I’ve never won an award for my writing in my life. I’ve won an award for a body of work — the Faust (Lifetime Achievement Award) from the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers — but that’s it. Nobody has ever nominated me for a Hugo or Nebula or Stoker or LOCUS Award or any other damn thing. I’ve never even been considered. I’ve received several Scribe noms from the IAMTW, but no victories.
And I’m fine with that. Because with each passing year, I am less and less impressed by a) the entire process by which awards are given and b) the things it does to people who have inexplicably tied up their self-worth in whether or not they get one.
I get e-mails from fans on a regular basis who say they love my work. One person actually pursued a career in politics because of my Star Trek novel Articles of the Federation.
That’s the only award I give an airborne intercourse about. The rest of it is nonsense that distracts from the actual creation of art that’s supposed to be what we’re fucking about.