Gamers vs. COVID-19

My upcoming eSports competition show, Gamemaster, has been delayed like everything else, but the people involved wanted to use the resources they had already mustered for production to do some good at a moment in time when it’s so desperately needed.

So we’re organizing to 3D print what we can for our frontline healthcare workers!

“As the spread of COVID-19 continues to impact us all, GAMEMASTER takes solace in friends, family and the indomitable spirit of our players, cast, crew and brand partners. When Reagan Stewart, web developer and an overall tech guru for GAMEMASTER, brought the idea of our team helping to make, distribute and organize PPE for medical professionals as they experience shortages, we immediately saw a way that we could help. Thanks to our amazing and generous brand partners, we have not only been able to set up a 3D print operation in Atlanta, but, we have also developed a network for healthcare providers and first responders across the country to connect with makers in their community to get the specific PPE that they need, quickly and without cost. Thank you all!:”

I’m so proud, and so honored, to be part of this show. I’m so excited to share our first effort to join the fight against COVID-19. If you’d like to get into the fight with us, and add your resources to ours, we have a sign-up page, here.

Maroon, yellow, blue, gold and gray

Everyone who lives with mental illness experiences it in our own way. For me, my Depression and Anxiety sort of hang out just beyond the scope of my peripheral vision, occasionally telling me they are there by casting a shadow over my life. Most of the time, it’s just that shadow, but other times, they team up and they just totally block out the Sun, and all the light in my life.

That’s how the last week or ten days have been, triggered by this complex PTSD episode that knocked me down really hard, and then stood on my chest wearing golf spikes. It was not awesome.

This thing that happened to me was brand new. As an adult, I hadn’t really, truly, fully experienced the totality of the pain, fear, sadness, and helplessness I felt as a child. I’d sort of pushed all that to the side, in the name of empowerment, and charged ahead with my life, to the best of my ability. What I didn’t know until this last week is that the stuff I pushed to the side was just sort of waiting for me to be ready to confront and deal with it, when it blocked out the Sun and scorched the Earth around me.

But I did the work that I know how to do. I allowed myself to feel all the things I needed to feel. I had long conversations with my sister, who has been so supportive and understanding through all of this. I had long conversations with myself, and I talked to the little boy I was. It felt kind of silly and a little “woo woo” to do that, but he needed to know that I love him, I see him, I can’t protect him from these terrible people, but I’m going to do the best I can to hold his hand and help him through everything, even if it’s just in my memories. He is not alone now, even though he felt so very alone, then.

And it really helped. It really helped to acknowledge my pain and my recovery. It helped to remind myself that healing is a journey, and some parts of the path are more difficult than others.

My sister gave me some really good advice, my Godmother and my cousin reminded me that I am and always have been loved by them, even when I wasn’t feeling unconditional love and approval from my parents. My wife held me while I cried, then she held me while I ugly cried, then she held me while I sobbed uncontrollably.

My pain and my trauma is real, and it is lasting, but I know that I’m going to heal it all, eventually, because I am surrounded by love and support.

Some housekeeping, after the jump:

Continue reading… →

So I’m Finally watching Deep Space Nine for the First Time

When Deep Space Nine was new, I was still working on Next Generation. I recall feeling this strong sense of sibling rivalry (entirely my issue, never created or encouraged by anyone else) that got in between me and my ability to watch the show, and give it the chance it deserved. Also, by 1993, I was 21 and feeling like it was time for me to get a break away from Trek and its emotional baggage. Over the years, I’ve wondered what, exactly, I missed, but I never made it a priority to find out.

With the passing my my friend, Aron, last week, I thought that I could remember and honor him by finally watching the series he gave so many years of his life and career to.

I know that DS9 is uneven, especially in its early seasons, just like we were, and I didn’t want to invest time into whatever their version of Angel One or Justice was (or, the gods help us all, Shades of Grey). Luckily for me, my friend, Max Temkin, has written a guide to watching the best of TNG in like 40 hours, and a similar guide to watching DS9 in like 80 hours (because, Max says, there are just too many good episodes of DS9 out there to get it down to 40).

So I dug up his guide, and read it. I took note of the context he thinks we should have before we start watching the show, including its time of production, its relationship to TNG, and some details about the characters that are useful to know before we really meet them.

Max tells us, “Deep Space Nine … is chock full of full, flawed characters with world views more diverse than their forehead prostheses.”

After we have that information and perspective, he picks out the episodes he feels are the best from each season, not just in terms of enjoyment (there are plenty of entertaining episodes of TOS that don’t exactly advance the character arcs, such as they were in 1966, like Arena, for instance) but as they relate to the things he feels makes DS9 the best of all the Star Treks: the Cardassians and their relationship to Bajor and the Federation, the Dominion, the character arcs that made Kira and Sisko so memorable and beloved by fans for thirty years.

I know it makes for better drama and a more interesting story if I say I was skeptical going into it, but I wasn’t. I was purely excited. I trust Max, and I trust the legions of DS9 fans who love it for what I’ve come to know this week are extremely good reasons.

Max’s guide tells us to watch the following episodes from S01: The first four, including the two-part pilot, which has the distinction of being the only truly good Trek pilot in the history of the series. Episodes 11, 13, 19, and 20.

I binged the first four on Netflix. This is significant because I *hate* binging shows. I prefer to let shows sit for at least a day between episodes, so I can digest and reflect upon what I watched. I believe that when we binge shows, we trade enjoying a meal for not being hungry any more … and yet. I loved the characters so much, I loved the look of the show, the tone of the show, and the stories they told in those four hours so much, I couldn’t stop watching.

Last night, I watched Episode 11, The Nagus. It’s the introduction of a character which could have just been broad and silly comic relief, but which I understand becomes a beloved part of the show. I’ve never been a big Ferengi fan; if you’ve read Memories of the Future you know why: they were so comical and broad in TNG, all I got out of them was buffoonish misogyny. There’s still some of that in the writing (it’s still the first season, and the writers haven’t let Quark and Rom and Nog grow into who they will become), but the actors pull the most interesting and complex nuances out of the scripts, to make their characters so compelling, I wanted to dive head first into the rest of the series, just to get to know them.

I told Anne that I was watching Deep Space Nine for the first time, which surprised her. I love Star Trek so much, she thought I would have watched it already. I told her how I had all this emotional baggage that got in between me and watching the show, but the therapeutic, emotional work I’ve done the past year has let me heal a lot of stuff, and stop carrying around that emotional baggage. So watching Deep Space Nine is extra special to me, because it lets me watch Star Trek, and it lets me LOVE Star Trek, in a way that I hadn’t been able to for essentially my entire adult life.

I love TNG, and I love my cast. They are my real family, and I will cherish the memories I have from working with them. And that means I can’t just watch TNG the way a fan does, without any complicated memories related to, you know, MAKING the show.

But I can watch Deep Space Nine and just see characters. Yeah, I know some of the actors a little bit, but for some reason, I can compartmentalize this time around. And that’s a wonderful revelation and a wonderful gift, for me.

Aron’s performance is sensational, by the way. But if you watched DS9, you already know that.

it all started with a big bang

About ten years ago, I was stuck, professionally, and doing my best not to freak out every day about where the next mortgage payment would come from. I was doing moderately well as a writer, but I wasn’t earning enough to sustain myself and my family, and my acting career was … well, if it were a patient in a coma, we would have been having serious discussions about pulling the plug to end the suffering.

Everything changed when Bill Prady called me, and pitched me on playing a version of myself on his series, The Big Bang Theory. Believe it or not, I didn’t instantly say yes. I felt like playing myself meant I would only get to do one episode, nobody would care, and the industry wouldn’t respect me for it because I wasn’t playing a role. So I called my friend John Rogers and asked him what I should do.

“YOU SAY YES YOU DUMMY WHY ARE YOU EVEN CONSIDERING NOT DOING THIS?!” He hollered at me, throwing much-needed cold water on the doubts and fears I had unnecessarily created in my fucked up head.

So I thanked John for his advice and guidance, called Bill back, and accepted the gig. A few days later, Bill called me back and carefully told me that the character had changed. Now, the version of Wil Wheaton I would be playing was, and I quote, “Delightfully evil.”

Now I said YES without hesitation. I was playing a character, just like I wanted to, but I was the only person in the world who could play him, because he was literally a version of me.

That week on the set was the best week of my life. I was already a huge fan of the show, but by the time I was wrapped, I was an even bigger fan of the cast and crew. Everyone treated me with kindness and respect. They made me feel so welcome, like I deserved to be there, like I was a valued member of the show. One of the producers told me “I hope you had a good time here, because we are definitely bringing you back for more episodes.”

That was awesome, but I’ve worked in film and television long enough to know that people say things like that all the time, and nothing ever comes of it.

Only this time, it did! A little while later, they brought me back for another episode, and then another and another and then it was ten years later and I’ve done like seventeen episodes. Along the way, I became good friends with the entire cast and most of the writers and producers. Along the way, they welcomed me into their family, and made me feel like I was as important to the production as anyone else who works there. They accepted me and always made me feel like I deserved to be there, like I was valued, like I was not someone who had done under twenty episodes, but who had been there for every moment of every day. It has been a remarkable experience, and the greatest joy of my professional life. Personally, it ranks second, behind my marriage and partnership with the best person on the planet, Anne Wheaton.

Last night, I took what is probably my final curtain call in front of an audience at Stage 25. There are only 9 episodes left, and the math of it makes it unlikely there will be another space in any of the stories they have left for my version of Wil Wheaton.

And while that breaks my heart, it’s really okay. Things end, and I’m always grateful to be sad at the end of something, because it means I am grateful that it happened.

When I was a kid on Star Trek, I never had the emotional maturity to appreciate it. I loved my cast mates, and we were a family, but I was just too young and immature to fully appreciate what we had, until it was gone. For years, when I thought about TNG and my space family, I felt shame and regret. But I finally got to publicly express my love and gratitude to them at a big TNG reunion panel in Calgary. I got a second chance that I never thought I would get, and I made the most of it. Since then, I can look back on TNG with fondness and pride, instead of sadness and regret.

I wasn’t going to let 25 years go by before I got to share my gratitude with the cast and crew of Big Bang Theory, so yesterday during a break in camera blocking, I stood in the middle of the set, and I took a minute to tell them all how grateful I am for the years of love and kindness they have all given me. I thanked them for making me feel like I’m part of their family, and for being my friends. I did my best not to cry, and I mostly succeeded.

We went back to work, and over the next hour or so, pretty much everyone from the cast and crew came up to me and made sure I knew that I didn’t just feel like part of their family, I was part of their family. Every single person who talked to me told me they will miss me as much as I will miss them.

Over the course of the day and night (we tape in the evening after rehearsing and camera blocking all day), I was able to share meaningful and joyful (and tearful) moments with everyone in the cast, and most of the producers and crew. I was able to directly express my gratitude to all of the people who have been such an important and wonderful part of my life since we shot my first episode, way back in 2008.

I’m so sad that the show is ending. I’m so sad that, in just a few short weeks, they’ll start tearing down the sets and preparing Stage 25 for whoever is going to move into after we leave.

But I am so grateful that I’ve had the privilege and honor to spend nearly a quarter of my life working with and becoming friends with these amazing humans.

The episode we shot last night will probably air in 3 to 4 weeks, and it’s likely to be the last time we see Formerly Evil Wil Wheaton in his natural habitat, but as you probably saw from the pictures I posted from the set, I could not have asked for a better and more wonderful way to bring this incredible chapter in my life to a close.

My life and career are in a much better place now than they were ten years ago. I feel happier (recent kick in the face by my damn Depression notwithstanding) and I feel better about my career choices and opportunities than I have in a long, long time. Being part of this show, and forming friendships with my cow-orkers there has been a very big part of that.

Thank you, Bill Prady and Chuck Lorre, for giving me the opportunity to be part of your creation. Thank you, Steve Molaro and Steve Holland, and all the writers, for always giving me the funniest stuff to perform, and letting me play a version of myself who is so much cooler than I am. Thank you, Mark Cendrowski, for always directing me toward my best possible work, and for making me a better actor. Thank you, Anthony Rich, and everyone on the crew, for creating such an amazing and joyful and supportive working environment.

And thank you most of all to the cast for allowing me to be part of the family. I don’t know what’s next for any of us (I hope you all take a deserved vacation) but I want you all to know that I love you, and being part of your stories has been a gift, an honor, and something I will cherish for the rest of my life.

this is brilliant

When we worked on Next Generation, Brent Spiner and I would sit at our consoles on the bridge, and make up lyrics to our show’s theme song. I vaguely recall coming up with some pretty funny and clever stuff, but nothing that held together as perfectly as this, from the weirdos over at meh.com: