Hugos, Home, and Rejections


There is nothing going on at home this week.  I know.  My life should be more exciting than this.  It’s been over 100 degrees in Redlands, though, and so I’ve been hibernating in the air-conditioning as much as  possible.  A warmed-up dinner, a good book, a cozy husband, and a feisty kitten are the things happiness is made of lately.  And maybe some Doctor Who – Netflix just put up the latest season.  I like Peter Capaldi quite a lot as the Doctor – I liked him quickly too.

I have not felt able to speak much about the Hugo fiasco that has been going on all year.  I’m not in that world and I don’t follow the Fantasy industry as well as I should.  Those authors are mostly unfamiliar to me.  But it did give me a bit of glee to find that competence and diversity won out, and that petty hatred and ballot-fixing did not.  The Guardian has a lovely article on it, if you’re at all interested in the outcome:  Most notably, it seems that the Hugos have maintained their reputation and legitimacy.

It has been a few weeks of rejection (several stories returned), so I’ve been taking it easy on editing the novel.  I keep thinking I’ve become inured to the rejection, and then I get several all at once and I find it’s not actually any easier to take.  Not in large doses.  It’s harder to accept constructive criticism when you’re feeling crappy about it all, hence the snails-pace.  It will all happen eventually.  I’m not terribly worried about it.

And that’s it from the land of Here.  Sometimes no news is good news.

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