Let us speak now of metaphors, similes, and symbolism. These are all things you should know from your English classes, but in case your high school was as crappy as mine was, let's get into this.

A metaphor is a basic writing tool for description: it compares one thing to another. It does so directly. Dictionary.com gives a good example from Shakespeare: "All the world's a stage." The world, obviously, is not a literal stage; the implication of the phrase is that the world is like a stage, and people play out dramas in the same way actors play out roles. It's a beautiful comparison, because as readers we know just what he means, but he doesn't have to spell it out for us. It's artful.

A simile is also a comparison, but it differs from a metaphor in that it is indirect. Generally speaking, similes make use of the words, "like," or, "as." Again, Dictionary.com's Shakespeare example is perfect: "How like the winter hath my absence been." In other words, the winter is cold and lonely, and I was cold and lonely when I was away. And so, again, it's a much prettier way of describing how the speaker has been feeling.

Unlike your English teacher, I'm not going to give you a worksheet on these. But they're good to keep in mind when you're trying to explain a difficult feeling or come up with an artful description. Obviously, sometimes they can get rather cliché (and there's more on that in the purple prose section), but when done well they can be very effective.

Continuing on in the vein of things that represent other things, symbolism is another way to make a dramatic point in writing. It tends to go a bit deeper than metaphors or similes, but the basic principle is the same. In this case, something important in the story—usually a general theme, or the moral of the story—is represented by something tangible. There's symbolism in almost every story you'll ever read.

Symbolism was something I despised in high school, because over-analysis of anything can make it unpleasant. I felt similarly about outlines in middle school and, well, I clearly grew out of that and am now a big advocate of outlines. I'm less sold on symbolism, but am growing out of my distaste for it because it can really be so effective, and since I no longer have teachers trying to ruin Huckleberry Finn for me by making me list five different symbols in every chapter, I can enjoy the symbols that are really there.

For example, using Huck Finn, since it's pretty much my favorite book of all time, rivers are almost always symbols. In Huck Finn, the journey down the river is a symbol for Huck's growth. At no point does Twain beat you over the head with a large stick that has SYMBOL written on it in large letters, but when you read the book with a critical eye, it's clear. And that's what good symbolism should be: there for those who want it, something that works on a deep level, but not something that's so blatant that the reader feels talked down to. (For example, watching Batman Begins I was left rolling my eyes and thinking, Oh, gee, bats represent fear. I get it. No, I said I get it. Stop with the bats equals fear motif already! I get it!)

An interesting note for Newsies slash writers in particular: cigars and cigarettes are famous as phallic symbols and symbols for homoeroticism. When a man lights another man's cigarette, well... I'll let you figure out what that's symbolic of yourself. Let us just say, yum.