had. The culture shock of being back in the U.S. wasn’t what was hardest for Greg; rather, it was the realization that he will rarely see the many friends he made in the study abroad program—they live scattered all over the U.S.

    Greg and friends in Spain
    Greg and friends in Spain

    Together, they endured the stress of being lost and clueless in a foreign city. They had the pleasure of discovering Roman ruins, Moorish palaces, Mediterranean beaches, and amazing meals. They stayed in sketchy hostels and traveled hungover on smelly buses. They saw each other at their worst and liked each other anyhow.

    “Don’t worry. You’ll see them again,” my oldest son reassured him.  About a month ago, Mike had been in Los Angeles on business where he reunited with several friends he’d made when he studied in Italy three years ago. Over breakfast, Mike and his friends traded stories about the Real Jobs they’ve acquired and caught up on who’s seeing whom. But more importantly, they didn’t take themselves too seriously—they never have.

    Mike and friends in Italy
    Mike and friends in Italy

    “You’ll be surprised how easy it is to pick right up where you left off,” he said.

    I added, “There’s no reason you can’t be friends for life. The person you are in your 20’s is your essential self—you and your friends will still be those people 30 years from now.”

    I can speak from experience. Several weeks ago, I met up with three friends I’ve known since I was in my 20’s: Pam, Rich and Sue (husband and wife). Together, we experienced the culture shock of moving from decent-sized cities to a small college town on the prairie. We muddled through our first full-time teaching jobs in a dysfunctional English department. We entertained ourselves by creating musical alter egos—a girl band called Pam and the Pamettes who were managed by Señor Grif, a.k.a. Rich. We planned spicy Mexican potlucks to heat up the long Minnesota winters. We shared poetry, short stories, and complaints.

    More than 30 years later, we are the same in all of the important ways. Although I haven’t seen Rich and Sue in more than 10 years, the four of us were immediately at ease with each other. We’re still true-blue liberals, who love art, good books and good food.

    Pam, Rich and Sue
    Pam, Rich and Sue

    As the antidote to a sobering conversation about coping with aging parents, Rich pretended to be a character called the Know-It-All Guy whose job is giving extemporaneous lectures (i.e., making up stuff about silver mining or the habits of dolphins). We laughed till our stomachs hurt. Pam and Rich riffed about the K-I-A Guy for days while Sue rolled her eyes and I egged them on—exactly the kind of silly fun we’ve always had.

    I’m grateful to have these lifelong friends gracing my life.  With any luck, my sons will have lifelong friendships like these, too.

  • 5 Things I’ve Learned About Writing Blogs (Reflections at the One-year Anniversary of WordSisters)

    May 31st marks the one-year anniversary of WordSisters. Yippee! We’re still going strong. All two of us. 

    MP900341653Here are some discoveries I’ve made –

    1. Total strangers follow WordSisters. This still amazes and delights me. I figured 20 or so of our friends and family members might read the blog out of curiosity and loyalty. But we now have dozens of followers, many of whom came to us through the magic of the Interwebs and social media. How cool is that?!? Thanks for reading!
    2. Writing a blog is good discipline. Every other week when it’s my turn to blog, I have to write something. Sometimes I’m excited about it. Sometimes I’m lukewarm. But either way, I’m committed to doing this (and I can’t let Beth down), so I write. That’s a lot of blank screens. That’s a lot of words, thoughts, and stories. That’s 26 times per year that I have shared something I hoped would make you smile or think. Your comments and Likes tell us we’re succeeding.
    3. Writing a blog is different from writing a personal essay (beyond the obvious differences such as links, tags, and visuals). With the personal essays I hope to publish, I may revise 8-10 times during the course of a year or two as I refine what I’m trying to say. I think hard about meaning and style. But with blog posts, which are often meant to be timely reactions to current events, I don’t have the luxury of being so meticulous. I write more quickly and hope to get down the essence of what I want to say. I have to accept that good enough is good enough. As a former writing teacher who now writes for a living, it’s hard to let go of perfectionism. But I’ve learned that if I’m not completely satisfied with a post, well, better luck next time!
    4. I love the power of self-publishing! I love that if we think a topic or piece is worthy of your attention, we can simply put it out there.
    5. By blogging regularly, I’m creating a body of work. I hadn’t thought of this, but blogger Dan Blank had, and he wrote a guest post on Jane Friedman’s website about publishing. I think he’s right. Our blog style and content is still evolving, but looking back I can see how we each have distinctive voices and certain themes recur.

    Going forward, we hope to invite other writers to post on WordSisters and we want to make it easier to find past posts.

    Thanks for coming along for the ride!Beautiful Fireworks