I Don't Want To Talk About the Beach House

Many of you have read the article at Locus Online today, and the questions have been pouring in all day. I appreciate your interest, but I really do have to say "no comment." It would be inappropriate for me to comment on our discussions of eligible works, our inter-personal crises, or our secret mission to save the world.

The deliberations of the judges is a serious -- no, a sacred task, and when John Douglas entrusted to me the sacred More-Blue-Than-Green Talisman of World Fantasy last fall, I swore that I would uphold its traditions, its powers, and the gigantic More-Blue-Than-Green Unicorn-Zord it commands with all of my powers and abilities. I could no more betray the confidence of the holders of the Chartreuse, Off-White, Unpleasantly Greenish, or Neon Lavender Talismans than I could stand aside and watch the Earth fall to the minions of the Nebula Baron, or allow his mind-controlling, swirled-stone "awards" to infect the minds of any more unsuspecting writers.

Perhaps I have already said too much. Perhaps! But with the date of the Nebula Baron's latest "Banquet" rapidly approaching, and his hideous Sef-Waa minions spreading their deadly meme viruses through cunningly concocted "Final Ballots," I can no longer stand idle and watch. Giant human-animal hybrids bred by the Nebula Baron in his secret lair on the moon regularly attack our cities, and only the crudely choreographed kung-fu of the WFA Power Judges -- in whose ranks I am proud to stand! -- has been able to battle against their childish cavortings and send them back whence they came.

Yes! It will soon be time for all five of us to place our talismans together and call down our Fantasy-Zords from the mythic world of Plo Contrivencia; time to wage the final battle against evil and hatred; time to smash the schemes of the Nebula Baron once and for all!

But, no, I can't talk about any of that.