Chuck Wendig has a good take on the annual awards season in which we are now knee-deep:
Awards are not infallible.
The best book will not always win an award.
The best book sometimes won’t ever even be nominated.
Sometimes, it will be nominated, and it will win, and you’ll cheer — at the same time someone else boos that very same decision. The book you love isn’t a book everyone loves. And vice versa.
Awards are subjective, strange, and imperfect.
They’re not the whole elephant; they’re just a blood sample.
And at the same time: awards are awesome. The people who win them? Awesome for them. And deserved. Those who are nominated but lose? Awesome for them, too. And also deserved. Those who are never nominated? Hey, fuck it — awesome for you, because you’re out there writing books and reaching an audience and doing what you fucking love to do. You didn’t win an award? Most people didn’t. A hundred other amazing authors and books and pieces of art failed to win awards. Most failed to even score nominations. You’re in good company. Continue reading