I’ve spent three days in the company of brilliant writers and I am humbled and inspired, and educated all at the same time.  The past few days I was in Portales New Mexico, site of the Williamson Lectureship.  The Lectureship was founded by Jack Williamson, Grand Master of science fiction, and man who sold his first story, The Metal Man, in 1928, and his last novel, The Stonhenge Gate, was published in 2005.  Other little facts about Jack;  he added words to the English language by inventing them and using them in his fiction — terraforming, genetic engineering, humanoid, psionics, — and I’m probably forgetting a few.  For those of us who knew him he was also the kindest, wisest, most modest, and most gracious man I’ve ever known.  Anyway, he took to inviting famous science fiction writers down to Eastern New Mexico University to speak on a variety of topics.  In total 7 grand masters of science fiction have shared their knowledge with students and colleagues at ENMU over some 37 years.

This year was no exception.  Grand Master Joe Haldeman was the Guest of Honor with Grand Master Connie Willis doing her usual perfect job as the Mistress of Ceremonies.  Also present were Steve Gould, author of Jumper, and Reflex and Impulse to name just a few of his books.  Ian Tregillis author of the Milkweed Triptych, Ed Bryant.  And me.  I was there soaking it all up.  I was also trying to work on the final big scene of the Wild Card movie.  A scene in which I new what had to happen, but I hated how it was going to happen.  As always happens when you gather a lot of writers in the same place we talk about writing.  Connie who is a huge Primeval fan and got me hooked on the series talked about how the show always avoided being sentimental or too earnest by using irony.  She mentioned specific scenes and I knew exactly what she meant, and in that moment I knew how to write this scene.  I had to use irony.

So I’m burbling about this to a friend on Facebook, a very talented, aspiring writer name Eric Kelley, and one of his responses implied that he wasn’t quite sure in what context I was using irony.  That’s when I realized that I needed a definition of how it’s used in writing rather than an amorphous, well I know it when I see it/use it definition.  so, at breakfast this morning at Mark’s Grill I asked Connie what does irony mean?

She said she had struggled with it, and it was a professor at Greeley who gave her the best definition.  This is how I condensed what he said.  “Irony is the gap between expectation and the actual resolution.”  In other words — it’s when expectation does not match the resolution.  There are also other ways to inject irony.  When the tone doesn’t match the words.  That probably works better in a screenplay then a novel, but it can be pulled off with the right dialogue tags.  Going back to Primeval.  There is a scene where Cutter has managed to escape from the distant past when it was feared he had been lost forever.  He and this woman are starting to fall in love, but are resisting it both in their own minds and in how they deal with each other.  And in the moment Cutter says something like “Did you miss me?”  And she replies in this rather snarky way “Devastated,” and they go their separate ways, but in that moment the audience realizes that they have just told each other how they actually feel.  But it doesn’t come across like soap opera.  Irony strikes again and saves the moment.

So thought I’m physically tired from teaching and being on panels and laughing and talking with fellow writers, and driving hundreds of miles I have returned from this time far more informed and inspired to do better, to improve my writing in some small measure by the help and example of these other professionals.