Why, Yes, As A Matter Of Fact, I Did Win A Hugo-
--for best novelette, for "The Girl-Thing Who Went Out For Sushi."
I'm not home yet-I'm spending a couple of days in NYC and I'll be back home on Friday night. After which I will collapse on the sofa, under Gentleman Jinx, and resume trips to Neptune.
For those who have wondered, who have asked, or even if you don't give a rat's caboose, I'm going to Neptune in the same universe a Girl-Thing, about a hundred years later. There will be many octopus, Nautilus, and even a few bipeds here and there. The working title is See You When You Get There.
"The Girl-Thing Who Went Out For Sushi" was a working title, but when I finished the story, I couldn't think of a better one. So I turned it in like that, figuring Jonathan Strahan might think of something better. And son of a gun, that title is just fine. It fits on a Hugo just fine. ;-)
Very shortly, This Is Horror will be publishing a chapbook by me, called "Chalk." It's one of a series of stories set in the neighbourhood where I grew up but are otherwise unrelated (i.e., the stories and the people in them are unaware of each other and do not adhere to an overall set of parameters).
I also have the Christmas story at Tor.com, something called "The Christmas Show," which is the start of a series of stories about two sisters obliged to-oh, I'll let you find out when it's published in December.
And another factoid for those who have asked, for the curious, and, of course, for those who still don't give a rat's caboose, this really is my first Hugo. I have been nominated half a dozen times; the last time I was nominated was an even twenty years ago, in 1993. This is why I love being a writer--every day is another chance and if you just keep going, something good will come up over the horizon at you. And in the meantime, you become better at what you're doing. You can still learn. Writing and art are professions in which getting older means getting better--experience makes you wiser, more perceptive, and more adaptable. You can continue learning new things, about your profession and about yourself, till the day you check out. (And to those who think I'm flattering myself: well, so what? You're obviously not going to. Why are you reading this anyway?)
And if anyone knows where I can find some record--video, audio, whatever--of me accepting my Hugo, please point me at it. I'd love to know what I said. I was halfway up the stairs to the stage when I realised I had no speech. I stalled at the beginning and then I tried to thank everyone I love. But I was completely boggled, stunned, and ecstatic. It's a wonderful combination of feelings but it doesn't tend to make you eloquent. OK, it doesn't tend to me me eloquent. Or even articulate.
Did I mention I won a Hugo? It was exciting!
I'm not home yet-I'm spending a couple of days in NYC and I'll be back home on Friday night. After which I will collapse on the sofa, under Gentleman Jinx, and resume trips to Neptune.
For those who have wondered, who have asked, or even if you don't give a rat's caboose, I'm going to Neptune in the same universe a Girl-Thing, about a hundred years later. There will be many octopus, Nautilus, and even a few bipeds here and there. The working title is See You When You Get There.
"The Girl-Thing Who Went Out For Sushi" was a working title, but when I finished the story, I couldn't think of a better one. So I turned it in like that, figuring Jonathan Strahan might think of something better. And son of a gun, that title is just fine. It fits on a Hugo just fine. ;-)
Very shortly, This Is Horror will be publishing a chapbook by me, called "Chalk." It's one of a series of stories set in the neighbourhood where I grew up but are otherwise unrelated (i.e., the stories and the people in them are unaware of each other and do not adhere to an overall set of parameters).
I also have the Christmas story at Tor.com, something called "The Christmas Show," which is the start of a series of stories about two sisters obliged to-oh, I'll let you find out when it's published in December.
And another factoid for those who have asked, for the curious, and, of course, for those who still don't give a rat's caboose, this really is my first Hugo. I have been nominated half a dozen times; the last time I was nominated was an even twenty years ago, in 1993. This is why I love being a writer--every day is another chance and if you just keep going, something good will come up over the horizon at you. And in the meantime, you become better at what you're doing. You can still learn. Writing and art are professions in which getting older means getting better--experience makes you wiser, more perceptive, and more adaptable. You can continue learning new things, about your profession and about yourself, till the day you check out. (And to those who think I'm flattering myself: well, so what? You're obviously not going to. Why are you reading this anyway?)
And if anyone knows where I can find some record--video, audio, whatever--of me accepting my Hugo, please point me at it. I'd love to know what I said. I was halfway up the stairs to the stage when I realised I had no speech. I stalled at the beginning and then I tried to thank everyone I love. But I was completely boggled, stunned, and ecstatic. It's a wonderful combination of feelings but it doesn't tend to make you eloquent. OK, it doesn't tend to me me eloquent. Or even articulate.
Did I mention I won a Hugo? It was exciting!