I Won the 2026 Mike Resnick Memorial Award for Best Unpublished Science Fiction Story

No, really, I can prove it.

And here. And here. I’m not sure why my award looks different than the picture. Maybe the first is a prototype.

When I was first told I was up for it, I didn’t think much because I send a lot of submissions everywhere and don’t remember them all. But then later, it was implied to me that it would be very important for me to be there in case I won. And since DragonCon is a very important con, it’s probably a very important award, especially since Mike Resnick is a multi-Hugo winner. And how many times am I going to win a writing award in my life? So I decided, yes, I would go down to Atlanta for the day and attend the awards ceremony. Thank you, Visa reward points.

DragonCon is huge, but the ceremony was not large. Maybe fifty people in the conference room? And most of the winners were not there. But it would be foolish to expect the creators of Project Hail Mary and A Knight of Seven Kingdoms to make time for a convention where you walk past a guy holding a giant chess piece on a pole (Kinger from The Amazing Digital Circus–I guess he was going for accurate sizing). These people hobnob with Hollywood elite and fly to Croatia to scout locations.

But to my POV, it looked nice. There was a stage with a set of about 11 awards. Some were glass purple dragon flames, and a few others that I presume were special awards. There was a woman in an elegant dress who would fit right in at a televised award ceremony, but everyone else was in regular shorts and t-shirts.

Some other awards were presented. One was to Richard Garriott, who was there, to receive a kind of “lifetime achievement award.” Meanwhile, in my mind, I’m reciting instructions to myself of what I’m going to do. Walk up there, take the award, thank the person, and leave the stage. From what I could tell, it wasn’t a ceremony where they expected the winners to make speeches. Maybe the well-known ones, but not amateurs like me. In my perfect world, I would have just reached out from a hole in the floor.

And then the guy went up there and presented the Mike Resnick Memorial Award for Best Unpublished Science Fiction Story. He talked a little bit about it and what it was for (I don’t remember what he said), and then said my name. And I mutter to myself, “Oh, thank god” that I won, because despite having been implied to, I still wasn’t sure if I was going to win. It wasn’t a guarantee. Like Neil Gaiman said, I never believe there’s going to be a movie of anything until I am in the theater watching it on a screen. What if there was a mistake? What if I was fooled? Maybe this is a way to increase attendance. The day before, I was having a serious case of impostor syndrome, moping around the house. What if I didn’t win? Then I would have flown down there for nothing.

But I did. So, I followed my plan. Walk up to the stage. Take the award. Try to ignore everyone looking at me. I think I was like the first person to be present (besides Richard Garriott, who must be used to this sort of thing, and also was receiving a way more important accolade) to receive the award, so I wasn’t even 100% sure I was supposed to go up there or wait until the end so I didn’t interrupt the flow. But then I was standing. They were encouraging me to go up there. I took the award from the girl, thanked the presenter very much, and then started to walk off stage.

One of the staff sitting near the stairs asked, “Do you want to say anything?” I said no. Because I didn’t plan a speech–I didn’t have anything to say. No one has read my story–the award specifies “unpublished” fiction. No one knew who I was. I don’t deserve to say anything. I would just be some yutz no one knows talking about things.

It was all quite a blur, very fast. I can’t even remember who won the other awards. But I do remember Delilah S. Dawson and Matt Dinniman (author of Dungeon Crawler Carl) were there. And they made little speeches. So then I was thinking, Crap, I should have said something. Like I said, this might be the only award like this I win. I should have taken full advantage of what the situation offered. Although I still don’t know what the point would be because I’m still just some rando. The only people who know what I’m being awarded for are the administrators of said award. It’s like winning for “best secret”.

The photographer didn’t even get a chance to snap a picture of me on stage (as he told me once the panel was done) because I walked off so fast. And actually, they wanted a picture with all the award winners on stage. I got to stand next to Richard Garriott. I have a new answer for “biggest celebrity I’ve met”. (Although I didn’t really meet him, per se. I was just smiling like an idiot, staying silent, because I was afraid of doing or saying something stupid.) And the same stage as Matt Dinniman, the guy who’s making paths in commercial literature, like E.L. James and Sarah J. Maas and Rebecca Yarros.

I didn’t plan for DragonCon very well. In fact, if my wife wasn’t with me, I would probably still be wandering around the airport. Now that I’ve had a chance to digest everything, here is the speech I would have given if I’d dedicated half a brain cell to pre-planning.

“Wow, I haven’t won an award since Spelling Bee Seventh Grade. Thank you to everyone who keeps me going: my wife Laura, my kids Claire and Lexi. And thank you to the people of DragonCon and those who pushed to make me aware that I was up for the award. Hopefully, this won’t be the last one I win.”

My biggest hope is that this will open some doors for me. With this story having the prestigious tag, I’m going to try resubmitting it to the upper-end magazines to see if they bite. And we’ll go from there.