The Hugos for fiction skipped a[nother] year in 1957, when only magazine awards were given. And so we come to 1958, and Fritz Leiber, and the short novel The Big Time
, another one I managed to miss as a younger person.
It seems rather unfair to gripe that The Big Time
comes off a bit stagy, since it is difficult to escape the sense that Leiber meant it that way. He was the son of a Shakespearean actor & appeared in a few films himself, and the theatre is a kind of low-level background...