Nebula Weekend
I haven't been to a Nebula Awards banquet in more than ten years and, frankly, I haven't missed it. After attending several in a row, I began to feel as though I was attending an overblown corporate banquet where people spoke too long and where the food rarely rose above the merely edible. For years, the running joke about the Nebulas was the reliability of the Nebula rubber chicken. Happily, this year, none of these things were true in the least.
As stated here before, this year, the Awards were held in Seattle. I dithered for weeks about whether or not to spend the three-digit sum to attend the entire affair: panels, parties and awards banquet. As it turned out, I didn't have to. Anne Groell, Bantam Spectra's senior editor and my successor there, called me about two weeks beforehand and asked me if I'd like to join her at the Bantam table as a guest of my former employer. I happily accepted.
As I did with regard to Norwescon, I'm going to cut this report into day chapters, sparing those who aren't interested the need to scroll through pages on their Friends lists. Note that each chapter is fairly lengthy, so I've split those into parts with bolded headers, allowing you even more ways to read only what you want to, and to skip the chatter that may bore you. So here's my report:
Dinner with Anne
Whenever Anne and I are both at a convention, we make a point of getting together for what is usually a wonderfully girly, gossipy meal. This being my hometown, she asked that I recommend somewhere for dinner. We finally settled on Elliot's at Pier 56, a terrific seafood restaurant with views out to Elliot Bay. Though in Seattle everything is relative, Elliot's is one of the more upscale spots on the waterfront, so I made a point of dressing business casual for dinner. We asked for and received window seating so Anne could watch the sunset while we ate and caught up, and settled in with a bottle of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand (which I would recommend to anyone; this is the second time someone's recommended a New Zealand winehi twilight2000! and the second time I haven't been disappointed).
For appetizers she had the steamed clams (yum!); I had the potato-crusted goat cheese accompanied by roasted garlic, two kinds of chutney and a bottom layer of salad. Tasty, addictive, excellent. For dinner, I had the crab/shrimp crabcakes accompanied by mashed potatoes, asparagus spears and some sort of dark sauce that was just delicious. The crab cakes were dense but didn't feel heavy in the way that crab cakes usually do. They had a zing to them that I appreciated, possibly provided by the shrimp, certainly provided by extra spices of some kind. For dessert we shared a bowl of peanut butter cup ice cream. We talked abbout her upcoming nuptials, the tribulations of marrying someone from another country (in this case, Canada) and about the transition period I feel like I'm going through, all of which was fun and cathartic.
After the meal, we took a stroll along the waterfront. The evening was crisp and clear; traffic was minimal. I confirmed a report I'd heard from a penny-smashing friend that there are new penny-smashing machines all along the waterfront, rolled one set at Waterfront Landmark on Pier 55, and promised myself I'd come back to roll sets on all the new machines we saw as we strolled.
First night parties
Then we headed back to the Westin for the evening's parties. At this point, three days later, most of the first night party is a blur, but I know that I saw a number of old friends and a number of the weekend's stars (about whom more later). Anne and I had had just enough wine that for me, though it was fun to be there and fine to reconnect with old friends for the first time of the weekend, the party was a little too much icing on the cake. I had a great time, but around midnight I decided to cut out for the evening.
Saturday: Lunch with Keith
One of the highlights of my weekend was lunch with my friend Keith deCandido. Keith's a writer and editor, out for the event because an anthology he edited called Imaginings included a story that had been nominated for a Nebula ("A Sweet Slow Dance in the Wake of Temporary Dogs" by Adam-Troy Castro, a simply exquisite story about the price one might be willing to pay to live somewhere they loveif you're interested, read it here, gratis). I was delighted that he'd decided to come. With a request from girasole that I be sure to treat him to something special for his birthday fresh in my mind, I picked Keith up at the hotel and brought him out to Fremont for lunch at Blue C Sushi, where the tasty and freshly-made sushi travels about the restaurant on conveyor belts. He briefed me on everything he's working on, we gossiped about friends a bit (don't worry, suricattus, you're safe ::grin::), and in general had a wonderful time. After lunch, I treated Keith to birthday ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery, and then gave him a little walking tour of the Fremont neighborhood, stopping at the Rocket, Lenin's statue and the Fremont Bridge Troll, the last of which I think he appreciated best. At that point, we headed back to the hotel as I had a business meeting to attend.
A bit of business
As it happens, the business in question was about the freelance project I've been working on. It also happens that the folks I was meeting with were old friends, so the meeting was part business, part catch-up chatter. Of course, sitting in the hotel bar meant that we were interrupted several times by other friends coming over to say hello. Interestingly, one of those people was the woman who succeeded me at WizKids and a couple of my authors from the line there. Anything I might have to say about that, I'll reserve for private e-mail or conversation. After spending some time in the hospitality suite on the 39th floor (with spectacular views of the city and Elliot Bay) at the Foolscap tea, I headed home to change for the evening.
Saturday evening: Clothes craziness
The Nebula Awards is usually a fairly formal affair. Wanting to do something different and distinctive, I recently picked up this fabulous Cambodian silk wrap in black, plum and gold with black fringes. My plan was to wear it with a full-length burgundy-colored sheath with long kick pleat. When I finally put the whole thing on, though, the wrap was too orangey and I became freakishly concerned about clashing colors. Chickening out, I went instead with the sheer jacket that came with the sheath dress. I wore my great-grandmother's amythest-and-pearl encrusted broach, gold earrings and black heels. With beaded clutch in hand, I headed out.
Gossipybut not terribly cattyfashion report
When I arrived, I was delighted to see that at least I hadn't under-dressed. I'm happy to report that my ensemble was quite the hit; it was one of those nights that I have occasionally when I feel quite the belle. As for the rest of the crowd, many of the men were in suits, some in tuxedos. Though I didn't see as many sparkly dresses as I have in the past, most of the women had pulled out something special to wear. You'll find a quick rundown of what and who I saw and, if you care to see accompanying pictures, find them here at my buddy Doug's website (and when you see me, just remember, the camera adds mumble mumble pounds...):
The banquet
Dinner: Menu choices included salmon, filet mignon or a vegetarian option. The steak was prepared very rare (yum!) with a dark wine sauce, asparagus spears and mashed potatoes. It was all savory and quite tasty, a far cry from the days of rubber chicken. Dessert (for me) was a pyramid-shaped chunk of chocolate decadence, which might as well have been called Hip-Widener on a Plate, but was so creamy and darkly sweet that it was irresistible. It was trimmed with a disc of chocolate with the initials "SFWA" (Science Fiction Writers of America) written on it in white chocolate. Ultimately the dessert was too rich even for me and I didn't finish it. The other dessert option was crème brulee, which I understand was also delicious.
The Nebula Awards ceremony
Astrid Bear, organizer of the event for Seattle, opened the festivities with thanks to the committee for doing such a great job and they deserved thanks. This was a fabulous weekend, much of the credit for which not only goes to the volunteers but to Astrid first and foremost for organizing it all. She then introduced the Toastmaster for the evening, the ever-reclusive Neal Stephenson.
As it turned out, for a recluse, Stephenson was remarkably funny and personable, with a desert-dry wit and a nice ability to keep things moving along. His central schtick for the evening was that, never having been a Toastmaster before, he did a Google search to learn more. He then hoisted chrome toaster onto the podium, plugged it in, whipped out a loaf of Wonder bread and began toasting bread to time the speakers. Quite entertaining.
Service awards were given to Ann Crispin and Michael Capobianco for their years of service to SFWA.
The keynote speaker was Rick Rashid, Senior VP of Microsoft Research, speaking on the relationship of science fiction to the development of cutting edge technology and the look/feel/function of the future. Of course, he presented his talk with PowerPoint, which became a source of great entertainment when some of the technology backfired on him. (Makes me proud to be a Microsoft contractor!) Nevertheless, his presentation was interesting and occasionally entertaining. It lasted perhaps ten minutes longer that it might have, but that didn't really bother me. It seems I didn't notice the passage of time as much as others did.
Harlan Ellison presented Robert Silverberg with this year's Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master Nebula Award. Harlan, in a rather sweet gesture, had hired a female trio called A Capella Go to serenade him with a finely harmonized rendition of "Unforgettable." On the screen set up in one corner of the room, a black-and-white slide showed a picture of Ellison and Silverberg looking very young and mod in late-sixties style. Silverberg accepted the award with a meditation on reading the masters of the genre as a kid and what it's like to be named one of them as an adult. He was well-spoken and there was certainly no false modesty in his speech. It was, in short, very much Silverberg.
The fiction awards presentations followed. Things went fairly quickly. As usual, Connie Willis was the one presenter whose presentation stood out. Connie's notorious for extending the suspense as long as possible when she presents any award, making witty remarks and in general being sweetly sadistic. This time in presenting the award for novelettes, she did it, rather, by quoting words and sentences from past winners. For myself, I was surprised by how many memories this reading stirred up for me. (For example, the mention of "Shroedinger's Kitten" reminded me of how I met George Alec Effinger for the first time the very night he wonrather poignant for me.) It was a lovely moment of tribute rather than teasing.
When Neil Gaiman won the Best Novella award for Coraline, Harlan Ellison stood to accept the award for him. He brought with him a speech FAXed to him by Gaiman, which he'd promised not to read until he got to the podium. At first, it was a gracious acceptance. Then Gaiman wrote that he had to pause to consider the opportunity of putting words into Harlan Ellison's mouth. For example, he could have Harlan talk about his appreciation for the Republican party. He could even make Ellison say "I am a science fiction writer!" Ellison huffed and fumfered his way through the speech, promising at its end that Gaiman wouldn’t be around much longer after that. Everyone was hugely entertained and, I suspect, in his heart of hearts, so was Ellison.
If there was one disappointment for me in the awards, it was that Adam's extraordinary story (which is linked to above and which appeared in Keith's anthology Imaginings) didn't win its category. It's a brilliant story, Adam at his best, and I'd been rooting for it. You can read all the Nebula nominee stories online if you're curious.
The post-banquet party was held in the hospitality suite, sponsored that night by Vonda McIntyre and Roc books. It was a fine party with good champagne. I got up there a little late, as I stopped beforehand to had a drink with my friend P, who was in from Maryland helping out as a volunteer and touring the Pacific Northwest. By the time I got upstairs, the party had slowed down a bit. I ended up sitting with Vonda for most of the time I was at the party, chatting with her, Keith, Jack McDevitt and a number of others. I turned into a pumpkin at about 1:00 AM (which astonished everyone; they stored me in a closet until I changed back), and headed home.
I'll attend to posting about Sunday at some point soon, more because I want to chronicle my preview, hard-hat tour of the Science Fiction Museum than because I want to chronicle the flea market shopping with Anne, Connie and Cordelia. At the moment, however, I'm out of words altogether (as you might imagine). More anon....
As stated here before, this year, the Awards were held in Seattle. I dithered for weeks about whether or not to spend the three-digit sum to attend the entire affair: panels, parties and awards banquet. As it turned out, I didn't have to. Anne Groell, Bantam Spectra's senior editor and my successor there, called me about two weeks beforehand and asked me if I'd like to join her at the Bantam table as a guest of my former employer. I happily accepted.
As I did with regard to Norwescon, I'm going to cut this report into day chapters, sparing those who aren't interested the need to scroll through pages on their Friends lists. Note that each chapter is fairly lengthy, so I've split those into parts with bolded headers, allowing you even more ways to read only what you want to, and to skip the chatter that may bore you. So here's my report:
Dinner with Anne
Whenever Anne and I are both at a convention, we make a point of getting together for what is usually a wonderfully girly, gossipy meal. This being my hometown, she asked that I recommend somewhere for dinner. We finally settled on Elliot's at Pier 56, a terrific seafood restaurant with views out to Elliot Bay. Though in Seattle everything is relative, Elliot's is one of the more upscale spots on the waterfront, so I made a point of dressing business casual for dinner. We asked for and received window seating so Anne could watch the sunset while we ate and caught up, and settled in with a bottle of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand (which I would recommend to anyone; this is the second time someone's recommended a New Zealand winehi twilight2000! and the second time I haven't been disappointed).
For appetizers she had the steamed clams (yum!); I had the potato-crusted goat cheese accompanied by roasted garlic, two kinds of chutney and a bottom layer of salad. Tasty, addictive, excellent. For dinner, I had the crab/shrimp crabcakes accompanied by mashed potatoes, asparagus spears and some sort of dark sauce that was just delicious. The crab cakes were dense but didn't feel heavy in the way that crab cakes usually do. They had a zing to them that I appreciated, possibly provided by the shrimp, certainly provided by extra spices of some kind. For dessert we shared a bowl of peanut butter cup ice cream. We talked abbout her upcoming nuptials, the tribulations of marrying someone from another country (in this case, Canada) and about the transition period I feel like I'm going through, all of which was fun and cathartic.
After the meal, we took a stroll along the waterfront. The evening was crisp and clear; traffic was minimal. I confirmed a report I'd heard from a penny-smashing friend that there are new penny-smashing machines all along the waterfront, rolled one set at Waterfront Landmark on Pier 55, and promised myself I'd come back to roll sets on all the new machines we saw as we strolled.
First night parties
Then we headed back to the Westin for the evening's parties. At this point, three days later, most of the first night party is a blur, but I know that I saw a number of old friends and a number of the weekend's stars (about whom more later). Anne and I had had just enough wine that for me, though it was fun to be there and fine to reconnect with old friends for the first time of the weekend, the party was a little too much icing on the cake. I had a great time, but around midnight I decided to cut out for the evening.
Saturday: Lunch with Keith
One of the highlights of my weekend was lunch with my friend Keith deCandido. Keith's a writer and editor, out for the event because an anthology he edited called Imaginings included a story that had been nominated for a Nebula ("A Sweet Slow Dance in the Wake of Temporary Dogs" by Adam-Troy Castro, a simply exquisite story about the price one might be willing to pay to live somewhere they loveif you're interested, read it here, gratis). I was delighted that he'd decided to come. With a request from girasole that I be sure to treat him to something special for his birthday fresh in my mind, I picked Keith up at the hotel and brought him out to Fremont for lunch at Blue C Sushi, where the tasty and freshly-made sushi travels about the restaurant on conveyor belts. He briefed me on everything he's working on, we gossiped about friends a bit (don't worry, suricattus, you're safe ::grin::), and in general had a wonderful time. After lunch, I treated Keith to birthday ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery, and then gave him a little walking tour of the Fremont neighborhood, stopping at the Rocket, Lenin's statue and the Fremont Bridge Troll, the last of which I think he appreciated best. At that point, we headed back to the hotel as I had a business meeting to attend.
A bit of business
As it happens, the business in question was about the freelance project I've been working on. It also happens that the folks I was meeting with were old friends, so the meeting was part business, part catch-up chatter. Of course, sitting in the hotel bar meant that we were interrupted several times by other friends coming over to say hello. Interestingly, one of those people was the woman who succeeded me at WizKids and a couple of my authors from the line there. Anything I might have to say about that, I'll reserve for private e-mail or conversation. After spending some time in the hospitality suite on the 39th floor (with spectacular views of the city and Elliot Bay) at the Foolscap tea, I headed home to change for the evening.
Saturday evening: Clothes craziness
The Nebula Awards is usually a fairly formal affair. Wanting to do something different and distinctive, I recently picked up this fabulous Cambodian silk wrap in black, plum and gold with black fringes. My plan was to wear it with a full-length burgundy-colored sheath with long kick pleat. When I finally put the whole thing on, though, the wrap was too orangey and I became freakishly concerned about clashing colors. Chickening out, I went instead with the sheer jacket that came with the sheath dress. I wore my great-grandmother's amythest-and-pearl encrusted broach, gold earrings and black heels. With beaded clutch in hand, I headed out.
Gossipybut not terribly cattyfashion report
When I arrived, I was delighted to see that at least I hadn't under-dressed. I'm happy to report that my ensemble was quite the hit; it was one of those nights that I have occasionally when I feel quite the belle. As for the rest of the crowd, many of the men were in suits, some in tuxedos. Though I didn't see as many sparkly dresses as I have in the past, most of the women had pulled out something special to wear. You'll find a quick rundown of what and who I saw and, if you care to see accompanying pictures, find them here at my buddy Doug's website (and when you see me, just remember, the camera adds mumble mumble pounds...):
- kijjohnson wore a fabulous tailored, muted green jacket nipped in at the waist, and black pants. She's wearing her hair dark red, chic and short with slightly retro black-framed glasses. Put all together, it had an almost 1940s glamor to it that I admired hugely. mckitterick accompanied her and kept his dress simple black and white; comfort was the priority and it went well.
- frabjousdave wore a black suit and tie with a burgundy-colored shirt simple and to the point, he looked quite dapper. Because the shirt was almost exactly the color of my gown, we looked as though we'd gotten the matching-clothing memo, which was entertaining.
- shellyinseattle wore her vintage black embroidered coat over a black turtleneck and, I think, black slacks. It's a smashing coat, which I very much covet. the_monkey_king ascribed to mckitterick's philosophy of "keep it simple," with a black suit and white shirt. "I wonder," I thought, "has he been losing weight? It looks quite fine."
- Grand Master Nebula Award recipient Robert Silverberg wore a beautifully tailored black suit with a purple shirt with French cuffs. Bob always looks meticulously well-dressed. His wife, Karen Haber, wore a red and white-polka-dotted dress, another 1940s inspired style that was quite flattering.
- Harlan Ellison wore black slacks and a simple blue pullover shirt, very casual for the Nebulas; there was something of the well-to-do retiree about him until he opened his mouth and declared my friend D's Matrix coat (and I quote) "the f*cking bomb!" Harlan doesn't really need to dress up, ever. His personality (as here demonstrated) overwhelms any fashion statement he might make in any case.
- Connie Willis wore a simple green gown with an unadorned square neckline, short sleeves and a full skirt. Her daughter Cordelia was very fashionable in an orange sheath with spaghetti straps and a handkerchief hemline of her own making that looked just stellar with her redhead's complexion.
- Betsy Mitchell, VP at Del Rey, wore a sequin-spangled tub top with spaghetti straps, a cashmere gold wrap and a slim, full-length black skirt. I suspect she may have been the sparkliest person present that night, but it was done so tastefully that she looked just perfect.
- And lastly, SFWA President/science fiction author/ballerina/scientist/over-achiever Catherine Asaro wore a very tight black and white dress with only one shoulder-strap. It was a remarkable piece of engineering, quite striking. I'm not sure I would have made such a choice (and am quite certain I couldn't have carried it off even if I did), but it was certainly interesting.
The banquet
Dinner: Menu choices included salmon, filet mignon or a vegetarian option. The steak was prepared very rare (yum!) with a dark wine sauce, asparagus spears and mashed potatoes. It was all savory and quite tasty, a far cry from the days of rubber chicken. Dessert (for me) was a pyramid-shaped chunk of chocolate decadence, which might as well have been called Hip-Widener on a Plate, but was so creamy and darkly sweet that it was irresistible. It was trimmed with a disc of chocolate with the initials "SFWA" (Science Fiction Writers of America) written on it in white chocolate. Ultimately the dessert was too rich even for me and I didn't finish it. The other dessert option was crème brulee, which I understand was also delicious.
The Nebula Awards ceremony
Astrid Bear, organizer of the event for Seattle, opened the festivities with thanks to the committee for doing such a great job and they deserved thanks. This was a fabulous weekend, much of the credit for which not only goes to the volunteers but to Astrid first and foremost for organizing it all. She then introduced the Toastmaster for the evening, the ever-reclusive Neal Stephenson.
As it turned out, for a recluse, Stephenson was remarkably funny and personable, with a desert-dry wit and a nice ability to keep things moving along. His central schtick for the evening was that, never having been a Toastmaster before, he did a Google search to learn more. He then hoisted chrome toaster onto the podium, plugged it in, whipped out a loaf of Wonder bread and began toasting bread to time the speakers. Quite entertaining.
Service awards were given to Ann Crispin and Michael Capobianco for their years of service to SFWA.
The keynote speaker was Rick Rashid, Senior VP of Microsoft Research, speaking on the relationship of science fiction to the development of cutting edge technology and the look/feel/function of the future. Of course, he presented his talk with PowerPoint, which became a source of great entertainment when some of the technology backfired on him. (Makes me proud to be a Microsoft contractor!) Nevertheless, his presentation was interesting and occasionally entertaining. It lasted perhaps ten minutes longer that it might have, but that didn't really bother me. It seems I didn't notice the passage of time as much as others did.
Harlan Ellison presented Robert Silverberg with this year's Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master Nebula Award. Harlan, in a rather sweet gesture, had hired a female trio called A Capella Go to serenade him with a finely harmonized rendition of "Unforgettable." On the screen set up in one corner of the room, a black-and-white slide showed a picture of Ellison and Silverberg looking very young and mod in late-sixties style. Silverberg accepted the award with a meditation on reading the masters of the genre as a kid and what it's like to be named one of them as an adult. He was well-spoken and there was certainly no false modesty in his speech. It was, in short, very much Silverberg.
The fiction awards presentations followed. Things went fairly quickly. As usual, Connie Willis was the one presenter whose presentation stood out. Connie's notorious for extending the suspense as long as possible when she presents any award, making witty remarks and in general being sweetly sadistic. This time in presenting the award for novelettes, she did it, rather, by quoting words and sentences from past winners. For myself, I was surprised by how many memories this reading stirred up for me. (For example, the mention of "Shroedinger's Kitten" reminded me of how I met George Alec Effinger for the first time the very night he wonrather poignant for me.) It was a lovely moment of tribute rather than teasing.
When Neil Gaiman won the Best Novella award for Coraline, Harlan Ellison stood to accept the award for him. He brought with him a speech FAXed to him by Gaiman, which he'd promised not to read until he got to the podium. At first, it was a gracious acceptance. Then Gaiman wrote that he had to pause to consider the opportunity of putting words into Harlan Ellison's mouth. For example, he could have Harlan talk about his appreciation for the Republican party. He could even make Ellison say "I am a science fiction writer!" Ellison huffed and fumfered his way through the speech, promising at its end that Gaiman wouldn’t be around much longer after that. Everyone was hugely entertained and, I suspect, in his heart of hearts, so was Ellison.
If there was one disappointment for me in the awards, it was that Adam's extraordinary story (which is linked to above and which appeared in Keith's anthology Imaginings) didn't win its category. It's a brilliant story, Adam at his best, and I'd been rooting for it. You can read all the Nebula nominee stories online if you're curious.
The post-banquet party was held in the hospitality suite, sponsored that night by Vonda McIntyre and Roc books. It was a fine party with good champagne. I got up there a little late, as I stopped beforehand to had a drink with my friend P, who was in from Maryland helping out as a volunteer and touring the Pacific Northwest. By the time I got upstairs, the party had slowed down a bit. I ended up sitting with Vonda for most of the time I was at the party, chatting with her, Keith, Jack McDevitt and a number of others. I turned into a pumpkin at about 1:00 AM (which astonished everyone; they stored me in a closet until I changed back), and headed home.
I'll attend to posting about Sunday at some point soon, more because I want to chronicle my preview, hard-hat tour of the Science Fiction Museum than because I want to chronicle the flea market shopping with Anne, Connie and Cordelia. At the moment, however, I'm out of words altogether (as you might imagine). More anon....