Are the Hugos relevant?

I thought it was interesting that the Saturday night panel at ArmadilloCon last weekend on the subject of the Hugos was entitled "Are the Hugos Relevant?"

That's kind of a leading title, in my opinion, and it illuminates a certain mind-set. Now, Austin is not like most of Texas. Between the bureaucrats of the state government and the denizens of academia created by the University of Texas, it's much more like your typical bullshit East or West Coast political correctness enclave.

The title of the panel indicates the assumption of some people at least that because the "wrong types" of people got nominated for the Hugos this year, the award is no longer relevant. I think that's jumping the gun a bit; one panelist - Marguerite Reed - said of course the awards are still relevant, "or we wouldn't be talking about them."

In my opinion, the best outcome for the awards will be that at least one category gets No Awarded, thereby throwing a sop to the literary snobs. If the revenge backlash sought by the Puppy Kickers produces a long list of No Awards, then the awards will quickly slide off into oblivion. I mean, why participate in an award process where most of the categories were not presented?

A total Puppy sweep would probably produce a boycott from the Kickers who will redouble their attention towards the Nebulas, which is controlled by the SFWA and would never be subject to the kind of peasants' uprising that struck the Hugos this year.

Maybe one No Award, some wins for non-Puppy finalists in a few categories, a few Puppy wins - a mixed bag would be the best end for this year's internecine strife.

Some of the most vocal people in the Puppy Kicker camp should hope there is not a sweep of No Awards because they crossed the line in attacking some authors into that's called "exaction" under organized crime statutes. They threatened someone's income or livelihood. It's not extortion because no physical threat was employed, but when people say certain authors will never get published again, or that they will have to use a pen name in the future, they are committing exaction. Certain editors at Tor books - and one of the MCs at the Hugo ceremony - are guilty of this.

Of course,if the No Award threat fizzles, there'd be no cause for action in a court, but if an author - especially one who had a contract with Tor - loses out to No Award, they could sue for damages. That's probably the real reason Tom Doherty wrote the response he did to the hateful bilge sputtered by Irene Gallo about the Sad Puppies. His lawyers advised that he'd better distance Tor the company from its editors in case an exaction complaint is filed after the Hugo results are announced.

Free speech

Just a reminder, as we approach the end of the voting period for the Hugo awards, of the tone maintained by many of the opponents of this year's Sad Puppy finalists.

Brad, of course, refers to Brad Torgersen, who coordinated the assembly of this year's list of recommendations. He will not be able to attend the Hugo ceremony, insofar as he is in the military and currently deployed in the Middle East - protecting the right of fellow Americans to express their free speech opinions.

Different, not bad

One of the problem some people have in evaluating creative arts is that they don't know the difference between "different" and "bad". For example, I've always thought John Cage was a great musical innovator. I personally didn't like his works, but I occasionally listen to it, even "4'33"". I can recognize genius when I see it. I know it's different, but that doesn't mean it's bad.

One of the benefits - and drawbacks - of being privileged in society is that you don't get contradicted. Unless you are intelligent enough to realize your own limitations, you become either oblivious - or contemptuous - of different tastes.

I've noticed how many reviews and critiques of Hugo-nominated woks this year are being subjected to blatant hatchet jobs. A bystander might suppose these are being done in bad faith, but the truth is more depressing - these people simply don't understand people of different backgrounds.

If you have lived all your life privileged by birth, wealth, or political correctness, you may really have problems understanding different kinds of people.

A while back, I was a bit stunned - during an online discussion regarding the Sad Puppies - to find someone who didn't know "Gentleman's Agreement" is a pejorative term. It makes me wonder what social setting this person - very anti-Puppy - grew up in. I learned about Gentlemen's Agreements when I was very young. My father had a job transfer and my family had to move when I was 13. I noticed that as we looked for a home, real estate agents kept steering us to the same town on the South Shore of Massachusetts. I realized Italians weren't supposed to live in some towns. Years later, when I received a scholarship to attend an Ivy League school, I would see people whose social backgrounds were astoundingly inbred. I assumed they thought "The Addams Family" was a reality show.

Mind you, I know many people who are very different from me who are tolerant, pleasant and understanding. Oftentimes I trust and respect them more than people I should have natural sympathies with. If you are a Christian, conservative and straight and you get cheated, double-crossed or back stabbed by some hypocrite, you learn tolerance and respect really fast. You learn to appreciate an individual's quality of character. The absolute worst things done to me in life have been by people who should have been my colleagues based on religion and politics.

Socrates said "Know thyself." I know I have limitations based on my upbringing and life experiences. I think of these when I look at strange and new things. I try to be self-aware. Of course, being human I sometimes fail. But I try.

I would suggest that some people, in evaluating Hugo-nominated works, have been a bit harsh because they didn't understand, maybe didn't think to try to understand, what the author or artist was out to accomplish or wanted. That means the works may have been different, not necessarily bad.

"On a Spiritual Plain"

It's just about three weeks until the end of voting for the Hugo awards. I took some time Friday and made a video of myself reading "On a Spiritual Plain", if you would like to hear the story read by the author his own self. This takes 20 minutes.

(I picked the most quiet place I could find read it, which was the newspaper morgue room - which in our case happens to be an old bank vault.)

Kansas City chronicles - ConQuest 46

Normally, making such a long drive to attend a convention - my odometer told me it was a 996-mile round trip - would have been near impossible, but I took all day Friday (which is a slow day at work - the office normally closes at noon, anyway) and all day Monday (which was a holiday - the job was closed) to do it. Ultimately, the biggest problem turned out to be the thunderstorms I encountered in Oklahoma on the Indian Nation Turnpike both Friday and Monday afternoon. My first panel wasn't until 10 a.m. Saturday, so I could take my time Friday getting there.

By the time I confirmed I would be able to attend, the hotel's convention rooms were sold out. I instead came up with a plan to save some money, I stayed three nights at a Motel 6 at Prairie View Road and 83rd Street. This is north of the city near the airport. There's a bus line that goes from the airport down to 56th Street and Prairie View, and then hits the highway and goes straight into downtown. That's how I got to the Marriott downtown. My plan worked like a charm, I spent maybe $170 for three nights, and the bus fare was only $1.60 each trip. I avoided having to travel and park downtown in a city I'd never visited before.

The Heinlein "Good Old Stuff" I picked up at the ConQuest auction.

I had five panels Saturday, so I kept busy. I met a few people I haven't seen in a while, such as Robin Wayne Bailey, Bryan Thomas Schmidt and Allison Stein. I was on three panels with Bailey, and we also had a nice chat in the dealers' room about the work of Frank M. Robinson, who Robin said was his "adopted grandfather". Two of my panels were chaired by Schmidt, and we also got caught up somewhat. I last saw Allison in Oklahoma City last year at SoonerCon, and she was on the panel I chaired Sunday about the movie "Metropolis". She was nice enough to take my photo sitting on the mock-up of The Iron Throne in the dealers' room.

Speaking of the Iron Throne, George R.R. Martin was a guest at the convention, and the word in the halls was that his presence seemed to have boosted attendance. It was the wisdom that some people registered for the convention just so they could attend his book signing - whose line ran the length of the second floor of the hotel and back again. I'm sure ConQuest didn't mind any potential extra income.

I also met a few people I'd never met in the flesh before, such as Eric Reynolds, whose Hadley Rille books is publishing the "Ruins Excavations" anthology later this year. It includes my short story "Would Olympus Fall". Eric suffered a stroke last year and is in physical therapy now. He looked good but a bit frail, and I met him as he was slowly walking and taking therapy in a hall. He's a nice fellow and it was good to see him. I also met Rich Horton for the first time; we shared a panel.

One of the unanticipated highlights of the convention came at the  fundraising auction at 2 p.m. Sunday. I happened through the auction items on display just a few hours earlier and saw a neat lot of Robert Heinlein paperbacks, a dozen in all. Some were literally coming apart, but they were "The Good Old Stuff".

The titles are "Revolt in 2100", "The Puppet Masters", "The Green Hills of Earth", "The Man Who Sold the Moon",  "Orphans of the Sky", "Podkayne of Mars", "The Day After Tomorrow", "Farmer in the Sky", "Citizen of the Galaxy", "Starman Jones", "Between Planets" and "The Moon is a Harsh Mistress". All except the last were from the '50s and '60s.

I probably overpaid, based on the condition of the books, but I shelled out $45 to take them home.

I was a bit surprised at the spontaneous expressions of support I received at the convention from people sympathetic to the Sad Puppies cause. Although the party line narrative is to vilify the dissident movement, it's not quite as unfashionable among the rank-and-file fans, it seems. I went to the convention with a half dozen copies of "Letters from Gardner" - that's all I had on hand - and despite not having a signing, I sold them all. Some of the people claimed they only learned about the book because of the Pupps, and as a result of the discussion were supportive. At one panel I got a clenched first "Go Pupps!" salute.

Attendance at the panels I was on was a bit spotty. Of the seven I had all weekend, four had at least a two dozen people, two had a dozen, and two had a half dozen. Attendance definitely seemed to drop off towards Sunday. My reading was at 3 p.m. Sunday and I wondered whether I should skip it because nobody would be there. But three hardy souls attended. All either already had bought copies of "Letters" or wanted to buy one. I ran out of copies and missed a sale - authors hate when that happens.

I read "On a Spiritual Plain", and I was done with my programming just after 3:30 p.m.

One of the practical things I did while at the convention was upgrade my membership for SasQuan from supporting to attending. They offered a $20 discount if it was done at the con. I also had a nice chat with the people at the table. I told them of my belief, because of the mob mentality being fostered by some people against the Pupps, that they should just announce the winners and forget the dinner. But they are aware of the possibility of unpleasantness and plan to keep a tight rein on things. I wish them luck. I hope I get out of Spokane in one piece.

One person I ran into at the con said he has suggested that, to prevent catcalls, boos and jeering, that the Hugo committee announce in advance which categories will not have an award this year, and the ceremony only deal with the presentations to winners. That sounds like a good idea, also.

Some surprises

Some people who have gone into reviews of stories that made the Hugo ballot through the efforts of the Sad Puppies have an obvious bias and start off with a bad attitude, but I've seen at a couple of cases where, in these reviews, aspects of "On a Spiritual Plain" surprised them

For example:

"I have to admit that I was surprised to find this kind story on both of the Puppy slates. Their mission statement was to bring manly fun and rousing adventure back to SFF, but instead they offer here a calm and quiet story...."

and

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the chaplain, although a Methodist, serves all the Terran religions on the planet.  After the death of the second man, a Hindu, the chaplain "called up a copy of the Bhagavata Purana and read it."  ... The Sad Puppies are on record as disliking calls for diversity in fiction, but, as this story shows, perhaps there's a little leeway here."

The (type) written word

Ok, to mark the occasion of the Hugo voting, I am going to do something a little different. I have found the start of my Hugo-nominated "On a Spiritual Plain" that I typed at a table in the dealers' alley at the GalaxyFest convention in February 2013. I banged out 12 pages on my Smith-Corona Classic 12 portable manual typewriter before heading back to Texas.

Once home, I scanned the 12 pages and converted them to text, and completed the story in Microsoft Word. Here's my idea: Since there are 12 weeks until the end of the Hugo voting period, each week from now until the end of July I am going to give away one of the original typewritten pages. You can compare each page with that passage in the completed story, if you wish. You can just stare at the page and wonder at obsolete technology.

If you want to be considered this week, just like this post or make a comment below. I will announces the first winner next Saturday, May 9. If you are the lucky winner, I will personally sign and mail the page to you!

I will start on Page 12 and work my way forward, so on July 31st I will send off the title page.

An orphan of the storm

As a result of the decision of two people to have their works removed from the Hugo ballot, the Hugo committee moved two other works up in the ranks and then closed the ballot yesterday

I think closing the ballot at this time was a smart idea; it's obvious that the SF establishment was "leaning on" — as they say in the Mafia — people to drop off the ballot. The longer this campaign of blackmail and threats continued, the more likely the ballot was to be unsettled.

One tidbit of information which caught some eagle eyed observers by surprise came from the updating of the nominating ballot range released by the Hugo committee. Although the actual number of nominations for each work is not released until after the awards are presented, upon the presentation of the ballot the range of the number of ballots for successfully nominated works is released.

For example, the range of nominations as released yesterday for the short story finalists was 132-226, which means whatever story got the most nominations had 226 and whoever finished fifth had 132. As a result of the update, you would expect the lower range to drop because whatever story originally finished sixth was moved up. However in the case of the short story category, the higher number also dropped, from 230.

I'm not a statistician, but I'm also not the only person who saw that and realizes it may mean that “Goodnight Stars” by Annie Bellet, which she withdrew, may have had the most nominations overall.

Having the most nominations is not a guarantee of finally winning the award, but honestly I thought I did well to make the ballot in light of competition and her story had a very good shot if not the best shot at actually winning the award. The fact that she may have lost this opportunity to win a Hugo because the smear campaign conducted by the SF establishment is reprehensible.

I've had more than one person urged me not to withdraw from the ballot. I'm a stubborn old cuss and I never seriously considered it. But I feel very sorry that Annie felt so buffeted by the storm. I did not know who she was or about her story before the nomination, so the nomination had some benefit for me. I hope she heals from this experience.

Hugo challenges

From Mike Glyer at File 770:

Sasquan, the 2015 Worldcon, has made changes to the final Hugo ballot to reflect  eligibility rulings by Hugo administrator John Lorentz.

“Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus” by John C. Wright was previously published on a web site in 2013 prior to its inclusion in The Book of Feasts & Seasons in 2014, so it is not eligible for the 2015 Novelette Hugo. Replacing Wright’s novelette on the ballot is “The Day The World Turned Upside Down” by Thomas Olde Heuvelt (Lightspeed Magazine, April 2014).

Jon Eno did not publish any qualifying artwork in 2014, so he is not eligible for the 2015 Professional Artist Hugo Kirk DouPonce has been elevated to take Eno’s place in the Best Professional Artist category.

Lorentz also reviewed the eligibility of two other works and allowed them to stand: Both Big Boys Don’t Cry (Kratman) and One Bright Star to Guide Them (Wright) were previously published in much shorter versions, and were significantly expanded to novella-length in their 2014 publication. Following previous precedents, for the purposes of the 2015 Hugos they are designated as new works.

---

Please note the disqualified John C. Wright story was not a Sad Puppy recommendation, but was part of the copycat Rabid Puppies slate.

It's good to see the Hugo admin exercising due diligence with the ballot before it goes out to voters.

This is the third Hugo nomination in a row for Heuvelt , 32, who was a finalist in the same category in 2013 and a finalist in the Short Story category last year. John C. Wright, who had a whopping six nominations this year, drops down to five.

Texas author finalist for literary award

Internationally-renowned science fiction and fantasy author Lou Antonelli of Mount Pleasant is a nominee for the 2015 Hugo Awards, the premier awards in the Science Fiction field, given annually for over 50 years in over a dozen categories, including best books, stories, dramatic works, professional and fan activities.

The Hugos are given annually for the best science fiction or fantasy works and achievements of the previous year, organized and overseen by the World Science Fiction Society. The awards are given each year at the annual World Science Fiction Convention as the central focus of the event. The 2015 Hugo Awards will be presented at 73rd Worldcon, which is being held August 19-23, 2015 in Spokane, Washington, where the announcement originated via live streaming video at noon Pacific Daylight Time Saturday, April 4.

Antonelli is a double finalist for both the Best Short Story and Best Related Work, a non-fiction category. His short story, “On a Spiritual Plain”, was published by the Australian-based magazine Sci-Phi Journal. His non-fiction book, “Letters from Gardner”, was published by the Merry Blacksmith Press of Providence, Rhode Island, and features short stories plus correspondence from Gardner Dozois, long-time editor of Asimov’s Science Fiction. The book covers a year-and-a-half period when Antonelli was trying to break into the science fiction field.

In addition to being a rare double finalist, this marks only the fifth time in the award’s 60-year history where an author was nominated in both a fiction and non-fiction category in the same year; the most recent occasion was in 2008.

One of the most prestigious science fiction awards, the Hugos have been termed as "among the highest honors bestowed in science fiction and fantasy writing". The awards are named after Hugo Gernsback, the founder of the pioneering science fiction magazine Amazing Stories.

“I am incredibly honored and humbled by the recognition from fellow authors and science fiction fans,” Antonelli said.

He is a journalist and the managing editor of The Clarksville Times in Red River County, Texas. He is a member of the Science Fiction Writers of America (SFWA) as well as the Society for the Advancement of Speculative Storytelling (SASS).

"Author has book signing in Mount Pleasant"

Here is a copy of a news release I sent off to local news outlets about my book signing tomorrow:

--

Internationally-renowned science fiction and fantasy author Lou Antonelli will have a book signing at Hasting Entertainment in Mount Pleasant from 1-3 p.m. Saturday, April 4.

Published by The Merry Blacksmith Press of Providence, Rhode Island, “Letters from Gardner” features short stories plus correspondence from Gardner Dozois, long-time editor of Asimov’s Science Fiction. The book covers a year-and-a-half period when Antonelli was trying to break into the science fiction field. He submitted 16 stories to Dozois, who had been editor of Asimov’s since 1985, before making his first sale. Dozois retired after accepting “A Rocket for the Republic” in 2004. The book reproduces the correspondence between the editor and author.

“I was the last person who ever went through this process with Dozois at Asimov’s, which is why I thought it needed to be chronicled,” Antonelli said.

The book also covers how the stories were edited and revised after crossing Dozois’ desk as a result of his input, also making it a writer’s manual. All of the submitted stories except one were later published in other venues. Antonelli subsequently has had 92 short stories and three collections published across the globe.

At 2 p.m. Saturday Antonelli will watch a live streaming feed for the Hugo Awards, given annually for the best science fiction or fantasy works and achievements of the previous year, organized and overseen by the World Science Fiction Society. The awards are given each year at the annual World Science Fiction Convention as the central focus of the event. The 2015 Hugo Awards will be presented at 73rd Worldcon, which is being held August 19-23, 2015 in Spokane, Washington, where the announcement will be made. Antonelli will be available for interviews afterwards.

He is a journalist and the managing editor of The Clarksville Times in Red River County, Texas. He is a member of the Science Fiction Writers of America (SFWA) as well as the Society for the Advancement of Speculative Storytelling (SASS).

"Letters from Gardner - A Writer's Odyssey" contains 16 stories and is 246 pages long. It is available through Amazon or directly from the publisher, Merry Blacksmith Press, at orders@merryblacksmith.com.

Who let the Sad Puppies out?

I have not been one of the organizers of the Sad Puppies project, a recommended reading slate for the Hugo awards, but I have two entries on it, in the Short Story and Best Related Work categories.

The name of the project is a jab at unreasoning emotional appeals to thoughtless entimentality, I believe. I didn't even know about the first year. Last year it caught my attention. I was unhappy when I saw its recommended list didn't have any suggestions for short stories, which is mostly what I've done over the past dozen years.

Last year things got interesting when seven of its 12 suggested works made the Hugo ballot, including a novelette by Theodore Beale (Vox Day), a prolific blogger who has has expressed views that have made him infamous in s-f circles.

None of the Sad Puppies recommendations won in their categories, and even Beale seemed to chuckle at himself as his work came in sixth in a field of five - since "No Choice" is a voting option. But the hounds (puppies, I mean) had been loosed.

Sad Puppies had been organized, I believe by Larry Correia, who is one of those authors who writes for his readers and otherwise doesn't care what you think. This year Day split off to do his own thing, and came up with a slate called the Rabid Puppies. Correia handed off organizing the third incarnation of Sad Puppies to Brad Torgersen, who was one of the nominees last year. I know Brad from SASS, the small semi-pro writers group we both belong to.

Brad did a very thorough job of soliciting and compiling a slate of recommended reading for Sad Puppies 3. The choices were made with an eye towards encouraging a greater appreciation of authors who have been overlooked or shunted aside by the greater s-f community.

This year's slate of recommended works offers people an excellent line-up of top notch, mind bending science fiction in the finest tradition. They seem to have reacted well, and predictions are the Sad Puppies recommendations may make up a large percentage of the final Hugo ballot.

In a time when typical literary s-f is dystopian slipsteam pornography, it's nice to be reminded that there is still core s-f out there. I took a few minutes this afternoon to read my story which is on the Sad Puppies slate, "On a Spiritual Plain", with the Kindle I was given for Christmas.

This was the first time this old troglodyte read a story on a Kindle. Somehow reading it from this new medium, which is the way so many people have probably read it, made me look at it in a whole new light. As I went along, I though to myself, "Hey, this IS pretty good!"

If Sad Puppies got more people to read it, as well as my book nominated in the Best Related Work category, "Letters from Gardner", more power to the pups!

I'm proud and happy to have been a part of the Sad Puppies 3 slate. The formal announcement of the ballot finalists will be made on Saturday, April 4. Authors have already been contacted, but the formal announcement is embargoed until then.

My prediction is that Sad Puppies will take 30 percent of the nominees in the writing categories, while the more hardcore Rabid Puppies slate will take half as many, 15 percent. That will give Puppies of either stripe 45 percent of the total noms. Bear in mind, Vox Day repeated a number of Sad Puppy suggestions, so that number includes some overlap. For example, while I was in contact with Brad as he prepared Sad Puppies, I had nothing to do with Day's picks. But he picked up both my works.

We'll see how it goes. I can't imagine how a volunteer project that encourages people to read more s-f, and a more diverse and varied selection of s-f, can hurt. Of course, people will make up their own minds as they vote on the final ballot, but a great deal of good has already been done.

Brad and his pack of pups are to be commended! Good boy! WOOF!

On a Spiritual Plain

The deadline for The Hugo Awards nominations is March 10. My story, "On a Spiritual Plain", which was published in issue No. 2 of Sci-Phi Journal last year, is on the Sad Puppies recommended reading slate. Here is is:

---

The alien cleric gestured for us to come closer.  I pressed my back up against his bulk, and drew my knees under my chin.  "Thank you," I said simply.

Around us, the various clan groups were drawing together--their masses the only thing breaking the gray monotony of the planet’s polar plain.  Ymilans on pilgrimage traditionally slept clustered together--including ghosts of the dead.  The spirit of Joe McDonald stared at Dergec and me, still somewhat uncomfortable by what was going on.  I beckoned to him. "C'mon, Joe, you're with us," I said.

The ghost of the dead human scooted over to us.   He sidled up beside me, his back against the Ymilan cleric.  Dergec became dormant--Ymilans really don't sleep in the human sense--and I eventually began to drift off myself.   Joe didn’t move.  I didn’t know if he was asleep.  Do the dead sleep?   Can the dead sleep?

#

Compared to Earth, Ymilas has an energetic planetary core, and the planet has a very strong magnetic field.   Its ionosphere is constantly permeated with brilliant auroras.

The planet, however, is spectacularly bereft of minerals useful to Terrans, and there would be no reason to visit it, except for it being near a wormhole.

Some Terrans also find the Ymilans interesting.

Unlike Earth, Ymilas has only one sentient life form.  The Ymilans have a low-tech highly-ritualized culture.  Their religion is genuinely unique because the living and the spirits of the dead coexist side by side.

Dergec is the chief cleric of the continent where our Terran base is located.  After my posting there as Base Chaplain, we spoke frequently and found a surprising amount of common ground.   The Ymilans believe--as do many Terran religions--that each individual has a spark of an eternal extra-dimensional over-arching consciousness that is imbued in each of them at birth and ultimately returns to a higher dimensional plane when the physical form is no longer viable.

I told him we call it the “soul”.

They also know--I won’t say believe because the evidence was obvious on Ymilas--that while alive we develop an electromagnetic imprint as a result of the experiences of life that survives after death.  I told Dergec an ancient Terran religion had the same belief, and in fact built elaborate pyramids and tombs filled with personal belongings to keep those spirits happy.

The ancient Egyptians called that type of a spirit the “Ba”.  The Ymilans call them Helpful Ancestors, and they are considered part of one’s extended family.

I explained Earth’s weak magnetic field apparently allows most of our spirits to dissipate, “Although there were many cultures on Earth that believed their ancestors were a part of their everyday lives," I said.  "But you couldn't interact with them."

 "But are you sure of that?" said Dergec, with the Ymilan equivalent of a smile. “Don’t you have a type of literature called The Ghost Story?”

He was smart as well as wise.

#

This first Terran base had less than 50 people.  Because of the isolation and sparse conditions, it was traditional for the Service to “suggest” a posting to the planet.

Although most people went along with being “volunteered”, after the suggestion was made I agreed willingly.  I was single and so nobody else had to suffer with me; I thought it would be worthwhile experience for a young Methodist minister.

Dergec was always polite if not a little bit bemused when I peppered him with questions. "A mutant race like yours asks a lot of simple questions," he said.

The Ymilans were comfortable being a race with both physical and spiritual members and had evolved with sensory organs that could both detect and communicate with their spiritual world.  When Dergec learned of humans' inabilities in that regard, he was compassionate.

One thing I had noticed in passing was that I never heard of an Ymilan extended family of the dead going back more than six generations.  I made a mental note to ask Dergec why these ancestral houses didn't extend back farther.

That "note" was the first thing I thought of when Joe McDonald's ghost appeared to me.

#

Joe was an average Service "grunt”, just another face under the dome.   He never had come to me for any counseling or help--until after he died.

I had been updating my sermonblog when I heard the base emergency siren.  I ran out and saw a large shipping container swaying back and forth from a crane, a body lying on the floor beneath.

Apparently Joe took a left when he should have taken a right and walked just close enough to the edge of the container as it was being swung around that it clipped him.  The sharp corner punctured his helmet and crushed in his temple.  The light was gone from his eyes by the time I reached him.
His base file did not indicate any religious preference.

That night, I noticed the lights flicker briefly in my quarters--not terribly uncommon, our shielding constantly battled to protect our tech from the strong Ymilan magnetic field.  I did think it strange, though, that the lights flickered from white to blue, and back to white again.

During the next few minutes I got the strangest crawling or burning sensation on my skin.  Despite its violent climate--or perhaps because of it--Ymilas does not lack for water.  I thought it would help to take a nice, hot shower.

When I left the bathroom, gusts of steam poured into my bedroom--and I saw Joe.

He gestured, looking alternately angry and scared.  Despite the fact I was speaking to a ghost, his look of discomfort and anxiety was so pronounced my natural pastoral reaction was to put him at ease.  “It’s OK, Joe, I’ll help you any way I can.  Stay here with me.”

I commed the base Commander.   "A quick question," I asked.   "Was Joe McDonald the first human die on Ymilas?"

"Why yes, he was. Why do you ask?"

"He's here in my quarters.  He's become his own Helpful Ancestor."

The Commander cursed, then asked "What do we do now?"

"I don' know about 'we'," I said, "but I have some counseling to do, and then I call Dergec."

I turned off my lights, and as I hoped, Joe appeared as a dimly lit apparition, as ghosts do on Earth.
I determined--through questions on my part and nods and gestures on his--that he understood his spirit was somehow trapped.  "Did you ever see the container?" I asked.

He shook his head vigorously, looking very sad.

"Did you look at your death?"  He nodded, slowly.
I commed Dergec,  and explained what happened.  "I will be there as soon as I can," he said.

I spoke to Joe again. “We will get through this. I know on Earth, when we die, the soul leaves the body and moves on to the afterlife.  Things are different here, but my friend the Ymilan priest will help us.”
Joe made a gesture of helplessness.  “It’s my job to deal with spiritual matters, thanks for coming to me,” I said.  “We will get through this together.”

My port signaled. "That must be Dergec."

The Ymilan was far too large to enter my quarters.  I stepped outside, assuming Joe followed me, as there was no way I could see him as we stepped into the light.

Dergec looked to the side of me and addressed Joe directly. "What is your name, my friend?"   He paused for a moment, then replied, "Your proper name is Joseph, then?"

I realized Dergec could speak directly to Joe, just as he could to his own ancestors. Despite the fact I listened to a one-sided conversation, I could tell Joe was relieved to be able to make himself easily understood.

"I understand your discomfort, your people do not exist this way," said Dergec to Joe.
"Can you help Joe to move on?" I asked Dergec.

Then with a start, I remembered that "mental note" I had made to myself.

 "Sir," I said, using an untranslatable word that is an extreme Ymilan honorific, "I have observed that your Helpful Ancestors do not go back many generations." I paused.  "Is there a way for them to move on?"

“Since when I first learned about the spiritual nature of your people,” he said, “I knew this day would come.”

#

Our lone base on Ymilas is located near the equator, where the electrical storms are the weakest.   The planet's magnetosphere dips down at the poles.  It was Dergec who suggested using the specially shielded segway for my own protection.

The Commander raised her voice.  "You want to take a Faraday segway on what?"

 "A pilgrimage, Ma’am."

"Why?  Whose idea is this?"

"Monsignor Dergec," I said, using the closest human word to the Ymilan title.  "We need to make a pilgrimage to the north polar plain so the soul of Joe McDonald can move on.  We have no idea how the ground level magnetic field at the pole would affect an unshielded human.”

"I have one Faraday segway, if you wreck it, we won’t have another one for months, until it is requisitioned, approved and shipped.”

"Bureaucracy is your problem,” I snapped.  “Do you want a haunted base?”

On cue, her case folder slid off his desk and slammed on the floor.  The Commander jumped up from her seat.  "I felt something on the back of my neck!"

I sighed. "Do you believe my ghost story or not?"

She began to type on her desktop.  "Take your segway, take the Ymilan, take Joe, get out of here.  I don't want to hear any more about this."

Dergec was waiting outside. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Yes, despite a little reluctance from the Commander.”

"Joseph accompanied you."

"I know, the Commander's hemming and hawing infuriated him enough that he was able to manifest himself a bit."

"I have noticed that human emotions generate spiritual turmoil," said Dergec.

"I'm a little angry myself," I said. "But that won't help things."

Dergec turned around and plodded off.  "Let us begin our journey.”

#

The Ymilans have well-worn trails to the polar region where the magnetic field bends down to the surface.  There the Helpful Ancestors can dissipate.

The Ymilan pilgrimage trails loop and wind, because they need to avoid serious fault zones, another result of that active planetary core.

Dergec said the journey would take 12 Terran days.  Like everyone in the colonial Service, I maintained Earth days.  Ymilas’ sun had contracted in the distant past, and the planet's orbit has adjusted as a result.  It was that gravitational disturbance that had shifted its core into such an active state.

We were joined by other clan groups along the way.  Dergec led the way, and Joe, of course, had no trouble keeping up.  I brought up the rear of our little group, my treads grinding along the slate gray landscape.  There were caravanserais at regular distances.  Clusters of pilgrims gathered and parted along the way.

The other Ymilans were fascinated to see the first humans on a pilgrimage.  It is an accepted part of their life and society and they accepted our participation with great equanimity.  Dergec spoke often to Joe, who seemed “talkative” enough in his current state.

During one stop, Dergec said some Ymilans expressed something akin to admiration for Joe and myself.  "They are proud of you," he said.  "They say humans are finally Ymilans now."

Of course, I couldn’t see Joe, but it was usually obvious from Dergec's "body language"--a strange term considering how different Ymilans are from humans--where Joe was.  I spoke to Joe whenever I could, and when necessary, Dergec repeated Joe's side of the conversation.

I noticed about the halfway point that Dergec's interactions with Joe began to diminish. "Joseph is speaking with Helpful Ancestors now,” said Dergec.

“Is he away from us?” I asked.

“Yes, he is with that clan over there,” he said gesturing.

“Why does a Helpful Ancestor finally decide to make the journey?" I asked him.

"The closest word in your language would be futility," said Dergec.  "Our term might be translated as understanding that your role in the material world is over.”

I took the opportunity to ask a question.  “Does he realize that this trip means extinction,” I said. “That his soul has already flown, he is just a ghost?”

“No.  That is something you must work out amongst yourselves,” said Dergec.  “It is not proper for me to interfere in the spiritual matters of another species.”

“Your Helpful Ancestors don’t seem to mind trekking towards dissipation,” I said.

“We are a mature race,” he said.  “I would be cautious is discussing it with Joseph, though.”
"How is Joe taking the attention from the Helpful Ancestors?"

"I believe he is enjoying it," said the wise cleric. “He did not receive much attention from his own kind in life."

The severity and frequency of the electrical storms increased as we neared the Ymilan pole.  I monitored and inspected my Faraday segway more than ever.  The pilgrimage route meandered through a landscape of diminishing hills until, on the 11th day we hiked over a ridge and saw--nothing.

"It is another day's journey across flatlands to the Temple of Release," said Dergec.

As our caravan of pilgrims marched across the plain, we began to line up abreast of each other.   Despite the many dissimilarities between the two planets, one thing Ymilas has in common with Earth is a tilted axis, and therefore seasons--as well as long polar days.

This was the depth of the polar night, and the dark grayness of the sky matched the cold gray slate that made up the polar plain.  In the darkness I could now see all the Helpful Ancestors as well as Joe.  He marched near Dergec and me, but within a cluster of the Ymilan ancestors.

It was obvious he was in a position of honor amongst them, but when everyone stopped for the "night", all the Ymilans went back to their individual clan groups, which is why Joe was left alone and off to the side when Dergec and I stopped to sleep.

There was no indication of any danger so I slipped out of the Faraday cabin and sat down as Dergec gestured for me to come closer.  Joe looked at me.

"C'mon, Joe, you're with us."

Joe nudged himself between Dergec and me, and stopped moving,  I didn’t know if he was asleep.
“Do the dead sleep?  Can the dead sleep?”  I repeated to myself.

Dergec turned his head to me.  I didn’t realize I had spoken out loud.

"He sleeps the sleep of the dead,” said Dergec. “You would call it meditation. His mind is empty."
Dergec settled down into his posture of dormancy and I drifted off to sleep myself on that dark plain with the spirits of the alien dead--and one man.

#

Dergec stirred himself and I clamped myself in the cabin of the segway.

“We will be there soon,” he said to us.

He turned aside and spoke to Joe.  “Are you at peace, my brother?”

I could tell from Dergec’s body language Joe answered in the affirmative.  “It is well, then,” said Dergec. “Let us finish.”

As the long parallel line moved forward towards the unseen destination, I noticed the general grayness began to brighten.  After a while, I instinctively looked up.  There, high in the sky, was a glowing grayish green vortex of auroral light.  Dergec turned as Joe had obviously spoken to him.  “Yes, the Temple of Release is directly below it.”

I knew the polar magnetic vortex would be the location of the weakness in the magnetic field that would allow Joe’s “Ba” to dissipate, but I had no idea it would be visible.

“It looks like the eye of God,” I thought.

As the polar night began begin to imperceptibly brighten because of the glow, I soon was unable to tell where Joe was among us.

A few hours later, the plain was clearly lit by the glow of the “Eye” and I realized the previously uninterrupted flatness of the landscape was broken now by something rising directly ahead of us in the distance.

As we approached I saw it was an obviously artificial structure, and as we neared even closer, I saw it consisted of an enormous circle of upright blocks with the dimensional ratio of 1: 4: 9--the Golden Mean.  The lintels were of the same dimensions, and it was with a shock I realized that, except for the size and preciseness, the structure was essentially of the same design of Stonehenge back on Earth.
The actual size was the biggest distinction.  Although it was hard to judge at first, as we approached I saw the structure was more than 1,000 Terran feet high.

As we neared it, the various Ymilan clans began to bunch up as they would have to pass through the openings.  Dergec turned to Joe.  “This is the point of no return,” he said.

I turned in the same direction as Dergec.  “Are you okay with this, friend?  You ready to go home?”
There was a pause, and then Dergec said “He is fearful, but ready.”  He paused and continued.  “Joseph said he wants you to know he appreciates your kindness, but he knows nothing awaits him.  He learned the true nature of the pilgrimage from the Helpful Ancestors.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t...”

“He says it is good, he realizes there is nothing left for him here, and he would rather be nothing than a ghost on a strange world,” said Dergec.  “He said the others have given him courage.  He hopes his immortal soul has already reached your heaven.”

“I know it has, Joe,” I said, my voice cracking a bit.  “I have faith in that, that’s my job. To have faith.”

“Joe says he likes that,” said Dergec.

The other Ymilans on either side of us began to move forward.  “Let us go, then,” said Dergec.
We passed between a pair of giant uprights and passed inside the circle.  There was nothing there but another caravanserai.

I turned to Dergec.  “What happens next?”

“Nothing,” he said. “He is gone. They are all gone.”

“What!  That’s it?”

“There is no ceremony, if that is what you mean,” he said.  “The composition of these stones provides the shielding necessary to allow the dissipation.”

He turned to me.  “I’m sorry, I forget your people put a great deal of stock in theater and rituals, which is to be expected in such an immature race.  We take this process for granted.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We stop and rest and sleep, and then begin the trip home,” said Dergec.

#

When I was back at the base and I filed my report with the Commander. “This opens up a whole new issue in the Colonial Relations Division.”

“Yes, but  it was inevitable, if we stay on this planet,” I said.

“Well, you’ve done well as the lone chaplain on a base with many different religions,” she said. “This is just another issue you have to finesse.”

“For the time being, let’s not file a report,” I said.  “If this problem arises again, I’ll deal with it  personally.”

“Of course, all religion is personal,” she said.  “And I don’t want anything to leave the base that will bring bureaucrats down to us.”

She paused.  “And speaking of leaving the base, where is your condition report of the Faraday segway?  Is it back in inventory?”

#

Raju Bopardikar was not a grunt, but a low-level clerk in the transportation office.  He was drunk off his butt one night in the rec bar when he started hitting on a pretty Brazilian girl, whose boyfriend didn’t take kindly to his attentions, and was just as drunk as Raju--and a lot meaner.

The jealous boyfriend had a knife hidden in his boot, and before anyone could do anything, he slashed Raju across the abdomen.  Everyone grabbed the attacker, but his deep cut severed Raju’s abdominal aortic artery, and he bled out in a few minutes.

When I heard what had happened, I checked the base records, and then called up a copy of the Bhagavata Purana and read it until Raju appeared in my quarters.

I had to speak to Raju like anyone who is in deep shock, and with great patience explained the process I had gone through with Joe.

As I was counseling him, Dergec commed me.  “I learned of another death,” he said. “Can I help?”

“I think we can handle this ourselves,” I said, nodding to Raju.  “You don’t have to come on the pilgrimage.  Raju is one of us, and we can take care of ourselves.”

“I will assist in any way you need,” he said.

“Thank you, friend,” I said, “but we will make this journey ourselves.”

I turned to Raju.  “I know the way.”

-The End-

The Hugo Wars: How Sci-Fi’s Most Prestigious Awards Became A Political Battleground

Larry Correia

I am reposting this because it is a very cogent summation of this particular controversy. If you would like to read the article at its original location, here is the link:

by ALLUM BOKHARI
and MILO YIANNOPOULOS
Breitbart.com.
Few walks of life are today immune to the spectre of political intolerance. At universities, speaker disinvitations and censorship campaigns are at an all-time high. In technology, there are purges of chief executives with the wrong political views and executives who make the wrong sort of joke. In the world of video games, petitions are launched against “offensive” titles, and progressive journalists wage smear campaigns against conservative developers.
It may not, therefore, surprise you to learn that similar occurrences are taking place in the science-fiction and fantasy (SFF) community, too. Previously a world renowned for the breadth of its perspectives, SFF increasingly bears the familiar hallmarks of an ideological battleground.
The story begins, as ever, with a small group of social justice-minded community elites who sought to establish themselves as the arbiters of social mores. This group would decide who deserved a presence in SFF and who deserved to be ostracised.
Their victims are littered across the SFF community. In 2013, the Bulletin of the Science Fiction Writers of America (SFWA) were targeted by a shirtstorm-like cyber-mob of digital puritans after one of their cover editions was deemed to be “too sexual.” The controversy did not die down until two of its most respected writers, Mike Resnick and Barry Malzburg, were dismissed from the publication. This occurred despite a vigorous counter-campaign by liberal members of the sci-fi community, including twelve Nebula award winners and three former presidents of the SFWA.
Unfortunately, the current crop of elite figures in the SFF community have become either apologists or out-and-out cheerleaders for intolerance and censorship. Redshirts author John Scalzi, a close friend of  anti-anonymity crusader Wil Wheaton – was head of the SFWA at the time of the controversy and quickly caved in to activist pressure. This was unsurprising, given that he shared many of their identitarian views.
But Scalzi is, if anything, merely the moderate ally of a far more radical group of community elites. He hasn’t gone nearly as far as former SFWA Vice President Mary Kowal, who handles political disagreement by telling her opponents to “shut the fuck up” and quit the SFWA. Or former Hugo nominee Nora Jemisin, who says that political tolerance “disturbs” her. Or, indeed, the prolific fantasy author Jim C. Hines, who believes that people who satirize religion and political ideologies (a very particular religion, and a very particular ideology, of course) should be thrown out of mainstream SFF magazines.
Most of these people are small fry compared to the true big beasts of the SFF world, like Neil Gaiman, George R.R. Martin, or J.K. Rowling. But through a mix of obsessive politicking in institutions like the SFWA and the familiar whipping up of social-justice outrage mobs online, they have been able to exert disproportionate influence.
Today, no one is safe. Right-wingers like Theodore Beale face ostracization over accusations of racism (Beale is himself Native American), while even progressives or independent authors like Bryan Thomas Schmidt are denounced as “cultural appropriators”; in Schmidt’s case, because he prepared an anthology of nonwestern sci-fi stories. Peak absurdity was achieved in 2014 when Jonathan Ross was forced to cancel his appearance at the Hugo Awards after the SJWs of SFF whipped themselves into a panic-fuelled rage over fears that Ross might – might! – make a fat joke. Even the New Statesman, which sometimes reads like an extension of Tumblr, came out and condemned the “self-appointed gatekeepers” of SFF.
But while the examples of manufactured grievance may be absurd, few members of the SFF community are laughing. New York Times bestselling author Larry Correia told us that SFF is currently in the grip of a “systematic campaign to slander anybody who doesn’t toe their line,” which is breeding a culture of fear and self-censorship. “Most authors aren’t making that much money, so they are terrified of being slandered and losing business,” he says. The only exceptions are a “handful of people like me who are either big enough not to give a crap, or too obstinate to shut up.”
After years on the back foot, that obstinate handful are preparing to fight back.
Sad Puppies
To the outside world, the Hugo Awards are known as the most prestigious honor that a sci-fi or fantasy creator can achieve. However, inside the community they are widely seen as a popularity contest dominated by cliques and super-fandoms. This can be seen most clearly in the dominance of Doctor Who in the TV award categories. The show’s enormous fanbase has garnered 26 Hugo nominations in the last nine years. Episodes from the show triumphed in every year between 2006 and 2012, save one.
The Hugos have an advantage, though: they are difficult for a single group to dominate if others rise to challenge them. All one has to do to vote in the awards is pay a small membership fee to the World Science Fiction Convention. For the few who are brave enough to defend artistic freedom openly, the Hugos are a good place to make a stand.
That is precisely what is now happening. Ahead of 2013’s Hugo Awards, Larry Correia began making public blog posts about his nominations, inviting his readers to discuss and agree on a shared list of Hugo nominations, and vote collectively. The idea was to draw attention to authors and creators who were suffering from an undeserved lack of attention due to the political climate in sci-fi. The “Sad Puppies” slate was born.
(The original idea was to call it the “Sad Puppies Think of the Children Campaign” – a dig at those who take their social crusades too seriously.)
What began as a discussion among bloggers has turned into an annual event. Last year’s Sad Puppies slate was extraordinarily successful, with seven out of Correia’s twelve nominations making it to the final stage of the Hugos. Among the successful nominations was The Last Witchking, a novelette by Theodore Beale, also known as Vox Day – a writer whose radical right-wing views had put him at the top of the sci-fi SJWs’ hit list. The fact that an author like Beale could receive a Hugo nomination was proof that SJW domination of sci-fi was not as complete as the elites would have liked.
In addition to humiliating the activists, the slate also triggered significant debate. Even John Scalzi, the privilege-checking SFWA President discussed above, was forced to admit that works of science fiction and fantasy ought to be judged on their quality, not on the politics of their authors. This greatly upset some of Scalzi’s more radical supporters, who openly called for exclusion on the basis of political belief. The debate also spread beyond sci-fi to the pages of The Huffington Post and USA Today.
 Stirring up debate was, of course, precisely the point of Sad Puppies. As well as ensuring that quality works of fiction made it past the cliques at places like SFWA and Tor.com to be considered by the fans themselves, the Sad Puppies slate also forced radicals to show their true colours. Those who supported political ostracism were outed as a tiny but vocal minority. As Correia explained on his blog, the slate managed to expose the “thought police” of the community before votes had even been cast.
This year, the Sad Puppies slate returns once more, championed by Hugo and Nebula-nominee Brad R. Torgerson. Although run by conservative authors, it includes many authors and creators who are left-wing, liberal, or non-politically aligned. In this way, the slate hopes to protect what radical activists want to eliminate: diversity of opinion and political tolerance.
The battle continues
 The debate generated by the Sad Puppies slate could not have come at a timelier moment. Although the radicals are in the minority, they have proven as disruptive to sci-fi as they have been to universities, secularism, and video gaming.
Character assassinations, doxing, and abuse campaigns from radical activists happen all the time, with little to no condemnation from the self-proclaimed opponents of “online harassment.” Activists urge conference-goers to avoid “unsafe” authors like Correia, in an echo of the excuses used by ‘Stepford Students’ to bar speakers from campus on the grounds of preserving “safe spaces”–an argument that has come under increasing fire from liberals and conservatives alike.
(The world of sci-fi even has its very own Shanley Kane. Last autumn’s controversy du jour was the outing of a notorious online abuser known as “Requires Hate,” a social justice activist who relentlessly abused anyone who got on her wrong side – regardless of their politics.)
Indeed, the reaction to the Sad Puppies slate proved that anyone can be a target in the new environment. When the slate was chosen, several authors came under attack simply for being recommended on it. In other words, the radical activists of sci-fi are no longer a threat just to right-wingers.
Even if social-justice radicals were only a threat to right-wingers, that would still be a problem in need of a solution. The breadth of perspectives accommodated by sci-fi has historically been one of its greatest strengths, allowing it to reach ever-wider audiences throughout the decades. The great dystopian writers of the early-to-mid twentieth-century included socialists like George Orwell, liberals like Aldous Huxley, and of course the objectivist libertarian Ayn Rand.
In the postwar period, conservatives like Robert Heinlein and liberals like Isaac Asimov were both among the leading figures of science fiction. Political tolerance, an idea loathed by radical activists, has ever been the norm in the community, and it has thrived because of it.
Wherever they emerge, social-justice warriors claim to be champions of diversity. But they always reveal themselves to be relentlessly hostile to it: they applaud people of different genders, races, and cultures just so long as those people all think the same way. Theirs is a diversity of the trivial; a diversity of skin-deep, ephemeral affiliations.
The diversity that writers like Correia and Torgerson have set out to protect is different. It is a diversity of perspectives, of creative styles, and, yes, of politics. It is the kind of diversity that authoritarians hate, but it is the only kind of diversity that matters.
Follow Allum Bokhari (@LibertarianBlue) and Milo Yiannopoulos (@Nero) on Twitter.

Sad Puppies slate

Some of my work in 2014 has received plaudits from the Sad Puppies project of Hugo award recommendations. "Letter from Gardner" is recommended for Best Related Work, and "On a Spiritual Plain", published in Sci-Phi Journal, is recommended in the Short Story category.

If you attended GalaxyFest in Colorado Springs in 2013, and saw me using a typewriter at my table - "On a Spiritual Plain" was the story I wrote.

Thanks to fellow SASS member Brad Torgersen, who assembled the slate this year.

Best Novel
“The Dark Between the Stars” – Kevin J. Anderson – TOR
“Trial by Fire” – Charles E. Gannon – BAEN
“Skin Game” – Jim Butcher – ROC
“Monster Hunter Nemesis” – Larry Correia – BAEN
“Lines of Departure” – Marko Kloos – 47 North (Amazon)

Best Novella
“Flow” – Arlan Andrews Sr. – Analog magazine November 2014
“One Bright Star to Guide Them” – John C. Wright – Castalia House
“The Jenregar and the Light” – Dave Creek – Analog magazine October 2014
“Big Boys Don’t Cry” – Tom Kratman – Castalia House

Best Novelette
“The Journeyman: In the Stone House” – Michael F. Flynn – Analog magazine June 2014
“The Triple Sun: A Golden Age Tale” – Rajnar Vajra – Analog magazine July/Aug 2014
“Championship B’tok” – Edward M. Lerner – Analog magazine Sept 2014
“Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, Earth to Alluvium” – Gray Rinehart – Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show

Best Short Story
“Goodnight Stars” – Annie Bellet – The Apocalypse Triptych
“Tuesdays With Molakesh the Destroyer” – Megan Grey – Fireside Fiction
“Totaled” – Kary English – Galaxy’s Edge magazine
“On A Spiritual Plain” – Lou Antonelli – Sci Phi Journal #2
“A Single Samurai” – Steve Diamond – Baen Big Book of Monsters

Best Related Work
“Letters from Gardner” – Lou Antonelli – Merry Blacksmith Press
“Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth” – John C. Wright – Castalia House
“THE HOT EQUATIONS: THERMODYNAMICS AND MILITARY SF” – Ken Burnside
“Wisdom From My Internet” – Michael Z. Williamson
“Why Science is Never Settled” – Tedd Roberts – BAEN

Best Graphic Story
“Reduce Reuse Reanimate (Zombie Nation book #2) – Carter Reid – (independent)

Best Dramatic Presentation (Long Form)
“The Lego Movie” – Phil Lord, Christopher Miller
“Guardians of the Galaxy” – James Gunn
“Interstellar” – Christopher Nolan
“The Maze Runner” – Wes Ball

Best Dramatic Presentation (Short Form)
Grimm – ” Once We Were Gods” – NBC
Marvel’s Agent’s of Shield – ABC
Warehouse 13 – SyFY
A Game of Thrones – “The Mountain and the Viper” – HBO

Best Editor (Long Form)
Toni Weisskopf – BAEN
Jim Minz – BAEN
Anne Sowards – ACE/ROC
Sheila Gilbert – DAW

Best Editor (Short Form)
Mike Resnick – Galaxy’s Edge magazine
Edmund R. Schubert – Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show
Jennifer Brozek (Shattered Shields)
Bryan Thomas Schmidt (Shattered Shields)
William Schafer (Subterranean Press)

Best Professional Artist
Carter Reid
Jon Eno
Alan Pollack
Nick Greenwood

Best Semiprozine
Sci Phi Journal – Jason Rennie
Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show – Edmund Schubert
Abyss & Apex
Andromeda Spaceways In-Flight Magazine

Best Fanzine
Tangent SF On-line – Dave Truesdale
SF Signal – Jon DeNardo
Elitist Book Reviews – Steve Diamond
The Revenge of Hump Day – Tim Bolgeo

Best Fancast
“The Sci Phi Show” – Jason Rennie
Dungeon Crawlers Radio
Adventures in SF Publishing

Best Fan Writer
Matthew David Surridge (Black Gate)
Jeffro Johnson
Amanda Green
Cedar Sanderson
Dave Freer

The John W. Campbell Award
Jason Cordova
Kary English
Eric S. Raymond
Amy Turner Hughes