Like the waters of the river, like the motorists on the highway, and like the yellow trains streaking down the Santa Fe tracks, drama, in the shape of exceptional happenings, had never stopped there.
Truman Capote, In Cold Blood
What gorgeous suspense as we wait to discover what, exactly, is like the river, the motorists, and the yellow trains. Even then, after we pass through the three similes like connected boxcars when the subject of the sentence is revealed, “drama,” we must wait to find out what is going on with drama.
Art is about compression, and in this sentence, Capote accomplishes a great deal. Not only do the three opening similes create suspense, but they give us a glimpse of the setting: there is a river, cars on a highway that don’t stop in this town, and yellow trains on the Santa Fe track.
Usually, a simile is written so the target, what is being talked about, comes first, and the source, what the target is being compared to, follows. “Drama is like the waters of the river.” In this sentence, “drama” is the target, and water of the river, the motorists, and the yellow trains are the source. The inversion stands out because it’s unusual and builds intrigue as we wonder what is the target.
Capote’s creativity shines even brighter with his use of personification: he turns the abstract idea of “drama” into a physical form that has shape and can move like a river, a car, a train.
With the repetition of “like,” Capote ushers in anaphora, the repetition of a word or words at the beginning of phrases, clauses or sentences, which creates rhythm and heightened emotion. He also uses series, or three, to add to the rhythm of the sentence. For even more rhythm, each simile in the series has a different syllable count: 8 syllables, 9, then 14.
After the series, we finally come to the subject “drama.” Rather than follow immediately with the verb, Capote invokes more suspense by making the sentence mid-branching, separating the subject from the verb phrase, “had never stopped there.” What interrupts is a modifier referring to “drama,” “in the shape of exceptional happenings.”
I like how the “a” in “waters” sings again with the keyword of this sentence, “drama.” It also is the same rhythm: heavy stress, light stress: WAter, DRAma. That this note rang twice, loudly, rhymically, creates unity and cohesion for me.
Your Turn:
1. Start with your target, which will serve as the subject of your sentence. Now think of three images to compare it to. These will serve as your similes. The critical thing in building similes and metaphors is finding the bridge between the target and the source(s). What do they have in common? For Capote, the bridge between drama and river, cars and trains is movement: they don’t stop in the town.
2. Place the three similes at the beginning of your sentence.
3. Add the subject and delay the verb by adding a modifier that further defines the subject.
4. Now add your verb.
Try it!
Let me know how it goes.
What else do you see?
About Me:
I’ve taught “Style in Fiction,” “Word for Word” and “Cultivating Your Prose” at the University of San Francisco and Stanford Continuing Studies since 2007. I’ve watched my writing and my students’ writing blossom with this practice of paying close attention to the sentence.
Please visit my website to find all of my books: ninaschuyler.com (including “How to Write Stunning Sentences” and “Stunning Sentences: A Creative Writing Journal).
My new novel Afterword is available now! If your book club chooses my book to read, I can Zoom in and talk to the group. If you’ve read my novel please consider posting an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. Thank you!
Order links:
Upcoming Reading:
Monday, August 7th, 7:00 pm, Odd Mondays Reading Series! Please join us.
On August, 5th, 12:00-2:00, I’ll be talking to “Sisters in Crime” about how to write stunning sentences. Sausalito’s Edgewater Room at the Sausalito Library.
So fun and fascinating! Here’s mine (inspired by our extreme heat here in Phx!)
Like the black asphalt under her shoeless feet, like the unshaded steering wheel of her junky car, and like the metal mailbox in the afternoon sun, his final words, in red ink on crisp white paper, had burned her all summer.
I'm loving these exercises.
Like the remains of glitter on the side walk, like a balloon drifting in the gutter, like a song left playing on repeat on a scratched CD, his failure, in the form of scattered party debris, taunted him with its reminders.