Dear awards nominees,

Whew! What a night, right? If you won last night, congratulations! If you didn’t, my condolences. There’s always next year, right? Actually, there’s always this year: if you didn’t get a Golden Globe, there’s still a chance you might get a BAFTA award, a SAG award, and of course an Oscar. Chin up!

But do me a favor, would you? If you’re nominated for one of these awards, do you think there’s a chance that you could find some time in your busy schedule the next few weeks to WRITE A GODDAMN ACCEPTANCE SPEECH?

Ooh, sorry. All caps. Got carried away there for a moment.

Seriously, though. Get on it. Last night was awful—one person after another getting up to that podium and claiming that they just couldn’t believe it, omigosh this is such a surprise, I didn’t even prepare a speech, and the first few times I was like, OK, happens every year, no big, but then by the fifth or sixth time I was like get it together, people, and then when even The Stake’s beloved Amy Poehler spouted this crap in her acceptance speech for Parks & Rec it was ANDREW ANGRY WHAT HAVE YOU MONSTERS DONE TO AMY THIS IS THE WORST THING EVER.

Gah. Caps again. Last time, I swear.

But really, I just don’t get it. The Golden Globes are a big deal, right? Like, a major recognition in your chosen profession? Did you really not spare even a moment’s thought to what you would do if you won? Are you all really so humble that it never occurred to you, sometime in the time between your nomination and the ceremony, that you might win and thus be called upon to deliver a short speech to a crowd of your most accomplished peers. Really?

Well, I’m sorry, but I just don’t buy it. You were nominated—and that had to be exciting, right? All these months spent hoping that it might be you, that when January rolled around it might be your name they called. You played it through in your head over and over, I know you did. You bought a dress or a tux, got your hair did, rented a limo, chatted it up on the red carpet, found your table, and waited. Waited and hoped.

Now, maybe it’s not in good taste to admit all this. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, all the hopes you’ve got riding on this thing. Maybe you think that not writing a speech is a way to protect yourself in case you don’t win—or maybe you think that if you get up there with prepared remarks your peers will think you’re vain: Oh, s/he prepared a speech did s/he, pretty confident s/he was going to win I guess.

Well, whatever you think, you’re wrong. Acting surprised when you win and then fumbling your way through an improvised speech doesn’t come off as down to earth or humble; it comes off as fake, and annoying. It doesn’t make us like you more; it makes us like you less.

Plus: This is your moment! This is going to be one of those things from your career that you really remember! Don’t you want to spend it saying something memorable, something wise, something real? Rather than bumbling around and sounding like a narcissistic idiot?

Awards nominees, I ask you to consider the example of Leonardo DiCaprio. He won last night for best actor in a comedy or musical for The Wolf of Wall Street, and I think it was quite obvious to everyone that he had thought about the possibility that he might win. He was prepared. And it didn’t make him sound vain or overconfident; it made him sound gracious, and respectful of his audience. He got up there and said some nice things about his fellow nominees, especially Bruce Dern. He mentioned the people who had helped him on the movie. He said thank you. And then he got the hell off the stage.

And you know what? It was perfect.

Now go out and do likewise.

XOXO,

Andrew