Now that it's getting colder I'm reading The Exorcist. It's good but I couldn't help noticing a couple of gruesomely tortured similes in the first couple chapters:
>Points of light. They stretched into dark like guides to hopelessness.
>He paid for his tea and left a tip of fifty fils on a splintered table the color of sadness.
>The child was slender as a fleeting hope.
Thankfully they peter out by the middle of the book (haven't finished). Maybe Blatty realized halfway through that sadness has many potential colors and it might be distracting for a reader to stop and figure out what exact hue of sadness this table is, only to remember that this table is actually completely irrelevant to the broader story; it's just a place for Father Merrin to sit and it doesn't show up ever again.
>Points of light. They stretched into dark like guides to hopelessness.
>He paid for his tea and left a tip of fifty fils on a splintered table the color of sadness.
>The child was slender as a fleeting hope.
Thankfully they peter out by the middle of the book (haven't finished). Maybe Blatty realized halfway through that sadness has many potential colors and it might be distracting for a reader to stop and figure out what exact hue of sadness this table is, only to remember that this table is actually completely irrelevant to the broader story; it's just a place for Father Merrin to sit and it doesn't show up ever again.