I’ve been nominated or shortlisted for (or won) nine major awards. Nine. Awards. Nine.
- The Hugo (Nominee)
- The Tiptree (Shortlist)
- The Prix Imaginales (Nominee)
- Gemmell Morningstar Award (Finalist)
- Locus Awards (Finalist)
- Nebula Award (Nominee)
- Goodreads Readers’ Choice Awards (Nominee)
- Romantic Times Book Reviews Award, Fantasy (Winner!)
- Crawford Award (Shortlist)
::bogglety:: I kinda don’t know what to think about this. I’m astounded. Awed. Humbled. A little scared. A lot giddy. (And the Virgo in me keeps wanting it to be ten, just to make it a nice round number.) It’s an honor to be nominated for even one of these things, but all of them? Holy guacamole.
I’m leaving tomorrow for the Nebula Awards weekend down in DC, which is already in full progress — but since I’m off to Imaginales after that, I’ve got to husband my vacation days carefully, so only doing an overnighter. The ceremony is tomorrow evening, and I don’t think they’re doing an online simulcast this year (which they did in NYC last year, and which I attended), so I’d recommend watching Twitter for a play-by-play on who’s winning what.
But looking at the list above, I think I’ll have a hard time being disappointed if I lose tomorrow. I mean, ’cause… wow. (Also ’cause the other nominees are kickass folks, and I love many of their works and voted for them myself.) So anyway, wish us all luck!