“Isn’t it ironic, don’tcha think?”
If you’ll be singing that song all day long now, you’re WELCOME.
She said, ironically.
I’m a big fan of the ironic, but in my winter melancholy (S. A. D. S.), I’ve avoided my passions. Today, the sun is shining, the boy’s in school all day, and despite the teen temps, I was inspired to read a couple of essays on irony (this is a good one) which led me down a rabbit hole.
David Corbett wrote about the cliche of irony and I had to think about what I’d written and what kind of irony I used. I squirmed as mentioned by others in the comments of his post, but I also got excited because each of my characters are working toward goals that, if reached, would destroy them. In an ironic way, of course. Should keep this in sight and even note on a Scrivener board.
But now is passion for irony, in fact, ironic?
“I’d kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.”
― Steven Wright