Obviously it would make a better story if I had won a Lammy, but I lost along with everyone else in my category to Isaac R. Fellman's The Breath of the Sun (2018). I am not sorry to have attended the ceremony. I got to hear acceptance speeches by Barbara Smith, Masha Gessen, and Larissa Lai, plus the roar of applause that Anthony Rapp got for existing onstage as a presenter. ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rushthatspeaks texted that they hoped I was having fun and I responded honestly, "There's fundraising karaoke happening in front of me. It's great." Justin Vivian Bond hosted in a glittery flapper skirt and a T-shirt reading "THEY POWER." I had a very great quantity of eel beforehand with ladymondegreen at Soho Sushi and some very delicious sautéed burdock afterward with Michael Cisco and Farah Rose Smith at Sobaya as well as consolatory drinks at Angel's Share, which is the bar you find by walking through a random side door in Village Yokocho. Earlier in the afternoon I visited the Strand and left with a hardcover of Barbara Hambly's Sold Down the River (2000), otherwise known as the hardcover Benjamin January that I could justify to myself because I did not already own it in any other form. Liz Ziemska's Mandelbrot the Magnificent (2017) came home with me on account of looking like terrific ghost-poem gematriya.
I remember when I went to Wiscon in 2005. I enjoyed multiple aspects of that weekend, but it was also a space in which I had been told I would feel at home and in fact felt badly alienated. I had no expectations of feeling at home at the Lambda Literary Awards, especially since it was a social event at which I knew no one else attending, but I am now processing the information that I do seem to feel more comfortable in majority-queer spaces. Which I have been in before, several households of people important to me fit the definition, mine's at least a fifty-fifty split, but there were a whole lot of people of various genders and orientations in that auditorium expressing them variously (and mostly looking great while doing it, though that's incidental to the point) and they did not make me feel like I was doing mine wrong. I'm not sure yet what to do with this fact. It's useful to know. I'm just used to feeling on the outside of wherever I am.
A total stranger screamed enthusiastically when my name was announced for LGBTQ Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror. They were sitting a row behind me to the left; I never had any idea who they were. That was heart-melting.
Tomorrow is more trains. I shall sleep.
rushthatspeaks texted that they hoped I was having fun and I responded honestly, "There's fundraising karaoke happening in front of me. It's great." Justin Vivian Bond hosted in a glittery flapper skirt and a T-shirt reading "THEY POWER." I had a very great quantity of eel beforehand with ladymondegreen at Soho Sushi and some very delicious sautéed burdock afterward with Michael Cisco and Farah Rose Smith at Sobaya as well as consolatory drinks at Angel's Share, which is the bar you find by walking through a random side door in Village Yokocho. Earlier in the afternoon I visited the Strand and left with a hardcover of Barbara Hambly's Sold Down the River (2000), otherwise known as the hardcover Benjamin January that I could justify to myself because I did not already own it in any other form. Liz Ziemska's Mandelbrot the Magnificent (2017) came home with me on account of looking like terrific ghost-poem gematriya.I remember when I went to Wiscon in 2005. I enjoyed multiple aspects of that weekend, but it was also a space in which I had been told I would feel at home and in fact felt badly alienated. I had no expectations of feeling at home at the Lambda Literary Awards, especially since it was a social event at which I knew no one else attending, but I am now processing the information that I do seem to feel more comfortable in majority-queer spaces. Which I have been in before, several households of people important to me fit the definition, mine's at least a fifty-fifty split, but there were a whole lot of people of various genders and orientations in that auditorium expressing them variously (and mostly looking great while doing it, though that's incidental to the point) and they did not make me feel like I was doing mine wrong. I'm not sure yet what to do with this fact. It's useful to know. I'm just used to feeling on the outside of wherever I am.
A total stranger screamed enthusiastically when my name was announced for LGBTQ Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror. They were sitting a row behind me to the left; I never had any idea who they were. That was heart-melting.
Tomorrow is more trains. I shall sleep.
