Today I finished a chapter in my book in which my main character, among other things, walks through a garden and eats an apple. Proud at completing it, I began to reread it to submit to my writing buddy.
Wait a minute here… apple… garden… doh!! I swear, I meant to make to allusion! I wanted a fruit that would grow in a climate like the northeast, and I have fond memories of eating apples from trees in Vermont. But apples are ruined for us writers. Never again will an apple be just an apple.