I got a Hugo. Wow, again. What a crazy thing. It's for the magazine, but I am sure not going to knock it. It's sitting there on my dining room sideboard in all its chrome-and-navy blue glory. My first time up onstage with such a big crowd in a long time, and I was really nervous.
The convention was fun, but weirdly frenetic. I spent a hilarious evening with Paolo Bacigalupi and Blake Charlton, discussing the various implications of furries and plushies and steatophygia until the wee hours of the morn. The rest of the nights seemed to pass in a blur -- thank you everyone who contributed to my intoxication -- but I met some new folks and got to see some of my favorites.
We had the whole staff there, which was a kick, and a luxury. Mzmelia and Kar did a fabulous job selling subscriptions and the new anthologies, and we may have covered our expenses and then some. Had some good discussions on the future of the field, what science fiction is becoming, what will happen to fantasy when the boom busts (if it does), how horror fits into it all. As always, I wish I could have spent more time, had more one-on-one conversations, etc. I walk away with one phrase recurring in my head: Brook no bullshit. There's a lot of posturing at these things that I find unnecessary. H.E.'s grabbing Connie onstage was reprehensible, and out of respect for her, I drop it there.
All in all, I think it was a success and am trying to figure out how to get to Japan next year.
Photos to follow.
Reading: CELL by Stephen King
UNLUNDUN by China Mieville