Welcome to the shiny new Do You Want Kids With That? department,* where I’ll track and discuss progress on my next book, which is surprisingly close to completion.
A famous author, (I think it was Harlan Ellison or James Ellroy,) once said something like, “Don’t just write what you know. Write what you love, and wish there was more of in the world.” Well, I love short stories I can relate to, like the ones I hear on This American Life, and I wish there were stories about the little and not-so-little victories we stepparents have, that help to balance out the tough stuff that comes with the territory. As a bonus, this also happens to be what I know.
So Do You Want Kids With That? is a collection of stories about being a stepparent, with a focus on those moments (with the kids and with my wife) that make the whole thing worthwhile. It’s not an advice or HOWTO book (or a Star Trek book, or a celebrity bio), but other stepparents may find a kindred spirit between the covers, and all you WWdN readers who have wanted more family stories will probably like it, too. (There’s only one poker story in the whole thing 😉
It is similar to Dancing Barefoot in a couple regards: it’s about the same length, and it’s a collection of material that originally appeard on my website. I took the entries that I liked the most, cleared out the blogcruft, reflected upon and rewrote most of them, and divided them into different thematic sections (one of them is tentatively titled “My Stepgeeks,” which I just love). My wife, Anne, has agreed to write down her thoughts and reflections on the entries, and I may even be able to get some commentary from Ryan and Nolan, which would be way cool. Do You Want Kids With That? will be released by Monolith Press later this year (but much, much sooner than you think.)
*I know that the category links don’t work. It’s on my list of things to fix.

Last night’s season premiere of Family Guy was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen on television. The Spanish Quagmire, spitting milk on Meg, spitting milk on Meg (again), Brian walking in a little circle outside Lois and Peter’s bedroom, Brian and Peter doing the gameshow bit . . . uhm . . . what else . . . ?
Oh yeah, and seeing Wesley freaking Crusher!! I screamed so loud, it knocked out the power in Los Angeles today. (Sorry about that, Los Angeles. If it makes you feel any better, I had to sit at the intersection of Fletcher and Griffith Park — right by Astro Burger — for almost twenty minutes. And I had to pee.)
The thing that’s awesome, (and unintentional, I’m sure) is that the image here is exactly what it was like when I worked on TNG back in the day: we’re all laughing, having a great time, and Michael Dorn hates his Klingon forehead.
(Enormous thanks to WWdN Reader Aaron D. who sent me the screen cap. And yes, I know the ops and conn consoles are reversed. Don’t point that out, or everyone will know you’re a geek.)

Tonight, we have our very first Hurricane Katrina Relief tournament at PokerStars. It’s a $5.00 buy-in, with $4.99 going to the American Red Cross, and one cent going to the prize pool.
But you’re not really playing for the $1.70 or whatever is in there; you’re playing because PokerStars is matching all the entries, dollar-for-dollar, so your $5.00 is actually worth $10.00 (I’m pretty sure they’re rounding up.) You’re also playing for some awesome prizes: If you bust me, you’ll get an autographed book. If you make the final table, you’ll also get an autographed book. Other members of Team PokerStars, like Greg Raymer, Isabelle Mercier, Evlyn Ng, Chris Moneymaker, and Tom McEvoy are also giving up various prizes, and so is Lee Jones. I don’t have those details, but I’m sure Otis will.
Update! Here are the prizes for tonight:

• 1-3: autographed Chris Moneymaker biography
• 4-5: autographed Tom McEvoy books
• 6-9: autographed Evelyn Ng posters

So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m totally playing for 6th place. 😉
/Update!
If you’ve watched the news at all since Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast, you’ve mostly seen images of horror coming out of New Orleans. We having seen very much from the other affected areas, but I know for a fact that they need our help just as much as anywhere else. I have permission to reprint the following e-mail, from WWdN reader David G.:

Subject: Katrina: When No One Can Hear You Scream
Wil-
South Mississippi needs help. We may not have floods and looters and dramatic helicopter footage of the dying and dead, but we still need help. I am fortunate enough to live in an area (Hattiesburg, MS) has is slowly getting to its feet through the unbelievably gracious assistance of total strangers from every state in the nation. Actually, the only place we haven’t gotten help from would be Washington, D.C. South Mississippi is a sparcely populated region, save for the gulf coast region. People are trapped in their homes, unable to leave because of the fallen trees. Some have no gas to drive fifteen miles to a “relief center”, which consists of a truck of water or ice or clothes (it’s never the same twice) in the back parking lot of a Baptist church. We don’t have the supplies or communication we need to get needed items to the people with the greatest need.
All night on the local television station, the anchors have built a living bulletin board; a phone call from someone who needs insulin, or a cancer patient running out of oxygen. Within minutes, another call comes in the word that help is on the way. But it’s not enough. We need coordination, we need expertise, we need proof that there is concern for our well-being in this, the poorest state in the nation. I don’t know why I’m writing you, but I know what we need. We in Mississippi need the WWdN army mobilized to create awareness that there exists a need for federal help, and that we will continue to cry for help until someone listens to us. I’m scared that until Brian Williams and Anderson Cooper and [shudder] Geraldo come to the Pine Belt, we will remain forgotten victims of Katrina. Please, spread the word that we need help in south Mississippi.
Thanks,
David G.

My friend Wendy is also down where Biloxi used to be, and she writes on her blog:

Let me also say two more quick things. A: if in anyway, you live close to a shelter or any place you can help-run do not walk, RUN to help–they need it. They still need it now, they will still need it in a month… and longer. If you can come, or donate anything–seriously nothing is too small. (a box of baby wipes marked Hurricane relief Biloxi, MS would be AWESOME.) and B. I am so so frightened and concerned for the people here-trying to live in unimaginable conditions-they will certainly get sick. There’s no way you can live in three feet of mud, without part of your roof, and no windows (obviously no power or water) and not get sick. When I upload pics of Helen, who hung from her house by her cable wire-and Wendy, 12, whose Aunt Niecey’s body is still missing- and the pool with the two bodies in it, at the historic birthplace of Barq’s root beer–I’m hoping you’ll get that if you’re still thinking, “I’d like to do something, but I feel so helpless… ” you’ll find a way to do anything to help.
That being said, A LOT *is* being done. Tears welled in my eyes today when I talked to Dane from Oregon who didn’t know a soul in Mississippi, but came here because like Garron from NC and Dennis from Texas, he “Got tired of watching it on TV and had to do something.” I told him, “I am so amazed you are here, this is my backyard… I had to come, but you came from so far…”
“There’s no place else I’d rather be,” he smiled at me.
When you hand someone ice and they act like you’ve handed them a million bucks.. the feeling is amazing. I am so glad I came, I don’t know how I will leave as scheduled tomorrow-but I know I will be back.

Late last night, I heard that there is over $100,000 going to the American Red Cross. It will help out people like David G., and support the efforts of Wendy and others.
I am extremely proud, and grateful to be part of this, and I just want to thank everyone who is playing, the whole crew at PokerStars for setting this up, and especially my awesome wife, Anne, who suggested that I ask PokerStars if they’d match whatever went into my “little charity tournament.” You guys are all rockstars.

I played in event number eight of the World Championship of Online Poker yesterday. It was a rough outing for me, thanks to a couple of suckouts early on that put me on the short-stack for pretty much the entire time I played.
I live blogged it at CardSquad, and wanted to share the final update with non-poker-reading WWdN readers:

3:45 PM – Ryan is doing his homework on the iMac across the room from me. I just took a look at all the players who are still in, and it looks like I outlasted everyone on Team PokerStars.
“Hey, I outlasted everyone on Team PokerStars,” I told him.
“See? You are a winner!” He said.
“Unless you’re thinking in terms of the actually-having-something-to-show-for-it kind of way,” I joked.
“Wil! When I played baseball, you always told me that no matter if I won or lost, I should always do my best and feel good about at least playing,” He said. “So why can’t you do that?”
“Holy shit. He was paying attention when I told him that stuff, and it made it into his sixteen year-old brains. I think I’m going to cry right now.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Thank you for reminding me. I do feel like a winner.”
But I didn’t tell him why.

As a parent, all I want to do in my life is help my stepkids make good decisions, and hopefully develop into kind, compassionate, caring adults. A big part of that is teaching them to care less about the results of something, so they can enjoy the experience of doing it. This is entirely at odds with the parenting they receive when they are not in my care. It feels so good to know that my influence, which so often feels invisible, shone through a little bit yesterday afternoon. Poker is fun and all, but I could have won the whole thing yesterday, and it wouldn’t have come close to how I felt when Ryan spoke those words to me — words I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t “lost.”

9/11 has become so politicized, sometimes it’s very easy to lose sight of the reality that a lot of people lost their friends and loved ones, four years ago today.
A visit to Dr. Pauly’s blog this morning put things back into perspective for me.
This is a moment of silence for them.