I think the cliche I hate the most is in TV shows, movies or books, when someone looks in a mirror at themselves; worse yet, a cracked mirror. Worse still, if the characters themselves crack the mirror on purpose, so angered with peering into their soul (which is manifested by their physical shattering of their own introspective, sad reflection). And yet, this is a cliche that exists for a reason; without it, how on earth could that self-hatred, self-examination, possibly be demonstrated? Reflections are called just that — reflections — for a reason. Because the word itself implies looking at one’s self. And how else in real-time do you do that without a mirror, a crystal-clear lake, a puddle, a window, etc.

It’s such a shame, cliches that exist because there is too exact a physical representation of something mental in nature.

Mirrors make originality incredibly difficult.


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