The Hugo Nominees came out, and after months of being told the Sad Puppies were a minority that didn’t matter. That last year proved the award belong to the CHORFs and TrueFen, the truth comes out.
Tor is in an uproar, if you ever needed proof they long ago left the majority of their genre’s fans behind, you see it here from Moshe Feder of the aforementioned publisher’s FB feed:
It’s most unfortunate that right-wing fans with a warped, paranoid vision of how the Hugo Awards have successfully functioned for decades, confabulated scenarios in which they imagined their favorite works had been kept off the ballot, or from winning, by non-existent left-wing conspirators. Sadly, they chose to respond with an _actual_ conspiracy of their own, and have, as a result, succeeded in demeaning and devaluing the awards. The fact that their conspiracy was open rather than secret makes it no less nefarious. I don’t know whether to shake my head or my fist.
The Hugo Awards are not supposed to be political elections, but popular judgments of absolute quality. To bring organized campaigning into the awards’ process is to render them all but meaningless. I feel sorry for those authors whose stories deserved recognition but whose nominations have now been sullied by association with the conspiracy.
I have to give this some thought, but I may have to conclude that an ethical fan with traditional fannish values has no choice but to only consider nominees _not_ backed by the slates and, if not satisfied that those deserve to win, to then vote No Award in as many categories as necessary. No Award is our last bastion against corruption. Unfortunately, to vote for any of the slate-backed nominees, no matter how worthy in the abstract, would be to implicitly endorse the cynical and unfannish way they got on the ballot.
Folks, we’ve danced this dance last year. Even Scalzi admitted that the only thing SP did different from before was make their bloc voting transparent. When feminists swept the Nebulas and pranced around Twitter chanting they would never read a white, male, heterosexual author, no one at Tor called them out for their matriarchal dance. And those of us who called that just as sexist as if I said I’d never read a lesbian female author–which would be untrue, as I have–were called backwards right-wingers and not-true fans.
What’s more, the SP slate deliberately culled itself to not overemphasize it’s own triumph. If you needed proof Larry Correia is class, here it is:monsterhunternation.com/2015/0…. Now I can hope without reservation that Jim Butcher–criminally overlooked for the Hugos for over a decade–come on, not ONE nomination? Did you not read Dead Beat or Changes?–will get an award he justly deserves. And while Butcher *may* have snuck a couple of political statements into his later Dresden novels, none of them are overt table pounding. And the one that annoyed the Left the most was said by a Faye the reader isn’t supposed to empathize with ANYWAY, as Dresden says the exact opposite–tolerant–statement. But that isn’t good enough. Not to mention, it wasn’t in Skin Game anyway, which is nothing if not a back-to-Dead Beat recapitulation of everything that made the Files DresdenCrack to begin with.
So I’m not sorry that Sad Puppies crashed the party. We were told for years we didn’t matter, and wouldn’t change the award.
We did. We have. And if you think it’s for the worse, then ask yourself what does it mean to be ‘inclusive’? Or is only ‘Inclusive of the people we like’? The Evil League of Evil is here to stay, and I proudly wear my Overlord-in-Waiting tag.
Objects in Space, Ch.2CHAPTER 2: THE WHITE QUEEN
Two Years Later.
Darcy Blanch walked barefoot through the ship. Her white lace sleeping gown billowed around her knees. Darcy's pace was swift, and her heart thundered in her chest.
It was the middle of the night well, the middle of the sleep cycle. In space, it was always night, and after a years of traveling through the void, Darcy's internal clock had been completely shut down. So when the dream woke her up, she went from slumber to complete awareness almost instantly.
Stepping over the raised edges of the pressure doors, Darcy made her way through the kitchen. The last meal's dishes rotted away in a corner. Chairs around the metal table were askew. It had been like that for a week. Ever since the accident, no one wanted to clean it up. It was untouchable. Darcy's heart sank, and she hurried out of the lonely room.
No wonder he was ha
I'm a wizard, nah, I'm a spy, no no, I'm an evil genius! Yeah, that's it. Alright, actually I'm a writer, which just means I've been restrained by society from fulfilling my desire for global domination through illegal means, and instead torment my characters. |
Tarien Cole may only be the pen-name, but it's much more interesting than real life.
I write, primarily in novel form, across the Speculative Fiction spectrum. Classic Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Steampunk, Weird Western, & Space Opera.
I mark many of my Deviations Mature and Strict Mature because I respect the dA filter system. Please do the same when you read.