I had a wonderful time at the Nebulas last weekend, which I guess is kind of redundant, since I always have a wonderful time at the Nebulas. I missed last year’s, which were held in Florida, the first I’d skipped in about 20 years, because with two international trips planned for 2010—World Horror in Brighton and Worldcon in Melbourne—something had to give. So I was glad this year’s Nebula weekend was being held in my backyard.

Well, sort of my backyard. The Washington Hilton was 100 miles away, but that was close enough to make it feel local. So I hopped in the car mid-afternoon and drove to D.C., always a hellish thing to do. Once I parked and checked in, the first members of the tribe I found were a group in the bar which included Myke Cole, John Joseph Adams, and a guy I’d never met before who was scribbling away in a sketchpad. I commented that his drawings reminded me of the art of Basil Wolverton, and he was astonished, because he loves Basil Wolverton, and no one had ever caught on to that resemblance before. (Guess having been into comics since I was a bean has its advantages.)

Turns out I was talking to Barry Deutsch, who was nominated for this year’s Andre Norton Award for Hereville: How Mirka Got Her Sword.

We had a good, long talk about artists most modern comics fans don’t remember, such as Lou Fine and Reed Crandall, and I pulled out my iPad to show him the Eisner-esque Joe Kubert comic Jew Gangster. Meeting someone new who was also entertaining was a nice way to start the weekend.

Next it was off to dinner with John Kessel, Liza Groen Trombi, Paolo Bacigalupi, and John Joseph Adams. We went to Meskerem, an Ethiopian restaurant, which happened to be JJA’s first time with that cuisine, resulting in a lot of teasing.

The fact that an Ethiopian virgin was present led to us discussing other exotic foods, such as the guinea pig I’d had in Quito and the durian Paolo had eaten. A warning: One result of that discussion is that I’ll be bringing durian to Balticon Saturday, which Paolo and I will crack open and share with the masses. So if you’re there, and are adventurous, make sure you’re watching me on Twitter so you hear the call!

When we returned to the hotel, I happened to be discussing Michael Blumlein with John Kessel and Paul Park when the strangest moment of the weekend occurred. A woman in the lobby who had nothing at all to do with the Nebulas perked up at the mention of Blumlein’s name. It turned out that her sister is married to his brother! We chatted a bit, which might not have been such a good thing. I hope we didn’t lower Michael in her eyes by the mere fact of our knowing him!

Then came the evening reception to honor the nominees. You should have been there! Well, actually, you can be there, since I was there, and I happen to be a dangerous guy with a Flip camera. So here’s SFWA President John Scalzi, aided by Steven Silver, handing out certificates and pins to those finalists who were present.

Once the reception was over, I partied and schmoozed in the con suite (or whatever you call it, since the Nebulas aren’t really a con) until around 1:00 a.m., when I crashed in the hotel room I hadn’t decided to book until the day before. Yes, I’d been thinking I would drive home Friday night and then drive back Saturday morning, two full hours each way. But thankfully, I wised up at the last minute.

The next morning, after talking with Cynthia Felice and Oz Whiston about such cheery topics as taxes and disposing of the estates of our relatives, I headed to lunch with Geoff Landis and Mary Turzillo. We wandered restaurant row and ended up at La Fourchette. We’ve known each other a long time and don’t see each other enough. I think I met Geoff in 1986 as part of the Spacecrafts writers workshop and Mary in 1989 at the second or third Readercon under circumstances she’d rather I not tell you about. (But feel free to ask her yourself and embarrass her!)

The rest of the afternoon was spent hanging out in the lobby bar chatting with the usual suspects—Ellen Datlow, Shawna McCarthy, Rick Bowes, Bud Sparhawk, Gardner Dozois, and whoever else happened to wander by.

Since I wasn’t planning to stay over Saturday night, but was just going to head home after some post-banquet partying, I picked up my unsold books from the SFWA bookshop. As usual, my zombie collection What Will Come After had outsold my SF collection What We Still Talk About 3-1, which is what has happened at every con where I’ve had both books for sale.

Then came the banquet, which had pre-assigned seating. Just like a wedding! I was placed with Karen Newton, Bert Chamberlin, Rena Hawkins, and others I was meeting for the first time, and whose names I’m embarrassed to say I’ve forgotten. After the banquet came the speakers and the awards, with Michael Swanwick acting as Toastmaster, and Michael Dirda giving a wonderful talk as guest speaker.

And as with the Friday night reception, just because you didn’t make the banquet, doesn’t mean you can’t be there now. Yes, I pulled out my Flip and held it up for an hour or so … because I’m just that public spirited.

So pretend you’ve just finished dinner and are sipping your coffee, and click below to experience the 2011 Nebula Awards ceremony.

Unfortunately, my camera battery gave out two minutes before the end of the event, so the final acceptance speech—I’ll leave it to you to discover the winner—is cut short … though I hope you’ll agree it seems to have done so at an appropriate moment.

Once the banquet was over, I partied a bit, but not too much, not with a two-hour drive ahead of me. Next year’s Nebula Awards weekend will also be in my backyard in Arlington, Virginia, but I’m thinking that then I’ll splurge for that second night so the partying won’t have to end.

And speaking of partying, time to stop looking behind to the Nebulas and start looking ahead to Balticon. See you there!