This is one of those blog posts where I think out loud for a bit as a way of getting thoughts off my brain so I can focus on writing fiction. If you've got better things to do with your Saturday--you know, like being with real human beings or just having fun--you might want to skip it.
On the Hugo: Once upon a time, back when I was a baby writer in my twenties, I thought that winning a Hugo was the epitome of an author's career. Having watched the logrolling and constant infighting within the SFF community, I don't hold the award in the same esteem as I once did.
However, I do believe in change, and I know the community is working on changing the rules for nominations in an attempt to derail the logrolling and the building of slates. That gives me hope. The Hugo is a fan award, and it should be about the fans, not the authors.
To the fans: vote for the works that you love.
To the authors: suck it up and let the fans pick what they like.
On slate voting: I see nothing wrong with a recommended reading list, or an eligibility list, but slate voting has got to stop. It's simply juvenile. Every time it comes up, I question the emotional maturity of the people involved, regardless of their chronological age. Seriously. I can't think of anything else to say about it. [See the suck it up portion above.]
On Diago and Miquel: When you're reading Los Nefilim, remember that Diago and Miquel are hundreds of years old and have been in a relationship with one another for over a century. I did this for a couple of reasons, the most important of which was that I wanted to show you the kind of relationships that a lot of my friends have.
Diago and Miquel have been through many adventures, but they've also been through many of the ups and downs that people experience during long-term relationships. They support one another emotionally, which can be far more critical than fighting, or even physical attraction, especially given the kinds of circumstances in which they often find themselves. In other words, they aren't quite as emotionally angsty as a young couple still getting to know one another.
Like a lot of people, I get very tired of the trope where the LGBT person dies in a story, or even worse: LGBT characters that live miserable lives simply because of their sexual preferences. Those tropes are evident in both literature and film.
Most of the LGBT men and women that I know in real life are nothing like their literary and cinematic counterparts. These men and women have fought long battles in order to accept themselves for who they are, in addition to cultural fights against oppression so that others won't experience the hate and misunderstandings they were forced to endure. They have strong moral character and fierce spirits.
Those are the characteristics I wanted to portray with Diago and Miquel. These characters were designed to give you an example of two emotionally stable men living together as a married couple. I want to believe that if enough people see strong LGBT people in literature, they will be more accustomed to the idea in real life.
Those are all the thoughts I have for today. My brain is empty now. Thanks for listening.