The winner was announced – No Award. A ripple of applause broke out. I realized that my hands had joined in on the applause.
Yes, I admit it. I’m not proud of it. I voted for a few No Awards myself. I wasn’t applauding for the nominees’ disappointment, or because I was having gleeful fantasies about cranial explosions, or for any perceived victories in some kind of convoluted culture war. I was applauding because the cheaters weren’t getting rewarded.
I mainly No Awarded ringleaders and people who stood to benefit financially from the cheating, and tried to be considerate of the writers dragged along in their wake. I’m glad Guardians of the Galaxy won, even though it was slated. I’m glad Three Body Problem won, even though the puppies liked it too. I’m happy with the proposed rule changes to discourage future slating.
I approached the voting like this: I’m nineteen, and I’m on my way to my crappy job/class/distraction, on the public transit. Upon a nearby seat, someone has left a compilation paperback, Hugo Winners of 2015. Curious and bored, I reach over and pick it up. Does the story I encounter make me want to read more science fiction? Or does it make me feel a different sensation – for example, some of the entries made me feel as though I had been sneezed on by a llama.
I am looking forward to next year’s entries. I might even be looking forward to attending next year’s Worldcon. I had a pretty good time, and I’ll tell you all about it in the next few posts.