Weblog Archives

fixing a hole

I had a wonderful time at my signing in Huntington Beach last night. There were about forty people seated when I started, and by the time I was finished, another fifteen or so had joined us.

Over the years, I've developed a pretty good sense of how the audience is relating to me, and I felt like I connected with this audience immediately, and maintained the connection all the way through. It was awesome. The last few readings I've done have been a hardcore geek conferences, you see, and there's been a very palpable "Okay, prove to us that you deserve to be here, jerk." feeling from at least part of the audience, but last night, I didn't feel any challenge or hostility from the people there, so I was able to relax and just do my thing.

Usually, I just thank people for coming, and get right into reading, but last night I tried something now: I gave a little bit of a "talk" about the internets, and the power of blogs. I talked about how blogs are a powerful communication tool, and how blogs can be used for very positive things, like helping our friend Kris when she had cancer. I also talked about this awesome auction I'm a part of to raise money and awareness for the Alzheimer's Association of Los Angeles (that is going to be so cool, it gets its own entry in the near future.)

I've been thinking a lot about how my life has changed, and I know that none of this would be happening without the examination of my life that happened because of my blog and my books. I talked a little bit about that examination, and how I discovered this thing called "the quarter life crisis," where we hit our mid-to-late twenties and freak out because we don't know what we're doing (or going to do with) our lives as we near thirty. At that time in my life, I recalled, I was struggling not only to be a successful actor, husband, and stepfather, but also to figure out who I was. My mom always told me "just be yourself, and you'll be happy." That's great advice, but it's tough to heed when you don't know who "yourself" is.

Anyway, I talked about all those things as a lead-in to the writing of Just A Geek, and to set up where I was in my life when I experienced the events I wrote about in Chapter Nine of Just A Geek (pdf file), which is what I read last night.

The actual "reading" portion of the . . . uhm . . . reading . . . was great. I felt comfortable with the material, and it is always entertaining (to me, anyway) to edit out the naughty words on the fly when I read. It was extra fun last night because people were following along in their own books, and they'd giggle when I replace "shit" with "crap," or something similar.

When my reading was done, I took a few questions, which gave me another opportunity to talk about how empowering the internet is, and how I used the internet to reassert control over my creative life. Then, I sat down and signed books for everyone there. The people who came out were all friendly and enthusiastic, and the whole experience was just wonderful. I was done about 8:45, and through the power of quantum physics, I made it up to ACME by 9:30 without ever exceeding the posted speed limit.

Shut up. I did.

who is number one? you are number six.

What's My Line? — Live On Stage! continues to get better and better, and I'm running out of ways to blog about how much fun I had on the stage, and how much the audience enjoyed the show . . . so I'm not even going to try this week. I'll just settle on: IT WAS AWESOME. If you're anywhere near Hollywood on a night that we're doing the show, you simply must come out and see us.

Tonight, my friend Drew Curtis (who is responsible for Fark) and I will be in studio together on The David Lawrence Show from 8pm until 10pm PST. We'll take phone calls and instant messages, and I can't wait to see what happens when the worlds of Fark and WWdN collide on the radio. It's going to be supermegaawesome. There are several different listening options at the show's website.

i am not a number . . . i'm a bard!

I just got back from the True Dungeon at SoCal Gencon.

Wow. What a great time! I played a Bard, and all that Improv training I've had over the years paid off . . . I got to make up a few songs, gave my party +3 in a battle, stopped us from letting something Very Bad happen . . . and got killed when the giant spider hit me for 6, and then for 14. Ah, the joys of being third level with no armor.

I'm going to write about the whole thing for my column in Dungeon, but I will say this now: if you ever get a chance to do a True Dungeon, go for it. It's a blast. They're in Anaheim through the weekend.

Foster's Down!

I play David Foster in Ghost Recon 2. I've been waiting for months to play it (ever since I recorded my first few lines of dialogue), and last night, I finally got my chance to try it out.

I couldn't sleep, so rather than lie in bed and toss around until I woke Anne and got The Wrath, I quietly went down to the living room to play.

Okay, the first mission? SO @!#$^%ING HARD! But that's good, because it sets it up for the player that this isn't going to be a cake walk. Save early, and save often, as the saying goes. :)

After several tries, I finally completed it with my entire squad intact, if slightly wounded. Funtimes!

On to mission two: blew the bridge with no problem, and lead my squad around the left side of the building complex, where we took a big group of hostiles completely by surprise! Yes! A few times, I heard me (Foster) tell myself, "Great shot!" or "Fire in the hole!" I must say, I am quite the badass . . . and so is David Foster.

So.

After we cleared this courtyard, I consulted my map and saw that we had a few hundred meters to cover before we met up with the British squad, so decided to send my men on the right flank while I went up the left side.

"Copy that," is that last thing I heard myself (Foster) say before a hail of gunfire errupted from behind some bushes.

"GARRAGGHHH!!!!!" I (Foster)screamed.

"Foster's been hit, captain!" Someone in my squad said, while I listened to myself (Foster) writhe in agony. "Oh shit!" I thought. "I have to save myself!"

I ordered my squad to lay down suppressive fire on the two North Koreans who had me (Foster) pinned down, and I crawled through the grass until I was close enough to adminster aid.

I heard the zip of the bullet cut through the air in front of me, just before it buried itself into my (Foster's) head.

"Foster is down!"

"We've lost Foster!"

"NOOOOO!" I shouted, loud enough to wake my entire house.

Luckily, the doors were all closed, and maybe my scream was louder in my head than it was in my living room, because The Wrath I would have gotten when Anne realized I was mourning my (Foster's) death in a video game would not have been pretty.

I reloaded the mission and tried again. This time, I ordered Foster to hang back while I tossed way too many grenades near the area where I knew the hostiles were lurking. Yeah, I spammed 'em good.

We hooked up with the Brits, held off a pretty nasty assault while we waited for extraction, and made it into the chopper relatively unscathed.

This game is fantastic. Between GR2 and San Andreas, I don't know how I'm going to get anything done between now and . . . March?

i'll be on VH1 tonight

If you've got VH1, you can watch me tonight on My Coolest Years: The Geeks.

VH1 says:

"Nobody gets through high school without feeling like a total loser now and again. But God help you if you were unusually intelligent, gifted in something other than sports, or a little more shy than normal . . ."

. . . or the geeky kid on Star Trek who knew more about Car Wars vehicle design than talking to girls.

I did about three hours of interviews with VH1, and I have no idea what they'll use . . . but I watched "The Metalheads" last night, and like most of the VH1 nostalgia shows, it was super cool. The show airs at 10/9c.

getting stuck in salami and beer

I watched My Coolest Years: The Geeks with Anne and the kids last night. I thought the show was fantastic, and I was honored to be in such great company. Open note to The Cool Guy who tormented Jessi Klein or the girls from The Donnas: Dude, wherever you are, you are a loser.

Biggest surprise of the show: John Tesh is hellafunny! I remember that he played a Klingon for a day on Next Generation in the episode "The Icarus Factor." Well, "played a Klingon" is probably a little too much . . . he was sort of a featured extra in a line of about twenty guys who wore Klingon makeup and costumes, and snarled while they zapped Worf with painsticks. (Back then, a metric ton of celebrities wanted to be on the show, and they usually ended up wearing crazy alien make-up. Mick Fleetwood was this weird fish-looking thing, for example.)

I remember that he was really friendly, and seemed to be getting a HUGE kick out of the whole thing, but I don't remember him being as funny as he was on My Coolest Years last night.

Best moment of the show: When I saw that they titled me "Wil Wheaton: Author of Just A Geek" (which reminds me: Just A Geek has been recommended by Quint, from Ain't It Cool News! I am in incredibly good company over there, too. Thanks, Quint!) instead of That Other Thing.

That's a big deal to me, you know. Though I personally feel that I'm finally emerging from the shadow of America's Favorite Acting Ensign And Starfleet Academy Classmate Killing Cadet, I wonder if I'll ever do that in the eyes of the entertainment industry. This morning's Dork Tower gives a funny-because-it's-true view of how that effort is playing out in fandom.

. . . and in casting too, now that I really think about it . . . but that's okay. The Path I'm currently wandering is a good one.

Absolute coolest moment in the show: They put up a picture of me with my überhot wife as part of the "Geeks Ultimately Win, So Bite It, You Cool Kids" portion of the show. Ryan just about died when he saw Anne, in the coolest "I'm fifteen and I'm so proud of my mom" way. (Apparently, the kids on his baseball team tried to torment him by singing "Ryan's mom has got it goin' on" to the tune of "Stacey's Mom," and he silenced them by replying, "Yeah. My mom's hot. So what?" Sweet.)

Tonight, VH1 gives us My Coolest Years: The Dirty Hippies, which should be hilarious. It looks like My Coolest Years could end up being as great as I Love The 80s, or maybe even better. Go Generation X! Rock! Yeah! \m/

If anyone from VH1 reads this: I had a blast, you guys. Thanks for making me look cool. I'd love to work with you some more.

hot heads under silent wigs

Three things for a Sunday afternoon:

1. It was 85 degrees here yesterday and Friday. Can you believe that? I guess Demeter worked something out with Hades, and got temporary custody of Persephone for the weekend.

2. The ACME show last night was amazing. I have been in a lot of ensemble casts in my life, and this cast is one of the best. It is truly a privilege to share the stage with them, and I can't wait to do this show every week. I remember feeling this way back in 2001 when I was doing my first ACME show "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Sunday Show." The camaraderie backstage creates a trust and relaxation onstage, which takes the show up to eleven. There's already talk of extending our show past the usual ten weeks, because it's getting such a great response from the audience.

3. I read this in the comments recently, but I'm putting it here for the RSS folks who probably missed Troy Rutter's The Top 10 Ways You Know You've Been Reading Wil Wheaton's Blog Too Much . . .

10. You pronounce Wil's site as "dubya dubya dee enn" in general conversation.
9. You take a trip to California to go geocaching hoping to see Wil's name in the log.
8. You try to send an update to the IMDB to change Ernest's last name to Borg9.
7. You Photoshop Wil's name onto a box of Wheat Thins.
6. You buy the "Wil has a posse" thong for your girlfriend.
5. You write a letter to the producers of Alias pleading with them to write Wil into a dream sequence for Sidney.
4. You wish you could go back in time to help Wil kick his own ass.
3. You buy a case of voodoo dolls and put the last name "Kimmel" on all of them.
2. You apologize out loud to Wil when Foster dies in Ghost Recon 2.
1. You watch Boston Legal and at the end of the credit you scream "That's William FUCKING Shatner!"

Thanks, Troy! The last time I was in a top ten list, it featured clever ways to kill my Star Trek character. Six of them involved Klingons and soap-on-a-rope, but your list more than balances that out.

listen . . .

I wanted to share with WWdN readers this amazing thing I discovered via boingboing recently: Comfort Stand Records.

I'm listening to Swingin' Singles while I do this work . . . and I absolutely must share this record with you WWdN readers. It rules. Stand out artists include Math and Physics Club, Forty-One, Messer Chups (particularly Orgia of dead 2), and Kim & Buran — and that's just the first side of the collection. I haven't even gotten to side b yet.

But here's the greatest thing in the world about these artists and this label: every track and album is released under a Creative Commons license, so you can download, burn, and share the music with anyone you want legally. Comfort Stand sez: "Comfort Stand Recordings is a community-driven label where all releases are free with artwork and liner notes. We strive to bring you recordings that we find interesting, compelling and downright enjoyable. We are not genre-specific and feature a wide range of material, from well-known performers to those loud unknown kids down your block.

We are not a business. We're not out to make a profit. There are no banners, popups, or spam at Comfort Stand. You don't have to register yourself to download the music you like. We operate under the ideology that money need not come between artists and audience."

There's a lot of lousy free music on the internets. It's nice to listen to some really good free music for a change.

Enjoy . . .

lost at sea

I am having a really hard time sleeping. For almost three weeks, I try to go to sleep between ten and midnight. I fall asleep for about ten or fifteen minutes, and then I wake with a start. My legs feel antsy behind my knees, my brain won't shut up, and I end up tossing and turning for about twenty minutes, until I get so angry that I get out of bed and read until at least one in the morning. Last night, it was two-fucking-forty before I was able to fall asleep. When I wake up, I have a headache, my neck hurts, and I feel like I haven't slept at all. This is really getting old.

I know it's not diet, but it could be lack of exercise. I was pretty damn sick the last two weeks, and running when I have a cold is the opposite of enjoyable. Darin says that I should exercise more, and I agree. I miss running, and I discovered, to my horror, that I've put on nearly ten pounds since August — a product of my Body By Guinness and Linux fitness fatness program.

But it's more than just that. If I'm honest with myself, I actually think my brain is kicking me out of bed every night because there's stuff I have to deal with that I've been avoiding: things I need to write, people I need to talk to, and issues I need to resolve. Anne recently did what she calls "Emotional Housekeeping," and I think I'm going to do it myself.

So today, I will catch up on e-mail (I got it down to 200-ish, but it's swelled back up to > 500), and finish several interviews (including Slashdot's Ask Wil Wheaton Anything). I will also take some ideas that have been brewing in my brains and move them into my The Writer's Notebook, to make room for new ones. A symptom of my insomnia (and maybe it's wrapped up in the cause) is a lack of inspiration. I haven't sat down to do any real creative writing in far too long, and I'm starting to feel performance anxiety, you know? It's like standing at the edge of a pool that you know is filled with cold water: the longer you stand at the edge, the harder it becomes to get up the courage to dive in.

I hope that getting all these unresolved e-mails and related issues taken care of will encourage my brain to actually quiet down when I want to go to sleep.

Weird . . . when I started writing this, I truly didn't know why I've been so agitated, but I think I just got it — or at least I've got it narrowed down. Who says blogging isn't therapeutic?

last chance to see What's My Line

It's Wednesday, and that means it's time for the weekly reminder that I'll be appearing at the Acme Comedy Theatre tonight for What's My Line? Live on Stage! As always, the show starts at 8, and more details can be found at j.keith.net, including a two-for-one discount.

This is the last show we're doing for this season, so if you've been putting it off, tonight would be a good time to come out and see us. You could try to come out next week, I suppose, but the show will be 95% - 100% less funny. Your personal funny will vary according to how willing you are to stare at an empty theatre.

Thanks to a TON of writing, the restarting of my exercise program, and a melatonin, I've actually slept straight through the last two nights, and I haven't woken with the headache and stiff neck. Thank you to everyone who shared in my insomnia pain. Your advice and sympathy is very much appreciated.

just a geek's first newspaper review!

Okay, I'll admit it. I have a "Wil Wheaton" as a Google News Alert. I'd say it's an ego thing . . . but it gets triggered so rarely, that's sort of counterintuitive. It's actually a business thing, so I can be aware press and stuff, but I'll be honest: I do get a little thrill when one hits my inbox.

So about a week ago, I got a news alert because I was very kindly mentioned in a brief bit about Sean Astin in the Oregonian:

You loved him as loyal hobbit Sam Gamgee in the "Lord of the Rings" films. You adored him in "Rudy." But to you, Astin will always be the kid from "The Goonies," a film that is widely considered The Best Movie Ever Filmed In Oregon. Hold onto your mithril, kids: Astin is coming to Portland. Naturally, you will want to show him a good time.

A Sean Astin autobiography? Well, sure. (Like you didn't positively inhale the latest Wil Wheaton book.) Astin's opus, "There and Back Again: An Actor's Tale," spills the candid scoop on backstage antics during the filming of "The Lord of the Rings" and the challenges of living the Hollywood way.

(dorky bolding is mine)

I was so excited, I sent a note to the reporter that said:

I just finished reading your OregonLive piece about Sean Astin's impending visit to Portland ("Let's go!," by Chelsea Cain, A&E, Dec. 3), and I wanted to thank you for kindly mentioning my book, "Just a Geek." I've got strong connections to Oregon (I filmed "Stand by Me" in Eugene, and my wife is from Portland), so even though I'm from Los Angeles, I felt like I saw my name in my hometown paper. Thanks for that! :)

See ya, Wil Wheaton Los Angeles

She wrote me back and thanked me for e-mailing, I wrote her back again, (it's sort of like passing notes in class, without the possible thrill of getting caught) one thing led to another . . . and she wrote a story about me that is in today's Oregonian! My three favorite bits:

• Since the success of his blog, Wheaton has published two laugh-out-loud books and established himself as a fresh, funny and self-deprecating writer. Much of his material comes out of his life as a geek (he also pens a column for Dungeon Magazine, the must-read for D&D players).

  The Oregonian recently caught up with the ensign-turned-author for a Very Serious Interview.



• Have you ever read any "Star Trek" fan fiction?

  Just one . . . and in it, Lt. Worf traded my character, Wesley, to a Romulan for a Romulan Ale and two packs of smokes. I haven't read fan fiction since.

  [I originally said that Wesley was Worf's Prision Bitch, but that was ruled unacceptable for a family publication . . . which I guess I've just determined WWdN is not.]



• Whose work do you read to get inspired?

  David Sedaris and Stephen King are the two most influential authors in my life. They both tell stories in ways that are engaging and easy to read. David Sedaris' "Me Talk Pretty One Day" made me want to tell stories about my life, and Stephen King's "On Writing" taught me how to do it.

Accompanying the story is the very first mainstream media review of Just A Geek! It's phenomenal, and includes the following observation, which made me so happy, I peed a little:

"Just a Geek" is not a celebrity memoir. It is more a collection of humorous commentaries with one essential theme: How does a grown-up geek with two step-kids, a wife, and few job prospects make a go of it?

[Wheaton's] sarcasm, honesty, heart and ferocious gift for dialogue are a delight.

So far, I haven't been able to effectively communicate to people who haven't read my book that it's not limited to a Star Trek or celebrity memoir-reading audience, and people outside that audience may want to give Just A Geek a chance. It has been the most frustrating thing in the world, and it's severely limited the audience that I can reach. To date, I haven't gotten any support to reach beyond . . . well, you guys who read WWdN, so I've had to do it on my own. I've felt pretty down about the whole thing recently (it's about 90% of the not sleeping well thing), because things are not going the way I expected they would with Just A Geek, but this fantastic review is going to be a big help, and will hopefully open a lot of doors for me.

happiness and cheer, families draw near

According to The Man, I need to walk for about a week before I can start running again, so I've been dragging my lazy ass out of the house for the last few days, and reminding my muscles what it feels like to do more than move from the office to the living room and back. This hasn't been as difficult as I thought it would be, because I'm super motivated to get back into shape, and the weather in Los Angeles has been just amazing. Right now, it's 71 in my backyard, and it has been near 80 for almost a week. I have also taken the boredom out of walking by listening to America: The Audio Book by Jon Stewart and the writers from The Daily Show. It's awesome, and I highly reccommend it.

This morning, I added two miles to my walk, which took me past Nolan and Ryan's elementary school. The streets around the school were lined with cars, and I paused my iPod long enough to hear a chorous of children singing holiday tunes as I passed the auditorium. It reminded me of a blog entry I wrote a few years ago, which didn't make it into Just A Geek. The original is in the archives, but rather than cut-n-paste, I did a little . . . uh . . . cleaning up, because, well . . . uh . . . wow.

Hope new readers like it, and hope returning readers don't mind the reprint.

I am Jack's Holiday Program
Originally published on December 20, 2001, edited on December 15, 2004

I just got back from watching Nolan's holiday program at his school.

Nolan is in 5th grade this year, so it's the last elementary school holiday program I'll probably ever see, and when I realized that this morning, I felt immense regret for all the years I attended because I felt obligated to be there, rather than truly looking forward to the show.

For years, Anne and I would arrive at the school moments before the show began, and we'd end up standing in the back, with all of the other parents who overslept, or took too long for breakfast, or had to grab a quickie once the kids were at school. But this year, Anne got there nice and early, and grabbed us two seats with a great view of the stage.

Unfortunately, our great view was tainted a little bit by the horrible people who surrounded us. To my immediate right, I present the old woman who kept farting loudly throughout the entire show. I will not deny that there was more than a little amusement value in listening to them reverberate off the metal cafeteria chairs, but they weren't just the loud "hey, pull my finger" farts. They were the really horrible, lingering, "holy shit, man! Was that you?" ones. Behind us to the right, please enjoy the two little kids who did not stop talking the entire time, except when their mother told them that a good way to stay occupied would be to stand on the floor and bang on their chairs in time to the music. And finally, say hello to the kid immediately behind me, who had one of those little kid colds, and coughed and sneezed throughout the whole performance. I especially loved it when he sneezed all over the back of my neck.

Once the show got started, though, all the annoyances that surrounded us insignificantly faded into the background, as we focused our attention on the stage. All of the classes were great, and the kids were just adorable. The theme this year was Peace and Diversity, which is very funny, considering that I live in the most reactionary, demagogic Republican area in the freakin' world. (All of my neighbors had those offensive "Protect Marriage" signs last year, when the homophobes were trying to make it certain that marriage should only be between men and women. Because those marriages always succeed. And we have to keep the gays from soiling that sacred, unspoiled institution, right?) Sorry. mini-rant. I'm back now.

Nolan's class performed the Christmas carol "O, Tannenbaum," which meant that I spent the last five weeks helping Nolan learn three verses in German, so I could sing along. It was easy to pick out the other 5th grade parents, because they were singing too. Nolan was so adorable in his red sweater and Santa Claus hat, and he held his head high as he belted out, "O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum, wie treu sind deine Blätter!" He did all the same things on the stage that he did when we were learning the song: when he sang "Du grünst nicht nur zur Sommerzeit" he clenched his hands into tiny fists and looked at the ceiling. When he sang "Nein auch im Winter, wenn es schneit" he punctuated the three syllables in wenn es schneit with little punches in front of his chest.

I am certain that I, like all the other parents, was able to pick out and isolate my child's voice from the chorus, and I am equally certain, as were the other parents, that my child had the sweetest voice, and turned in the most adorable and memorable performance that has ever graced the cafetorium's stage. Or any cafetorium's stage, for that matter.

My absolute favorite moment was watching Nolan's subdued Joe Cocker as he sang,of course . . . but coming in a close second was when these kids read poems about winter. There were 4 kids up on the stage, all in their holiday finest, who each read a different winter-related poem. The first kid read "The Snowman" by Shel Silverstein, and I'm embarrassed to report that I can't recall what the middle two kids did. But the last kid, who looked an awful lot like Dewey from "Malcolm in the Middle", who wore a checkered shirt and non-matching clip-on tie (it was so damn cute, I couldn't stand it) recited, from memory, a poem by elementary school staple Jack Prelutsky, which was quite an impressive achievement, especially for a third grader. This kid did a great job, and when he was done, he proudly scanned the audience, clearly looking for his parents. When he found them, shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "Well, that's about as good as it gets", and picked his nose and ate it.

Nolan starts Middle School next year, and I realized this morning how much I'm going to miss not just these performances, but all the things that are part of elementary school: the macaroni art work, the turkey on Thanksgiving that's made from a little handprint on brown paper, the mobiles at Christmas that are made from sixteen inches of yarn, green construction paper cutouts that look like trees if you squint, and fifty pounds of glue.

I know that they'll both be in high school before I know it, and then they'll be off to college . . . but wherever my stepkids are, I'll always have these memories to keep me company each holiday season.

Happy Holidays, everyone. I hope you get to spend some time this season with people you love.

winter break

Ryan and Nolan start their Winter break today, and I have decided to take a Winter break of my own. I'm dangerously close to getting burn out, so I'm taking this week off, to spend time with my family. I'm thinking about maybe doing some geocaching, probably watching some Return of the King extended edition, and definitely a lot of playing Magic with Nolan.

I can't believe that there are just eleven days left in 2004, and for the first time in years I'm not looking back in frustration on the year that could have been, I'm looking back fondly on the year that was . . . and excitedly looking toward the year to come.

Merry, Happy, Joy, and Peace everyone.

Especially Peace.