Question in e-mail:
Are you upset that you’re not on this year’s Hugo ballot? You’ve been on it a lot recently.
Short answer: No.
Longer answer: No, and also, really? Are you serious? It’s a fine ballot, in terms of the work, and as a special added bonus it’s filled up with a bunch of my friends, all of whom I wish could win, even when they’re up against other friends of mine. There’s not much on the ballot I would change. I like it when I show up on the ballot — it’s nice, you know? — and if I show up on the ballot again some other year I will be delighted. Feel free to nominate me at a later time if you feel the work merits it. But I think being upset that one is not on the ballot would be indicative of the twin diseases of Insufficient Graciousness and Excessive Hubris, and both have at their root a wholly unearned feeling of entitlement. I try really hard not to be that guy.
Beyond that airy, philosophical point, on a practical level, last year my published fiction output was three short stories, and the Short Story category is as I understand it the most competitive fiction category (think about how many short stories are published each year and you’ll see why). While I think the three short stories I wrote last year are pretty good, the number of short stories published last year of equal or greater quality is, shall we say, reasonably large. I also suggested my humor video for the Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form Category, and again, I thought it was pretty good. But if I had to choose between it and “Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury,” well. I’m not voting for me in that scenario. I’ve got me an ego, but come on. All of which is to say that this year I wasn’t exactly waiting up for the nomination e-mail.
So: no. Not upset in the least and in fact quite happy for my friends who get their turn in the Happy Fun Anxiety Barrel that is the time between now and the Hugo awards ceremony. I hope they enjoy it as much as I did when it was my turn.