The Year That Science Fiction Won The Culture War (Hugo Cinema 1983)

This blog post is the twenty-sixth in a series examining past winners of the Best Dramatic Presentation Hugo Award. An introductory blog post is here.

At 1:30 p.m. on Friday, September 2, 1983 at the Baltimore convention Centre, a panel discussing the previous year’s best movies and television shows was held as part of ConStellation, the 41st World Science Fiction Convention.

In 1982, audiences flocked to see Spielberg's
watered-down and mawkish remake of
Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
(Image via Cult Following)

“It is obvious,” opined one of the panelists, “that E.T. will win the Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation.”

There seemed to be a consensus that E.T. — a $360-million blockbuster box-office juggernaut — was going to win the award … though some fans such as Richard E. Geis (who himself won a Hugo that year) groused that they were, “sick of the Steven Spielberg juvenile sweetness-n-light approach to SF.”

On the Sunday evening of the convention at the Hugo Awards ceremony (which featured a crab feast), however, the audience reacted with stunned silence — and then rapturous applause — as toastmaster Jack L. Chalker read out that Blade Runner had taken home the trophy.

It was not an uncontroversial decision; Blade Runner seems to have been championed by old-school science fiction fans and those who wanted the genre to take itself seriously, while E.T. was the choice of more whimsical fans. One fanzine churlishly chalked up Blade Runner’s win to nostalgia and a desire to give a Hugo to the recently deceased Philip K. Dick. 

Not all science fiction movies
of 1982 are certified classics.
(Image via IMDB)

It had been an impressive year for science fiction cinema. The Hugo shortlist featured classics like Blade Runner, E.T., and Mad Max: The Road Warrior alongside The Wrath of Khan (often regarded as the best Star Trek movie) and The Dark Crystal (which retains a cult following today).

Beyond the shortlist were even more important classics, almost too many to talk about in a blog post. John Carpenter’s The Thing remains one of the greatest science fiction horror movies ever made. Special effects juggernaut Tron kicked off the digital revolution in how movies were made. Don Bluth’s first movie as a director, The Secret of Nimh, is still beloved by younger audiences. Rainer Wenrer Fassbender’s Kamikaze 1989 brought the cyberpunk movement to Germany. French director René Laloux worked with famed illustrator Mœbius on an animated space opera Les Maîtres du Temps. John Milius brought Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Barbarian to the screen. In Poland, Piotr Kamler wowed audiences with the visually lush stop-motion of Chronopolis. Not to mention, that television shows Knight Rider and Voyagers! both hit the airwaves that year!

Rewatching these films with the benefit of 40 years of hindsight, the shortlist looks pretty darned good. Even Jo Walton (who has often griped about the Best Dramatic Presentation category at the Hugos) conceded that in 1983, “there’s not only a worthy winner in this category, but something that almost looks like sufficient nominees to be worth running it.”

The weakest movie on the shortlist is The Dark Crystal. Although the set design is lush and the technical details are impressive, the story is pedestrian and the dialogue is dull. It’s a standard fantasy epic in which a hobbit gelfling has to travel to mount doom the citadel and destroy a ring crystal shard. None of the characters are particularly memorable, other than in appearance.

The soundtrack to Mad Max is a bit too much like
Yakety Sax for our tastes, but the visuals are great.
(Image via SlashFilm)

Even early in his directorial career, George Miller’s talent for visual storytelling is evident in the kinetic, engaging, and over-the-top bonkers Mad Max: The Road Warrior. Watching it in the context of its era, it’s difficult to overstate how revolutionary it was for post-apocalyptic movies; compared to the frenetic violence of Mad Max, the previous decade’s offerings such as Omega Man, A Boy And His Dog, and No Blade Of Grass all seem quaint. Although we’re generally not fans of opening and closing monologues, Mad Max does enough visual storytelling to have earned its exposition. Despite his later descent into antisemetic buffoonery, it’s easy to understand why the young Mel Gibson became a star. Just 21 years old at the time of filming, he’s able to carry the movie on his performance.

Given that the franchise has become increasingly focused on nostalgia, it’s interesting to note that The Wrath of Khan is the first Star Trek film that is mostly looking at the past. Not only does the movie deal with an antagonist that had appeared in a previous episode, James T. Kirk (William Shatner) spends much of the film pining for the old days and contemplating his own mortality. One of the reasons this works is that — unlike another former Trek captain’s navel-gazing nostalgia fest — The Wrath of Khan also explores generational change. Some might argue that director Nicholas Meyer’s other Trek film is better but there’s a lot to love in this movie and it’s easy to understand why it placed second on the Hugo shortlist. It’s not just good Star Trek, it’s a good movie.

What aged less well, however, is E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial. Despite good special effects, and Steven Spielberg’s skill with lighting and shot framing, we might argue that it doesn’t meet the standards of science fiction or of storytelling that should be expected of a Hugo finalist — especially in a cinematic year as strong as 1982. The movie often feels like an overlong sitcom episode with a pedestrian alien plot and wacky elementary school hijinks. Moreover, most of the younger characters are surprisingly mean to each other pretty much all the time; dialogue is delivered as yelling which can be exhausting for today’s audience. That being said, it was the top-grossing movie of the year, so clearly it resonated with audiences of the day.

Blade Runner is visually immersive, lush, and 
compelling. It's stood the test of time.
(Image via IMDB)

But Blade Runner was the Hugo winner, and it deserved to be honoured. Visually immersive and moody, it was a revolution in what serious science fiction could be. As Richard E. Geiss wrote at the time: “Blade Runner captures something on film I thought to be almost impossible -- the near-future claustrophobic paranoid polluted urban landscape so prevalent in most of [Philip K.] Dick’s more memorable novels.”

It’s also worth noting that the 1983 Worldcon was attended by an unusually large number of movie stars and cinema professionals. Makeup artist Rick Baker was in attendance to talk about Greystoke. Producer Gary Kurz (Empire Strikes Back) was there to talk about his Return to Oz. Jim Henson attended his second Worldcon in two years, this time to promote The Muppets Take Manhattan. The entire primary cast of The Right Stuff was in attendance, as well as the movie’s inspiration Chuck Yeager. In keeping with a continuing tradition, however, the movie that won the Hugo did not have anyone in attendance to accept the award.

There was little consensus in our group as to what should have won the Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation in 1982, but we did agree that no matter what won the award, something truly great would be snubbed. Many of us wished The Wrath of Khan could have won, while others felt The Thing should have been honoured.

It was simply a great year for science fiction and fantasy cinema. 

SFF Criticism Needs Iconoclasts Like Brian Collins

Brian Collins is among the most provocative bloggers writing about science fiction and fantasy today. They should be considered for a Hugo for best fanwriter.

Through their blog, the 28-year-old New Jersey native tackles topics that vary wildly between more staid fare such as the value of reading old science fiction, to more incendiary ideas such as the role that military science fiction has played in rationalizing genocide. Their work tends to be engaging, interesting, well-reasoned, and highly readable. 

In an insightful blog post,
Collins points out that
military SFF sometimes
wears its pro-genocide
politics on its sleeve. 
(Image via goodreads)

Over the past four years, Collins has amassed an enviable set of bylines. They began their blogging at Young People Read Old SFF in 2021, contributing to collaborative discussions in the project that Hugo finalist James Davis Nichol curates. Subsequently, they started their own blog at SFF Remembrance, reviewing stories in their original context, as they were first published in magazines. They’ve also contributed to Galactic Journey, Journey Planet, and to Tor.com.

Examining older works in context is one of Collins’ ongoing projects. Each of these reviews — which they publish almost every week — discuss the author’s background, where the work fits into the author’s career, what the publishing magazine was like at the time, etc. Opting for a more conversational style, Collins peppers their writing with asides and interesting digressions. Some highlights include Brian Aldiss’ Hothouse (short story), Damon Knight’s Earth Quarter, and Wyman Guin’s Beyond Bedlam.

Collins wears their politics on their sleeve, and reads through an intersectional lens. Though they’re agnostic, there’s a subtext of liberation theology that runs through much of their analysis — which makes sense given that they took a minor in religious studies while pursuing film studies at Elon University. When discussing the work of Manly Wade Wellman, for example, Collin’s examination of the Angolan-born author’s character and contradictory career add richness to the interpretation of the story.

Brian Collins writes fearlessly, expressing opinions that seem heartfelt even when they go against the public consensus. Some of their iconoclasm can likely be chalked up to the hotheadedness of youth — but at the same time, this willingness to disregard tin gods can lead to interesting insight. This is most evident when they tackle more complex matters in their Observatory editorials. Their piece on Starship Troopers is one of our favourite critiques of Heinlein published in recent memory. To quote from the editorial: 

“Starship Troopers is one of the most famous and misremembered “canonical” SF novels; and unfortunately, no matter how you look at it, it also set a horrible precedent from which the genre still has not recovered. It’s totally possible the genre will never recover from such an impact so long as there are creative minds in the field (and by extension likeminded readers) who believe in Heinlein’s argument: that sometimes extermination is the only option.”

Although they’re a relatively new voice in the SFF community, Brian Collins deserves consideration for the Hugo Award for Best Fan Writer. They’re a writer with a lot of talent, and we look forward to seeing what they do next.

A Future Philosophy Of Justice

There’s a lot to recommend Gautam Bhatia’s new novel The Sentence; the book has compelling characters, an engaging plot, and often delightfully urbane turns of phrase. But the real star of the show is the speculative legal system at the heart of the story.

Set in an India-inspired alternate future city state called Permua, The Sentence follows Nila, a graduating student of law who is commissioned to investigate an assassination. The crime occurred almost 100 years in the past and the convict has been in suspended animation pending an appeal. The deadline for appeals ends at the 100 year mark, after which the cryogenic suspension pod is switched off permanently.

The Sentence is a meditation on
governance, on the death penalty
and on how we construct history.
(Image via Goodreads)

Bhatia has created this setting with evident care; centuries of history permeate the conflicts that tear at the city of Permua. Characters are informed by class-related aspects of this background and the weight of history makes the setting feel more immersive. This history is clearly inspired by real-world history (including the Paris Commune). At times, however, this depth of history can also bog down the story.

Permua — riven between two halves separated by class conflict — has adopted a legal system that depends on neutral arbiters, known as “guardians,” who have to forsake their upbringing and live a quasi-monastic life after completing law school. Consequently, Nila is torn between the anarchist commune in which she was raised, and the guardian culture in which she is apprenticing.

One of the most endearing relationships in the novel is between Nila and her high-born classmate Meru. Although the duo share a reverence for the law — and an allegiance to the guardian system to which they have dedicated their careers — their disparate class backgrounds inform their thinking and the interactions between them, often to entertaining effect.

These characters are well developed, with internally consistent personal philosophies informing their actions and interpersonal conflicts. These distinct points of view help the narrative avoid the didacticism of many other works in social science fiction. This is not a book filled with easy answers, nor absolutes. Rather, it sometimes feels like a constructive intellectual debate between students of philosophy and political science. There’s an effervescent quality to the book that makes it a joy to read, especially for policy nerds.

Legal systems in science fiction too often mirror the courtroom dramas that populate American television, possibly because it can be more difficult to offer counternarratives to established social structures and hegemonic ideas than it is to imagine differences in technology. The fact that Bhatia’s alternate legal system is one that is believable and engaging speaks to both his skill as a writer, and the clarity of his thinking.

Bhatia has a gift for aphorisms, and the novel is peppered with succinct and pithy observations such as “economic wounds make it so much harder to live your ideals.” Another favourite passage describes a building whose architect wanted it to be known as “The Fortress of Dreaming Spires,” but that the result was more of “a bedraggled hedgehog.” At times, the politically charged wry humour and wit of lines like these had us reminiscing about the 1980s sitcom Yes, Minister.

In a world unafraid of technology and unburdened by monopsony, The Sentence would be easily available in North American bookshops and online retailers, but its publisher Westland Books does not have wide distribution outside of India. It is worth tracking down a copy. The Sentence is among the best novels published this year.

Hugo Cinema Goes Mainstream (Hugo Cinema 1982)

This blog post is the twenty fifth in a series examining past winners of the Best Dramatic Presentation Hugo Award. An introductory blog post is here.

Science fiction cinema of the 1980s holds a special place in the hearts of many fans … perhaps because so many of them fell in love with the genre during a decade in which the genre entered the mainstream.

Kurt Russell as Snake Plissken in Escape From
New York. The movie somehow didn't earn
a Hugo Award nomination.
(Image via IMDB)

During that decade, Hollywood studios watched the stratospheric box office revenue being generated by movies such as Halloween, Alien, and of course Star Wars … and wanted to get in on the action. Suddenly, studios were willing to finance up-and-coming talent, and took the chance to take swings at genre, hoping to strike gold.

This influx of new SFF cinema allowed bold ideas to be rewarded at the box office, and in time get the critical praise that it was missing at the time of release.

The Hugos of 1982 marked an inflection point in the evolution of cinema. The previous year, the Hugos celebrated the likes of Ray Bradbury, Ursula K. Le Guin, old serials like Flash Gordon, and the hard science fiction of Carl Sagan. Now, a new guard was taking centre stage, as fresh new ideas shook up the industry.

There’s also a shift in the coverage that these films would receive in contemporaneous fanzines. While discussions of science fiction movies were once relegated to the occasional dismissive rant on the letters page, many fanzines now engaged seriously with cinema. In particular, Jim Harris’ Science Fiction Review regularly provided pages of reviews.

This sea change was most evident in some of the movies that did not end up on the ballot. Our cinema club had universal praise for John Carpenter’s Escape from New York.. Like a lot of Carpenter’s work, it’s a masterclass in effective use of resources; star Kurt Russel served as costume director, while Carpenter himself wrote the score. Protagonist Snake Plissken may not be the first antihero in genre cinema, but he is among the most memorable.

Another film that does a lot with a little is the low-budget Canadian film Scanners. A hidden psychic war is a neat premise that’s elevated by how director David Cronenberg leaned into the body horror. While it wasn’t to everyone’s taste the animated film “Heavy Metal” also did something unique by showing an adult vision of science fiction using a medium primarily shown to children (something Japan had been doing for years).

There was Clash of the Titans which showed that there was still life left in the Ray Harryhausen extravaganza and Superman 2 was a blockbuster that was denied a nomination for technical reasons.

Clash of the Titans may have been the last great
stop-motion epic.
(Image via IMDB)

There was even more to be impressed with from our cousins in the horror genre. Sam Raimi got his start with Evil Dead, the psychological horror drama Possession with Sam Neill and the Academy Award-winning special effect powerhouse An American Werewolf in London. The film club felt that any of these movies would be worthy of nomination and yet none of them were.

What was nominated was a little more mainstream.

While a lot of the group had fond memories of watching Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits as children, even its most ardent fans admitted that the script was a little bit more “shaggy” than they had remembered. While it had some charm, the movie played out like a series of disconnected skits flowing awkwardly from time period to time period. The group felt that maybe the script could be a little tighter, and some of us loathed it. 

The movie Outland was somewhat the opposite of Time Bandits. Dream logic and whimsy were replaced with the grunge of a mining town (in space!), with black-and-white morality. It was essentially “High Noon in space” … but that turns out to be a fairly good setup for a movie. A lone sheriff standing up for what’s right for the whole when everyone else is only looking out for themselves. Whether it is 1952 or 2024 that premise will always work with a certain audience and many in the club felt that it worked well here. Sean Connery puts in a remarkably restrained performance that ranks among his all-time best roles, as Marshall William O’Niel. Set on Jupiter’s moon of Io, Outland critiques corporate exploitation of workers in a mining colony. What makes this movie shine are the details: O’Niel’s family turmoil seems like a natural reflection of his dedication to his job. Marion Lazarus (played by Frances Sternhagen) provides an interesting ally to the protagonist. At least one member of our cinema watching group thought this deserved to win.

Sean Connery (left) and Frances Sternhagen
anchor the movie Outland with restrained
performances and a gritty charisma.
(Image via IMDB)

In between these films lies Excalibur, an example of muscular filmmaking at its worst. Retelling the archetypal western fantasy King Arthur through a grim-and-gritty lens, it is essentially a movie about men covered in metal swinging swords, trying to get unobtainable women, and making poor decisions that doom everyone around them. This might have been an interesting movie if it had anything new to say about the legend of Arthur, but sadly it does not. The group was somewhat lukewarm on this film. It is fairly well made and looks great and is replete with British/Irish acting legends but is an enormous let-down after John Boorman’s previous movie.

Conversely, we were surprisingly impressed with Dragonslayer, a Disney live-action sword and sorcery directed by Matthew Robbins. Most of us had never seen it, and the consensus was that it was a lot more enjoyable than it had any right to be. This mix of a sorcerer’s apprentice tale with a quest to defeat evil may not have been fresh or bold, but was the right kind of “likeable” for some members of the group. The dragon effect (made by ILM in their first work for another studio) was surprisingly effective for the era. As Richard E. Geiss wrote in Science Fiction Review: “Who would have thought the Disney studios would ever create such a realistic, honest, quality sword and sorcery film as this?”

This brings us to the gravity-crushing neutron star in the room Raiders of the Lost Ark. Hugo-winners George Lucas and Steven Spielberg teamed up to launch one of the biggest movie trillogies of the 1980s, remixing classic adventure serials of the 1930s to create something fantastic. Much of the movie has aged well -- Harrison Ford is at the height of his magnetic charisma, Spielberg’s visual storytelling prowess makes the action comprehensible and engaging, and cinematographer Douglas Slocombe’s beautiful lighting makes every frame a piece of art. However -- at the risk of being castigated for nerd heresy -- there were some aspects of the movie that simply didn’t hold up. Despite being introduced early in the movie as Indiana Jones’ equal, romantic lead Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen) ends up being kidnapped repeatedly and spends much of the movie haplessly calling for help. The narrative structure may have intentionally aped that of a 1920s cinema serial, but several of those episodic sections simply fell flat (in particular the chase through Cairo). Despite these quibbles, most of our cinema club felt that it was still the best choice to take home the Hugo that year.

Going forward this decade will be remembered as the one where science fiction cinema finally became accepted as mainstream, not to mention cool and profitable. Even today, Hollywood leans on a SFF-adventure template as their tentpole for big releases, planning their annual schedule around their leases. Directors’ visions from this decade will shape cinema for generations to come. From where we sit, it looks like there is no going back.

Aliette de Bodard is Overdue for a Hugo Award Win

Aliette de Bodard at the 2024
Hugo Awards.
(Photo by Olav Rokne)

There are only 27 authors whose works have appeared on the prose-fiction Hugo Award ballot at least 10 times. It’s a list of some of the most recognizable and prolific names in the history of the genre: Heinlein, le Guin, Simak, Ellison, Bujold, Chiang.

It’s an achievement to pen even a single work of fiction that speaks to the Hugo voting public enough that it earns a spot on the ballot. The fact that each of these authors have done so on at least ten occasions speaks to the fact that they were important voices in science fiction and fantasy over a significant period of time.

Of this exclusive list of 27 authors, 25 of them have taken home the trophy on at least one occasion. The others are Michael A. Burstein, a terrific author of short fiction who largely stopped publishing new work about a decade ago, and Aliette de Bodard, who earned her 10th and 11th Hugo nods this summer in Glasgow.

Having yet again been a runner-up at Glasgow (losing Short Story to Naomi Kritzer and series to Ann Leckie), Aliette de Bodard now holds the distinction of being the person who has been a finalist for a fiction-category Hugo the most often without winning.

She has come close on numerous occasions.

In 2013, “Immersion” — her nuanced and insightful story about the folly of reducing culture to data — placed second to Ken Liu’s “Mono no Aware.”

In 2019, her novella The Tea Master and The Detective led the balloting during the nominations stage, but that was a year in which the Murderbot books were an unstoppable juggernaut. Aliette de Bodard’s Sherlock Holmes tribute fell short by about 300 votes on the final ballot, placing second to Artificial Condition by Martha Wells.

To us at least, it feels as if de Bodard was robbed in 2015 given that one of her absolute best works "The Breath of War" was prevented from getting on the short story Hugo ballot by the notorious Sad Puppies slate. No short story award was given that year, and damn it Aliette de Bodard probably should have won.

She’s placed fifth to Becky Chambers and fourth to Mary Robinette Kowal. She’s been a finalist in some incredibly strong shortlists. But to date, she’s never taken home the shiny chrome rocket ship. That’s something we think needs to change.

Now, we should mention that de Bodard has been recognized with other literary awards. She’s taken home awards from the BSFA, from the Nebulas, the Locus, the Writers of the Future, and the Ignytes. It would be difficult to argue that she isn’t already one of the genre’s most awarded authors. But the Hugo Awards have a special place for those of us in the Worldcon community. Not only is her work entirely deserving of a Hugo, she attends Worldcon and is a participant in panels, book signings, and other events. She’s a contributing member of the Worldcon community.

This year, de Bodard has two works that could be considered for a Hugo Award: a novel Navigational Entanglements, a novella In The Shadow of the Ship. (Her series “Universe of Xuya” cannot be renominated until 2026 because it was on the ballot in 2024.)

de Bodard's latest novella ranks
amongst her all-time best.
(Image via Subterranean Press)

The novella In the Shadow of the Ship hit shelves just last week. Set in her Universe of Xuya — a future timeline in which space has been conquered by Confucian galactic empires — In the Shadow of the Ship deals with toxic family relationships on board a horrific refugee ship, where children are sacrificed. The protagonist, Khuyên, is among de Bodard’s most memorable characters, having fled the ship on which she was raised only to return for a family funeral. She understands much of the problematic culture she was raised with, but also brings a reflective outsider’s perspective. Although this is a darker and moodier work than others in the Xuya series, de Bodard continues to explore similar themes of family tensions and mother-daughter relationships. It is on a short list of de Bodard’s best works.

The novel is Navigational Entanglements, which hit shelves this spring, is an action-fuelled political thriller about a neurodivergent navigator who has to hunt down a dangerous creature while dealing with fallout from the assassination of an imperial envoy. It seems a likely candidate for the Hugo shortlist.

It has been 15 years since Aliette de Bodard first made a splash in SFF literary circles when she was shortlisted for the Astounding Award for Best New Writer (which we still feel she should have won). In the time since, she has continued to evolve as a writer and has become a master of her craft. It is astonishing that she does not have a Hugo Award yet, and it is an omission we hope will be rectified in short order.

Guest Post - Hugo Award Gamer Grab Bag 2025: Indelible Indies

We are pleased to share a guest blog post from friend of the blog N. 

The team behind Baldur's Gate 3 attended the
Hugo Awards ceremony in 2024.
(Image by Olav Rokne)

Last year saw the formal introduction of the Best Game or Interactive Work category to the Hugo Awards, set for re-ratification in 2028. This year saw beloved RPG title Baldur’s Gate 3 win the prize (accepted by an attending dev team!), showing that this category does indeed have juice.

Still, questions remain on logistics, and how Worldcon attendees can best evaluate games in the face of the sprawling gaming industry. That’s what we hope to tackle in this (sporadic) series of guest posts, in which we plan to highlight various genre titles worthy of Hugo consideration (and plain worthy of playing). Easing into this inaugural post, here are three acclaimed indie SFF video games of note released so far in 2024 that we think voters would enjoy:

1000xRESIST

Released: May 8

Platforms: PC (Steam, GOG); Switch

Despite being a 3D adventure game set in an ominous post-apocalyptic future with a high-tech aesthetic, 1000xRESIST has no combat. Instead, it is a purely narrative experience, unfurling its story in a way unique to the interactivity of the video game medium. You play as Watcher, a clone whose ALLMOTHER (once an adolescent girl named Iris) was granted immortality after extraterrestrial invaders carried with them a disease to which only she was immune. One of ALLMOTHER’s many clones who populate Earth under the Occupants’ rule, Watcher’s job is to traverse Iris’ memories in order to preserve them, a task that is suddenly given urgency when it becomes apparent that these memories are being tampered with. At its core, 1000xRESIST is a story of the complexities in the Asian diaspora, with allegory both political and personal, woven through a millennium-spanning tale that emerges as one of the most striking genre stories of the year in any format. A good title for a fan of cerebral genre fiction inexperienced in video games to try out.

Nine Sols

Released: May 28

Platforms: PC (Steam)

Nine Sols from Red Candle Games merges
cyberpunk with Taoism.
(Image via Red Candle Games)

The most beloved indie game of the year so far proudly wears its influences on its sleeve and turns them on their head. Nine Sols takes the Soulslike gameplay of Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice and seamlessly flattens it into a 2D Metroidvania, set in the world of New Kunlun, a futuristic yet barren realm that takes cues from traditional East Asian fantasies and taoism — a mix the game’s Taiwanese developer has dubbed “taopunk.” You play as Yi (named and modeled after the Chinese archer of legend), a vengeful warrior awoken after being in stasis, seeking to take down the titular nine Sols who rule New Kunlun with an iron fist. Nine Sols is a heartrending story about accepting that the past is immutable but realizing that the future isn’t, set against a stunning backdrop of hand-drawn art and colour and carried by lightspeed gameplay.

Tactical Breach Wizards

Released: August 22

Platforms: PC (Steam)

“Wizards with guns” would work as a summation of this game, but if one insists: this is a turn-based tactics game moves with the sensibility of a well-played tabletop campaign, filled to the brim with action-packed gameplay, colourful characters and an irreverent sense of humor, taking place in a genuinely intriguing urban fantasy setting. Fans of Terry Pratchett will get a lot out of this title. After a long disappearance, feared Chronomancer Liv Kennedy re-emerges to start a war with her former employer and allies, forcing her old partner Zan Vesker (a retired Navy Seer) and freelance witch Jen Kellen to assemble a ragtag team of misfit magicians. In line with its genre, Tactical Breach Wizards requires a fair bit of strategizing from the player — figuring out where to place characters, what powers to use, what choices to make. Don’t let that scare you off, though: TBW’s barrier of entry is forgiving, and its gameplay represents an innovative, more streamlined take on the genre. Its overall tone and package (and high amount of defenestration) make for one of the most fun experiences in this year’s flock of games.

Conclusion

In some discussions about Best Game or Interactive Work, there have been some fears about triple-A major studio games dominating the category, due to unfamiliarity with the wider video gaming scene. While these concerns aren’t unfounded, indie gaming has grown in stature and accessibility, and every year there’s rarely a shortage of key genre titles to seek out — they may just need to be highlighted.

How To Lose A Hugo

Over the past several years, we’ve received DMs and emails from authors and artists asking variations of the question: “How can I lose at the Hugos?”

The joy of losing a Hugo Award is 
one known by few. We're fortunate
to have lost four times. 
(Olav Rokne photo)

There is, of course, no magic formula to ensure anything loses at the Hugo Awards. It is, after all, a community-led, democratic process. Despite one’s best efforts, you might never end up losing a Hugo.

But, having lost at the Hugo Awards four times now, we feel somewhat qualified to provide advice on this subject.

Some years ago, Hugo-winning fanwriter Jim C. Hines summarized nicely and succinctly advice for those seeking to make a splash in SFF awards. He wrote:

• Write the best stuff you can.
• Never assume you’re entitled to an award.
• Don’t be a dick.

Frankly, it’s excellent advice even if you don’t care about awards.

Armed with a heavy dose of humility and a few years of watching how people campaign for SFF literary awards, we have a handful of additional observations to share.

Engage With The Community

When it comes to the Hugo Awards, it’s worth remembering that they are a community award that masquerades as a literary institution. These awards are nominated and voted on by a self-selected group that loosely organizes itself around a series of conventions. That means that how well someone is known and how they are seen within the community will inevitably affect whether or not their work is recognized by the community.

Social media is awash with accounts run by authors who rarely post anything other than promotional content aimed at selling their own books. It’s also worth letting people know who you are, what books you enjoy, and what your general vibe is.

Engaging with the community isn’t just about telling people how good you think your book or art is, it’s about listening and talking about the things that are important to them. Talk about politics, talk about art, talk about architecture, talk about music, and be authentic.

An excellent example of this is Marie Vibert. Years before she became a Hugo finalist, and even before we’d read any of her fiction, we already had a suspicion that she was a good writer because her Tweets were engaging, funny, and interesting. When her byline was in Clarkesworld, a lot of people in the community checked out her work in part because they already know who she is, and were happy to see her getting published.

Lift Other People Up

Worldcon is a community and many of the Hugo voters know each other. And they talk.

When you see something done within the genre that you enjoy, tell people about it. Being part of a community means celebrating the accomplishments of others in that community.

If you spend most of your time lifting other people up, then when you show enthusiasm for your own work it’s more likely to come across as genuine and joyful instead of self-serving.

Listen to Community Voices

Look at which publications tend to carry Hugo-shortlisted works. It’s worth subscribing to a couple of the major SFF magazines, and knowing who your peers are in the SFF creative community.

There’s a lot of great community-based content in fanzines such as Nerds of a Feather and Galactic Journey. If you’re a podcast listener, take the time to tune into a couple of community focused podcasts like Hugo Girl and If This Goes On. Maybe even reach out to Seth at Hugos There, and see if there’s an opportunity to talk about an old book you love. Submit an article to a fanzine like Journey Planet. Send a news item to File 770.

Hugo winner Paul Weimer
has written for … countless
fanzines and guested on
innumerable podcasts.
(Olav Rokne photo) 

It doesn’t hurt to contribute to these types of projects; people remember that sort of stuff. This is not to suggest that there’s any sort of quid-pro-quo, but rather that people are likelier to pay attention to works written by people they know to some degree.

When you look at lists of existing Hugo winners, remember that the reason these works won is that people within the community voted for them. If you are overly vocal in your disdain for these works, their supporters will likely infer that your work is dissimilar to the stuff they like and will consequently not bother to read it.

If you loathe the Hugo Awards, and hate the people at Worldcon, don’t be surprised if the people at Worldcon are not fans of yours either.

It’s fascinating to see people on social media writing screeds about how much they hate the people who vote on Hugo Awards, while simultaneously complaining that they don’t win Hugo Awards.

Be Aware Of Community Standards

As with any community, there are some unwritten rules about what is considered acceptable or unacceptable behaviour. With the Worldcon community, there are several things that are generally considered to be unacceptable, including racism, transphobia, and sexism.

These standards have obviously evolved over time (for the better), and much of the conduct that was once ignored or even encouraged would probably (and correctly) preclude some celebrated authors of the past from winning today.

It’s also worth noting that people who are mean or condescending towards people within the community are less likely to earn Hugo Award nominations. We have seen at least one writer whose published work is brilliant … but who fails to earn award nominations. We suspect it’s largely because of how consistently they talk down to people. 

Find Your Niche

A work doesn’t have to appeal to everyone for it to be worthwhile. Hugo nominations often come from creating something that has deep resonance with a significant minority of fandom, even if it doesn’t connect with the broader Worldcon audience.

This blog, for example, has built a following for both talking about the political economy of speculative fiction, and for a quirky iconoclastic humour. Both of these have niche audiences, and we’re continuously amazed — and thrilled — that our work has been appreciated by that portion of the Worldcon membership.

Humour is however … a bit like Marmite-flavoured icecream. Not every flavour is right for everyone.

Conclusion

More science fiction is being published now than ever before, and thanks to the internet, much of it is available more widely. There are more worthy works in every category every year than could possibly be recognized, consequently don’t take it as a slight if you don’t make the shortlist. If you’re fortunate enough to make the shortlist, don’t take it as a slight if your work doesn’t get a trophy.

Of course, there are a lot of readers, and a lot of active fans, who are not Hugo voters, so one can have a successful career without any risk of being nominated for this award simply because the two circles don't happen to overlap.