In the world of Windswept, people sign long contracts with conglomerates to become Indentures. Part of that contract is that you have a tattoo on your cheek denoting your field of expertise. These tattoos are fashionable, flattering, and they hurt like hell when applied.

When people Breach their Indenture and sign up with the Universal Freelancer’s Union, they get another tattoo, one of the Union’s logo, a clenched fist. It’s a reminder that an injury to one is an injury to all, and that all will pound the bejeezus out of anyone who starts something.

Read MoreLook for the Union Label…right on your face.

July 17 / Windswept

I feel like I read and watched and listened a lot last year. In retrospect, a lot of that was older, but them’s the breaks when you uncouple yourself from things like broadcast listing and publishing schedules and the mad crush of getting a steel rocketship as validation of one’s career choices.

(Granted, I think it would be cool to win one of those rocketships one day, but I think it would be much, much cooler if many tens of thousands of people bought my books. That way, I could buy a lot of tacos and pretend they’re rocketships on a one-way trip to the gaping maw of my open, hungry mouth. I am Rakunas, Devourer of Worlds. I mean, Tacos.)

Something else: since I get to read a lot of friends’ work before it’s published, seeing the actual objets d’art is a pleasant surprise, like finding twenty bucks in your pocket after doing the laundry. “Oh, that book I really liked? It’s out? And it’s eligible for stuff? Well, that’s cool!”

So, here’s what I consumed and put on my ballot.

Read MoreStuff I Read And Saw Last Year And Liked Enough To Nominate For A Hugo