I Never Metaphor I Didn't Like

Novel: Labyrinth
Author: Kate Mosse

A sampling of similes from pages 90-97:

Nausea sloshed in her stomach, like bilge water at the bottom of a rotting boat.

Everything seemed to be shifting backward and forward, in and out, like a film out of focus.

The sound was distorted, like a record player at the wrong speed.

The strong white light cut through the inky blackness of the chamber like a searchlight. [Note: Actually, since it's a flashlight and they're searching for something, it IS a searchlight.]

...the shadow of the altar was silhouetted on the rock wall behind, like the Greek letter pi superimposed on the carved labyrinth.

The sun seemed to explode in Alice's face like a firework in a black November sky.

Alice felt that if she touched anything it would fall down, like scenery on a film set...

Her head was suddenly filled with whispering, disjointed sounds, like echoes in time. [In point of fact, they ARE echoes in time, not merely "like" them.]

They went round and round in her head, like a half-remembered nursery rhyme.

But the words were rooted in her mind, repeating loud and clear, like a mantra.

Reading this book is like getting hit in the face over and over again with the word redundant.