Month: November 2004

I don’t know why I’ve always loved the desert. Maybe it’s the clean air, the limitless stars at night, or the strange romance I’ve always felt for seclusion, or maybe it’s just all that sand . . . but I really do love it, so when I was asked to head out there for a book signing, I jumped at the chance.
It turns out the desert doesn’t love me as much as I love it — hardly anyone showed up at the bookstore when I did my reading, and I think the owners sold a grand total of 30 books the entire time I was out there.
See, the average crowd at a book signing since I started promoting Just A Geek has been about 80. The largest was well over 100, and the smallest (until this weekend) was about 30 . . . but I guess my target audience just isn’t out there in Palm Springs.
I felt so bad, because the guys who own the bookshop are so nice, and took such good care of me and my family, but for whatever reason, I just didn’t draw people out there. . The bookshop guys told me that it’s hit or miss out there, and not to feel bad . . . but I wanted them to at least make back their costs, you know? I think it’s just that Palm Springs is a much “older” town than my target audience, and most of the press materials stressed the Star Trek-ness of my book. I need to develop some materials that talk about the other aspects of this book that non-Trekkies or WWdN readers can relate to. If you’ve read Just A Geek and wouldn’t mind sending me some ideas, or posting them in comments, maybe we can brainstorm something useful.
Anyway, there were only about 12 people at the bookstore on Friday night, which would have made me super depressed a year ago, (like my experience at LosCon, for example) but I heeded some advice someone gave me about speaking to small groups of people: enjoy the intimacy of the smaller crowd, and honor the few people who did show up, rather than wasting energy on the people who didn’t. So the reading on Friday, which could have been a real bummer, ended up being one of my favorites.
Because the group was so small, I could take more time to read and talk, because I knew I’d get through the signing in about 4 minutes. I read from Just A Geek as planned, but I also got to read the story “Ready or Not, Here I Come” from Dancing Barefoot, which was a real treat for me. I don’t know if I blogged about this or not, but way back when my first Monolith Press printing of Barefoot showed up, I gave the first copy to Anne, and the next two to the kids. Ryan and Nolan were so excited to be in the book, and so excited to be in that story, I remember them both declaring with absolute certainty, “No, I am the kid in the drawingI I was totally wearing a cap just like that one when we played that night!” I just loved it that they were so excited to be part of something I created, and when I read the story on Friday night, it brought back the game, and the joy of holding my first book in my hands.
If the group at the store on Friday hadn’t been so small, I wouldn’t have been able to just pick Barefoot from a lady sitting about three feet from me and ask the group, “Do you mind if I read you a short story from this book?” after I’d been talking about how having a family to love and support turned my focus from Proving To Everyone That Quitting Star Trek Wasn’t A Mistake onto just being a good husband and stepfather — and enjoying the experience of my life with them.
I haven’t picked up Dancing Barefoot, other than to read a brief selection from SpongeBob Vega$ Pants at a con, in months. But when read from it on Friday I remembered how much I love that little book, and how proud of it I am. It’s really like my first-born child, and the stories in it about my family made me so happy, I decided that I’m going to do another Barefoot-style book, this one with stories that are just about family. Earlier today, I went through my blog archives and also looked through the stuff I cut from Geek, and I have more than enough material (some of it just notes that never made it onto the blog, which will be developed into complete stories) for another book. This one will probably be a little bit longer than Barefoot, and I have a cool idea for the illustrations (that I’ll talk about if / when it works out.) It’s going to be wonderful, and if everything goes according to the plan just forming in my head, it should be available from Monolith Press early next year.
Overall, I had a good time in the desert. I got to bring Anne and the kids out, and we got to enjoy some desperately needed family bonding time, away from any disruptions.
There was also something very cool reading about my family when they were right there in the room. Afterwards, Nolan told me he thought about raising his hand and asking, “So tell me the truth . . . are the kids you talked about really that cool?”
Heh. Yes. Yes they are.

I’ve got a big old Weekend of Just A Geek-ness out in Palm Springs, starting today.
If you’re in the area, and you’d like to drop by and listen to a reading, or get a book signed, here are the details for the trip:
Thursday
7:30 – 9:30 pm : I’ll be in the Peppertree Bookstore booth at the Palm Springs Villagefest, which is apparently set up on N. Palm Canyon Dr. from Baristo Rd. to Amado Rd.
Friday
7:00 pm : This is the Big Night! I’ll be performing some selections from Just A Geek, and signing copies of both my books, at the Peppertree Bookstore (notice the theme? 🙂 which is at 633 N. Palm Canyon Drive in Palm Springs.
Saturday
3:00 pm : I wrap up my three days of Peppertree Bookstore-sponsored excitement with another signing in their booth at the Home Decorating & Remodeling Show at the Palm Springs Convention Center.

Well, I never had time to write up the ApacheCon report . . . because I got a call late last night to audition for Alias at noon today.
Holy shit. Alias!
So I spent all last night, and most of this morning, preparing for the audition. I just got back from a fantastic What’s My Line? performance, and since I need to “unwind” right now, I’ll tell you all about my audition while it’s still in my mind.
In Just A Geek, I wrote about how there are a ton of factors that I can’t control when I go to an audition, and how important it is to work on the few factors that I can control. I love Alias almost as much as I love Jennifer Garner, so I ensured that everything I could control was absolutely perfect. The material was extremely well-written, so learning it was super easy. I made bold and clear character choices, and — most importantly — I decided that I was going to enjoy the opportunity to audition for one of the greatest shows on television.
The character was described as “early 30s, charmingly familiar.” I’d love to say more, but I don’t want to blow it for fans of the show, or piss off the writers . . . so that’s all you get. 🙂
“‘Familiar!’ Hey! That’s me!” I shouted across the living room to Anne, when I took the sides off the FAX machine last night.
“Yeah, you’re totally That Guy,” she said.
I was already excited about the audition, but when I saw the character described as “familiar”, I got +5 excited, because I can actually be That Guy. Until I sort of went into semi-forced-semi-retirement a year or so ago, just about every part I auditioned for was not exactly for my “everyman” type, and it was incredibly frustrating (and documented in Just A Geek) to keep hearing “you’re a great actor, but you’re not [tall, short, sexy, scary, famous] enough for the part.
In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising to hear those comments, because I kept auditioning for parts where no matter how skillful my performance was, I wasn’t going to book the job, because my essences were wrong for the character. See, one of the factors completely beyond my control when I go into an audition are my essences. By that, I mean those certain things that I have so deeply embedded into my soul, I take them with me everywhere I go, no matter what I’m doing. If I’m playing a hero, or a villain, a leading man (quit laughing) or a nerdy neighbor, I’m always going to have this “I can relate to that guy” quality. I’m going to be a little too smart for my own good, and there will always be this faint sense of sadness, too. There’s nothing I can do about that — it’s just part of who I am — so if I have to play a character who is, well, let’s just pick any random word . . . how about . . . edgy, for instance, I’m boned. I yam what I yam, as the wacky sailor used to say.
But while I worked on the scenes for today, I knew that I was already standing on a strong foundation, and that freed me up to develop an interesting character. I also got to do a whole lot of looking at Jennifer Garner on teh Intarweb . . . for, uhm . . . research, you know.
The call was at Disney, and I got there nice and early . . . but still waited almost 25 minutes to park my car. Apparently, today was “Bring your toddler to Disney for something” day, and the place was just swarming with happy families. A few years ago, it would have annoyed the crap out of me that I was delayed getting into my audition, but I instead thought to myself, “I bet this is slowing everyone down, so it won’t actually make me late at all, in a relative sense. Maybe I should just enjoy the infectious happiness of these little kids.” I took my own advice, and when I finally got to the writer’s building (23, if you’re scoring at home) I was in very high spirits. “I can’t believe that I get to audition for fucking Alias!” I kept thinking.
I signed in, and saw that my friend and frequent WWdN commenter Keith Coogan had come in earlier in the day. I always like it when I see people I know on the sign-in sheet, as if I needed another reason to smile.
I read over my scenes while I waited, and when they took in the actor ahead of me (Eddie Kaye Thomas, best known as “Finch” from the American Pie movies), I stepped outside and ran over the scenes. I must have looked like one of those crazy actors who’s outside acting to a tree or a bicycle (it was a folded up pingpong table for me, today) but I didn’t care. I was going to go in there and give a great audition. I timed it perfectly — when it was my turn to go into the room, I had read them over twice, and I was at the peak of readiness.
“I just want to warn you,” the casting assistant told me as we walked down the hallway, “that there are about fifteen people in the room. It’s like a pilot session in there.”
I laughed. “I’ll be sure to play to the back row,” I said.
“This is Wil Wheaton,” she said as we walked into the room.
The room was the same as ever: a huge conference table took up about 80% of the rectangular room, and about fifteen people sat across it, along its long edge They all nodded, or waved, or made some sort of friendly greeting. “Okay, this is totally not like a pilot session,” I thought, “These people are way too nice.”
There was a metal folding chair pushed against the table, presumably for the actors to sit in, but I had no intention of using it.
“Do you mind if I stand up for this?” I said.
“I think that would be appropriate,” the casting director said, not unkindly.
I slated my name, and started the first of two scenes . . . which I won’t describe, so I don’t get sued.
When I was done with the first scene, one of the producers (clearly a Very Important Producer, by the way everyone deferred to him) looked right at me and said, “That was really wonderful!”
The rest of the room nodded in agreement, and though I couldn’t tell if they were agreeing because of who he was, or because they actually agreed with his assessment of my performance, I have done this long enough to know when someone is full of shit or not, and this producer wasn’t full of shit. His compliment was genuine, and that just doesn’t happen very often anymore. It meant a lot to me.
“Thank you,” I said, as I started the second scene.
I was totally off-book for both scenes, and gave a very solid performance. When I was done, I actually wanted to do a lame little dance out in the hallway, because I felt so happy with the work I’d done. I even allowed myself a happy thought: “I think I may have just booked a job!”
When I got to my car, I called Anne before I pulled out of my parking space.
“Did you get it?” She said.
“I won’t know for a few hours . . . but I wouldn’t change a single thing. I am so happy with my audition, Anne. It was awesome.” I told her about the producer’s compliment, and how I went in after Finch.
“That’s so cool! Call me as soon as you know something.” She said.
“Okay. I love you.”
“You too.”
I hung up, and drove home, where I spent the next few hours trying to catch up on e-mail (I got down from 500 unreads to 309 unreads in about two hours. Not too shabby!)
Around 5pm, while I was getting ready to leave for ACME, I got the phone call from my manger.
“They loved you, Wil.” He said. “Everyone in that room responded to you very positively. . .”
We’ve had this conversation too many times. “But . . .” I said.
“But, you’re not physically large enough for the part. They want someone who’s much bigger than Jennifer Garner.”
To be entirely honest, I wasn’t surprised. I’ve had five auditions in the last six weeks, and for each part, I haven’t gotten the job because of the way I look (I was too short for one, they changed another part to female, I wasn’t “tough” enough for one, and I forget the other two, but it was pretty much the same thing.)
“Well,” I said. “I’m not going to try to act like I’m not bummed . . . but goddammit.”
“They’re definitely going to bring you back in the future,” he said.
“Did they say that?”
“No, but trust me.”
“Okay,” I said. I remembered how happy I felt when I walked out of the room. “I had a really good time, Chris.” I told him about the producer who complimented me.
“Was it genuine?” He said.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think it was. That was awesome!”
“Good. You’re doing the show tonight, right?” he said.
“Yeah. I’m actually about to leave right now.”
“Well, break a leg. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
And that is the story of how I almost got to spend eight days acting like I was smitten with Jennifer Garner.
. . . yeah, “acting.” That’s it.

We just walked in from ApacheCon. I’ll give a full report as soon as I have a chance to write it up, but here are a few quick impresisons:
I was scared absolutely shitless when I gave my talk yesterday morning, and The Voice Of Self Doubt was so loud in my ears, I had a hard time hearing my own voice. It took me a long time to shut him up so I could just talk, but when I did, and I hit my stride, I felt like I got some good points across, and I got very positive feedback from a lot of people, including two people who told me that they’d gone into my talk convinced that blogs were lame, but left equally convinced that they were a powerful tool to empower people who have something to say.
Last night, I found out that I hosed the link to ApacheCon in the previous blog entry, with the rookie move of leaving out the “http://” in the link. Brilliant thing to do the day before I go and talk to the people who make teh Intarweb exist. I lost a terrabyte terabyte (jesus, could I be more lame?) of cool points for that blunder. I gotta tell you, there’s nothing more embarrassing (and frustrating) than finding out that I hosed something on my blog, and I don’t have a chance to fix it for over 24 hours. (I’ve since decided to leave the screwed up link, just to piss off the W3C and so there’s a nice LAME mark on my permanent record.)
Last night, I played some 3-6 poker at the Mirage with a table composed exclusively of ApacheCon geeks like me, and it RULED. The Mirage is now my official Favorite Poker Room In The World (details on that in the full report post). Anne and I also discovered a fantastic Tiki Bar, in the Venetian, called “Venus.” If you’re into that sort of thing (and I’m a HUGE dork for ultra-modern lounge culture, Tiki music, and drinks that come in a bowl on fire) you should go there NOW. I heard that they’re going to close it down pretty soon.
At 2:30 this morning, they imploded a hotel across the street from us. I’m glad I knew it was coming, because the explosions and resulting collapse of said hotel would have scared me almost as much as standing in front of the con on Monday morning.
More tomorrow. My dogs want to take a walk.

A friend of mine called me yesterday, worried, because I haven’t updated my blog in almost a week.
“Well, I’m glad you waited a whole week to call me,” I said, “because if I were dead, I’d be getting pretty stinky right now.”
“That makes no sense at all,” he said.
“I don’t have to make sense!”I said, “I’m beautiful, Lois!”
“Well, you’re still able to quote Family Guy,” he said, “so I’m going to assume you’re just busy.”
And he was right. I’ve been too busy to sit down and write about anything . . . and most of what’s going on in my life right now is either: a) too personal to blog about b) Totally Top Secret And I Can’t Talk About It or c) it’s so goddamned boring, it’s not worth the effort to talk about how boring it is.
One of the very few things that I can talk about that doesn’t fit the above criteria is Mac World!
The press release already went out, so I didn’t get a chance to scoop it, but the Really Big News is that I’ve been invited to speak at MacWorld in San Francisco in January.
I have been a Mac user since the very early days of the Mac 128. I wrote my first stories on that machine, and I still have the printouts from the dot-matrix printer I used way back then. I’ve been to several MacWorld expos, and I can’t believe that I actually get to be a part of the show.
Until now, the largest audience I’ve ever addressed was close to five thousand people at the Royal Albert Hall in London, but the audience I will at MacWorld will probably be the largest I’ve ever been in front of in my life. I hear that they’re expecting somewhere between five and six thousand people in the room, plus I think there will be some sort of simulcast online (and I’ll release my presentation under Creative Commons again,) so I could theoretically reach ten thousand people. I’m used to addressing an average crowd of about 150 people, and I get a little anxious when the crowd approaches 500 . . . but thousands?
Eep.
I should feel too nervous to even move . . . but my nerves are totally overwhelmed by excitement, because I didn’t get this invitation because I Used To Be Wesley On Star Trek, or anything like that. I got this invitation to speak because one of the MacWorld organizers saw me perform Just A Geek at Gnomedex!! It feels like I earned the opportunity, and I’m going to give the performance of my life when I’m there.
Remember when I wrote that I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be in my life right now? How I’m content, but not complacent? It’s because of things like this. I don’t feel like I need to run away from the stuff I used to do (or the person I used to be) anymore. I feel like I spent the first thirty years of my life building this complicated foundation, and now I’m living in a wonderful house atop it.
I’m off to prepare my presentation for ApacheCon on Monday in Las Vegas. Have a great weekend, everyone.