• Embed Doc
  • Copy Link
  • Readcast
  • Collections
  • CommentGo Back
Download
 
They weren’t all happy tears.A lot of them were. Maybe most of them. There were happy tears, no question, tons. There were so manythings I was feeling that I had no idea how to process them and I had to sit down. There was absolute joy, andwhen I rushed over to Jay Lake, one of my favorite people on this planet, and wrapped him in a giant hug, that wasprobably the moment when the second wave of emotions hit, when I could feel the facts starting to rush in.My Pops was dead.He died five years ago, about a year after I started the Drink Tank, and I knew that he would have beenhappier than I was at that moment, that his heaving sobs would have been bigger, that he’d have been jumpingup and down and screaming and he would have rushed the stage and there would have been no one who wouldhave stopped him from getting there.That was the moment when that hit.The moment I knew it was real, that it wasn’t a weird dream? I got that it was actually happening whenI stared into Tim Powers’ face and he said “You won! You won!” and I hugged him. There aren’t a lot of us whowill ever have the chance to have their favorite author in the front row when the most amazing moment of ourlives happen. There aren’t a lot of us who can say that they got to hug said author at that time. It was then that Iknew, really knew, that I had won a Hugo.In the moments before I knew it was real, I had jumped up, run a little bit back down the aisle away fromthe stage. All I could think to do at that moment was to move and I chose away from the stage for some reason.At that point, I heard some familiar voices screaming. I remember walking back towards the stage thinking ‘I’vegot to get up there’ and then seeing Patty Wells, the Chair of Renovation, and grabbing her face and giving her akiss because it was the only thing I could think of. I then moved on to her husband Mark and gave him one too. I’dnever met the man, but this seemed like a good introduction. I stopped before I kissed the entire row (I skippedover SilverBob) and then I ran into Tim Powers.And then, like I said, it got real.I have rewatched the video a few times. You can see me wrap my arms around myself before climb thestage. I was in total blinders mode. I didn’t even see James climb the stairs and jump off the stage. I was just feelingeverything and when I saw Jay I knew I had to hug the man, and I did and it was a great moment.And then, I needed to take off my jacket. I am still not surewhy I threw it off, I’ll never know exactly what I was thinking, but Ican imagine that the part of my brain that is usually used to run someprimitive aspect of digestion was holding down the fort as all the ra-tional parts had shut down and said “you love your Flintstones shirt,so THAT’S got to be on the outside!” and I threw the Armani coat tothe ground. I rejected it like a baboon heart.James grabbed me in a hug that wasn’t quick, it was sudden.He said over and over “You deserve it! You so deserve it!” and Iwas crying and I was trying to stay standing and I was hoping that Iwouldn’t fall and I was thinking about the last name on the slides thatshowed during the pre-show: Mike Glicksohn. I’d never met the man,but had admired his work, and Taral Wayne had suggested that we puttogether an issue dedicated to him and that led me to seeking out hiswork and the words of his friends and after I did it, I didn’t stop look-ing into his life and found that he was a guy I almost certainly wouldhave liked and most likely would have loved, and that I most definitelyrespected.And I didn’t know any of that until after he was dead.I had tears in my eyes during the pre-show and during themoment of silence we held, and when I finally got to the mic, I had tostop.I don’t remember grabbing the Hugo. I just knew that it had
 
somehow ended up on the podium, the plague facing towards me, and it had my name on it. And I could seebeyond it to the audience, almost entirely faceless, and it was incredible that I was in front of a thousand peopleaccepting an award that had been a dream of mine for years. I had always wanted one, but never expected to win.Guys like me don’t win Hugos. Hugos go to people who know what they’re doing and don’t just go about writ-ing issue after issue. Regular folks don’t win Hugos. Everyone I’ve ever known who has one has been an amazingspecimen. Frank Wu. Mike Glyer. Geri Sullivan. Claire Brialey. Dave Langford. The PLOKTAns. J. Randrew Byers.Brad Foster. Talented, amazing humans one-and-all.I’ve written, and mostly memorized, speeches every year, including this one, and I had once recited theone I hoped to give to a few friends, but this was more. This was the moment and I had every single possible thingthat I had thought of saying slip away into somewhere else. I think I said “Oh my Fuck!” here, but really, I don’t re-member. James made a joke: “Chris Garcia’s regular service has been interrupted and will return momentarily.”“All of the things I could possibly be thinking right now, there are only two names: John Paul Garcia, myDad, who didn’t make it, and the other is the recently late Mike Glicksohn.”I made it through what I’m told was an OK speech at my Dad’s memorial, my voice breaking the entiretime, but this moment was so many many times harder. There was all this joy and mixed with it was a touch of pain from not being able to share this with the man who had brought me into the World of fandom and who hadbrought me into the World. It was painfully apparent that this wouldn’t go well, though I did manage to say “Andmy Lovely and Talented, Long-suffering girlfriend, Linda Wenzelburger.”And then I just completely broke.There is no other way to say it. I had nothing. No single way to deal with what I was feeling. The joy wasbubbling up, all the other emotions moving to the front, all of them. All the hours I’d spent working on the zine,all the hours I’d spent thinking about the zine, all of it was there at that moment, along with the overwhelmingsense of this is AMAZING and the slight hints of missing Dad and fear, utter and complete fear, that this momentwas going to be completely lost.“I’m going to let James talk now.” Was all I could manage and I lowered myself to the stage next to thepodium and I could tell that whatever part of my brain was doing all the processing didn’t have to worry aboutkeeping me upright anymore, so it just said ‘contract, get the tears out, put every emotion you’ve got out there.‘And if you watch the video, you can see that I pull the Hugo trophy in and wrap myself around it and I’msobbing, and sobbing, and I, at that moment, come back a little. That’s when the hurt of not having Dad around wasgone, that it was all the joy I could ever possibly feel being felt all at once, and I managed to look up, and unwrapmyself from the Hugo, I give a little smile and then start back up to my feet as James was talking.I finally got up and I knew that I would not be able to manage a real speech. I must have been thinking ‘getto your feet, come up with a plan’ and the only plan I had was ‘say thanks to the important ones.’And I did.Mo Starkey, the artist who has doneso much art and who is so important tome and who got herself onto the ballot thisyear.Taral Wayne, a Fan Artist of the finestkind and a writer whose works have madethe Drink Tank over the last two years.Genevieve Collonge, my Ex, and herdaughter, Evelyn, who I have struggled tokeep as a part of my life, and though at timesit’s been the biggest challenge I’ve ever hadto rise up and meet, and I once wrote a piececalled “Gen and Evelyn Make My Life Hell...and it’s Worth It!” and I had to at least saytheir name. I mention my Mom, and I mention
Photo from Stu Segal
of 00

Leave a Comment

You must be to leave a comment.
Submit
Characters: ...
You must be to leave a comment.
Submit
Characters: ...