When David Gemmell died on 28th July 2006, aged 57, friends and colleagues wanted to find a way to honour his life and work. The consensus was to create an award in Gemmell’s name.

Apart from commemorating a widely admired author, we felt there was a need for a proper award for fantasy. By which I mean what might be called “pure” fantasy – the kind Gemmell wrote – that, at least here in the UK, seemed unregarded. Science fiction, horror, crime and other genres have their prizes, we reasoned, so why not fantasy?

We had a false start. Perhaps we were too many cooks, with too many diverse ideas about what we wanted to do and how to do it. In any event the project went into abeyance for a while.

 The impasse was broken by the writer and Gemmell protégé Deborah Miller. Rather than endless discussion and urging other people to do something, she argued, we had to roll up our sleeves and get on with it. More than anything else, Deborah’s drive and determination was what made the dream a reality.

 A core committee was formed, with Deborah as Award Administrator. Gareth Wilson, who has a good claim on being David Gemmell’s Number One Fan, came aboard as our Webmaster. Mike “Sparks” Rennie, who’s provided the Tech/Logistics for numerous conventions, agreed to do the same for us; and Christine Harrison brought her fiscal expertise to the role of Treasurer. My wife, Anne Nicholls, took on editorship of the award ceremony programme book, and I had the honour of being offered the position of Chair, which after a brief period of trepidation and false modesty, I accepted.

 We wanted to create an award recognising the best fantasy novel of any given year. What else could we call it but the Legend Award, after Gemmell’s first, most celebrated novel?

There were three options: 1) have a jury decide; 2) have the public determine a shortlist and a jury settle the final outcome; 3) have a completely open vote with no jury.

 Every juried award, particularly in a specialist area like fantasy, has the perennial problem of finding suitable judges. We considered a number of ways to resolve this problem, including the possibility of having a judging panel drawn from a pool of fantasy readers. But the massive amount of reading involved – our first longlist ran to over ninety titles – and the fact that we couldn’t reimburse people for their time and effort, made that a big ask.

 Adopting the second option – part public vote, part jury – would boil the longlist down to a manageable number, but didn’t solve the practical difficulty of finding suitable judges.

 In arriving at the decision to adopt a totally open vote we weren’t being critical of awards that choose the juried route. We’ve no doubt that their verdicts are reached honourably. But apart from the practicable considerations involved in mustering juries we have what might be called a philosophical objection to that way of doing things. Frankly, the idea of a small group handing down pronouncements about what deserves an award and what doesn’t strikes us as almost elitist, and against the spirit of our times. In an age when masses of ordinary people use technology to topple despotic regimes and change government policies, surely they can be trusted to vote for a book award.

 When our committee has to confront difficult decisions we have a simple rule of thumb – “What would Dave have wanted?” Knowing the importance he placed on readers, we’re sure Gemmell would have favoured as democratic a system as possible when it came to an award bearing his name. So we put our faith in the wisdom of crowds.

 We attracted some criticism for having a public vote. In the same way that we would have been criticised if we’d gone with a jury. One objection was that readers would band together to vote for their favourite author. But unless people are being strong-armed into voting in some unimaginable way, then presumably they really do favour the writer they’re voting for, whether in unison with others or not. If some kind of partiality should creep in – although it’s difficult to think how it might – our contention is that a sufficiently large pool of voters dilutes it to the point of insignificance.

 This is how the process works. A longlist is compiled from titles submitted by publishers, and the public are welcome to suggest additional titles they think worthy and eligible. The longlist is voted on and the five titles with the most votes forms the shortlist. A second round of votes determines the winner. We have robust systems in place to prevent multiple voting.

 We didn’t know what to expect in our first year. In the event, the Legend Award garnered many thousands of votes from 75 countries.

 Simultaneous with working out how, we were looking for where. After investigating numerous venues, we decided on The Magic Circle headquarters in London’s Euston. To say the place has character would be an understatement, and we loved its eccentricity and intimacy from the minute we stepped over the threshold.

With the how and where sorted, we turned our minds to what. We wanted something special as a trophy. Simon Fearnhamm of the Raven Armoury volunteered the perfect solution – a half-sized replica of Snaga, the awesome axe wielded by Gemmell’s illustrious hero Druss. Simon’s Snaga is a truly beautiful hand-crafted artefact. With a price tag of approximately £3000 when made to commission, we believe it to be the most valuable trophy on offer in the fantasy/sf fields.

 With the permission and support of Dave’s widow Stella and the Gemmell family, and the backing of the publishing and speculative fiction communities, our first presentation took place at The Magic Circle on 19th June 2009. We were particularly pleased that Dave’s daughter Kate and son Luke were able to join us for the ceremony. We began with a spirited reading from Legend by James Barclay, yet another of Dave’s friends. James’ opening recitations from Gemmell’s works, and his conduct of an auction of fantasy memorabilia that precedes the presentation, became invaluable staples of our ceremonies.

 Other “Friends of the Awards” as we like to think of them – people not actually on the committee but who have proved unstinting in helping the process run smoothly – include, among others, Deborah Miller’s daughter Tiffany Lau, Mark Yon, Nick Summit, Elaine Clarke, Anna Kennedy, Rachel Oakes and, again keeping it in the family, our daughter Marianne Fifer.

 The first winner of the Legend Award defied expectations – Andrzej Sapkowski’s Blood of Elves, a novel translated from Polish. The four runners-up each received a “baby Snaga” by way of compensation, a practice we continued until our stockpile ran out.

 Buoyed by the success of our initial ceremony, we decided to add two new categories in 2010. The Morningstar Award honours the best debut novel, something we thought especially important as David Gemmell was noted for the help and encouragement he gave to many aspiring writers. The Ravenheart Award was designed to recognise the best fantasy cover art, an aspect of the genre we felt deserved acknowledgement. We were now officially The David Gemmell Awards For Fantasy.

That year the Morningstar went to Pierre Pevel for The Cardinal’s Blades and the Ravenheart to Didier Graffet for the cover of Joe Abercrombie’s Best Served Cold. The Legend was again a surprise but richly deserved. It went to Graham McNeill for Empire.

 2010 was also notable in that we welcomed SFX, the UK’s number one sf and fantasy magazine, as our media partner.

 2011 saw the Morningstar awarded to Darius Hinks for Warrior Priest, the Ravenheart to Olof Erla Einarsdottir for the cover of Power and Majesty by Tansy Rayner Roberts, and the Legend to Brandon Sanderson for The Way of Kings.

 Patrick Rothfuss’ The Wise Man’s Fear  took the Legend Award in 2012; Helen Lowe’s The Heir of Night the Morningstar, and Raymond Swanland the Ravenheart for his cover for William King’s Blood of Aenarion.

 One of the things that’s delighted us about the awards is their international flavour, with prizes going to authors and artists from France, Iceland,Poland and the US as well as the UK. Proof, if it was needed, that the literary expression of the fantastic knows no borders.

 This year has seen a tragedy, and great sadness for everyone involved with the awards. On 6th May Deborah Miller passed away. She was 50 years old.

Deborah had first been diagnosed with breast cancer in 2001, and went into remission several times. The condition surfaced again early in 2013, and she fought it with her usual resolve, but treatment proved ineffective. She passed peacefully, with her husband, Bill, at her side on 13th May.

 Deborah faced her illness with courage and good humour. It’s a testament to her resolve that, despite her illness, she found the strength to do so much for the Gemmell Awards.

– A sincere thanks to Stan Nicholls for kindly granting permission to use content from his website.”