Just a Geek (27 page)

I mean, it's great publicity for the website, and for you. You will have an ability to connect with the fans again—but this time it'll be a little different, because you're probably going to see more people you know you from the site—and Malin knows that."

Mixed in with all of this, I got an e-mail from a really nice woman who organized fans to share their outrage about this.

PLEASE do go, otherwise IMO Creation will win, as they can say you turned THEM down after they met your (original) terms or something like that. Then promote the hell out of the convention on your website. Perhaps if Creation and the others see how powerful you and your website is, they just MIGHT sit up and take notice and I'm not just talking about conventions here, but perhaps it might help you in other ways (as yet unseen) as well
.

I'm calling for a campaign here to do right by you . . . 'cause I think it stinks. NO one messes with the Wil Wheaton, or they'll find that they have the "Posse" as you call us, to contend with and I suspect we are much MORE powerful together, than Creation realizes
.

I'm doing this for you, cause I think you are a neat guy . . . but also mostly because, remember, I've been a Trekkie longer than you've been around (before you were born) and this is now really got me STEAMED how on their High Horse that Creation has gotten of late."

So. I think long and hard about these things and still I feel heavily conflicted.

I revisit those pros and cons and think to myself:

I'd love to have a chance to read some of my stuff for an audience who would really "get" it.

I'd love to go in front of fans who, for the first time ever,
want to like me
.

But that revolving door is spinning and I don't know how I can face the people who said "Good for you! Leave
Star Trek
behind you forever!"

Well, right now, the absolute truth is, as my friend said:

"If you don't do it because you have to Turn Your Back On
Trek,
well, then you're not really turning your back on Trek—you're still letting the
Trek
thing dictate what you do . . . you shouldn't look at not turning your back on
Trek
and finding your own voice as being mutually exclusive."

Well, I'm going to wrestle with that last one for a while, I think and WWdN readers can expect more angst in the months to come. Sorry, it's just part of the process. There are hundreds of great weblogs to read and lots of pretty trees to look at outside if you'd rather not read that stuff here.

Anyway, this is way too long already, so I think it's time to get back to the point:

Adam and I talk.

It is a good, long, honest, respectful talk.

We clear the air.

He tells me that his profit margin on the Vegas show was not several million dollars. He tells me that it was very, very slim, relative to his investment, which was nearly half a million dollars. I don't know if this is true or not, but it's not the most productive thing in the world to argue about it, so I don't.

He tells me that he didn't want me at the Grand Slam on stage because he wanted to hold off until the 15th show. He thought it would be cooler if he waited to have me come on then.

He tells me that he had no idea about my website or about how the fans felt about me now.

He asks me if I'd reconsider.

I reconsider. I replay all those e-mails in my head, I balance the pros and cons and I say to him,

"Adam. I am really conflicted about this. I feel like each time I do a
Star Trek
event, it's . . . well, it's not necessarily a step backward, but it certainly isn't a step forward, but I feel like I should listen to the voice of the fans. We should all listen to the voice of the fans, because that voice has been increasingly silenced over the last decade.

"I love to perform and I would like to give something back to the fans. I would love to attend the event and be part of the celebration, but I'd also like to share some of my writing with the fans. Would you be able to put me in an evening spot, so I can read some things that I've written?"

"Is it funny?" he asks me.

"It's funny, it's sad, it's bittersweet . . . it's really a reflection of the person I am and people seem to respond to it."

"Can I book your comedy group for Grand Slam in 2003?"

"Yes. I'd love to bring my guys out. We love to perform."

We talk about fees and agree on a very fair fee, which is right on par with the rest of the actors.

I will do a question-and-answer session at the convention and I will bring selections of my writing and read them for the audience during an evening program.

I ask him for one more thing. I tell him that I have more in common with the fans now than I do with the actors and I keep hearing how the fans are getting the in-person-autograph shaft these days.

I want him to put my autograph table in an area where I can sit for a few hours, so all the fans can get their stuff signed, so I can talk with people who are so inclined.

He tells me that he'd really like that. Many actors just won't do that and he thinks it would be great.

I feel very good about this conversation and I feel very excited to be part of this celebration.

Resolution? It's a long ways off. That's why they call it "angst."

But there is something wonderful buried in all of this:

I doubt I would have gotten this phone call if there hadn't been such a loud and immediate response from the fans.

You spoke up on my—you spoke up on
our
behalf and your voice was heard.

Think about that for a moment.

Your voice was heard. You made a difference. Creation is the 800-pound gorilla of conventions. They don't have to listen to anyone.

But they listened to you. They listened to us.

That, my friends, is huge. Everyone who is reading this gets to own part of that.

I strongly suggest that you take a moment and phone, write, fax, or e-mail Adam or Gary or whoever at Creation and thank them for hearing your voices.

And if you come to the 15th show, please, please, please seek me out and introduce yourself. I'd like to know you.

I went to the convention and it was wonderful. I spent three fun days, talking with Trekkies and WWdN fans alike. I met people who had never been to a
Star Trek
convention before and had specifically come out to meet me after reading my website.

When I took the stage for my talk, I said, "I was almost not here today. Because of you, I am. Thank you." There was thunderous applause. I have always had more in common with the fans than the franchise, and I felt like getting me on that stage was a victory for us all.

I had long and joyous conversations with every cast member who was there. Backstage, Patrick Stewart embraced me, as he always does, and lamented that we don't see each other very often. I told John Logan (the writer of
Nemesis
) that I was focusing on being a writer. He congratulated me and said, "Writing is a noble and respectable profession. It's a very adult job. I'm proud of you!"

Brent Spiner took me aside and told me how sorry he was that I'd been cut from the movie. He told me that he'd fought it as best as he could. I believed him. I told him what I wrote in my weblog, and he was surprised and happy that Rick called me himself. He told me how upset all the cast members were that I was cut, and he asked me if I'd be at the screening. I told him that I would.
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^]
He said, "You know, Wil, you should still be involved in all the press events."

He got this impish glint in his eye—the same glint that I lived for when I was sitting next to him on the bridge, even though I knew it was going to end up getting me in trouble when he made me crack up—and said, "I think you should sit there, answer as many questions as you can, even if you don't know the answers. I'll see you in Europe. It'll be fun."

Before I could play the "yes, and..." improv game with him, he was whisked away to go on stage, but not before he said, "Hey, you've got my number, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Use it when you need it, man. It's great to see you."

When Brent left I sat next to Gates McFadden, who played my mother on
TNG
. We laughed about how we were spending more time backstage at this convention than we spent on camera together in five years. She told me that I had become quite a handsome man.

I was an adult, among peers. I would never be The Kid again.

I had long talks with Gary Berman and Adam Malin, who own Creation. I learned about their history as sci-fi and horror fans. I got the distinct impression from Gary, who is often described (perhaps unfairly) as the "bad cop" of the two, that he was saddened by the impression across fandom that Creation Entertainment is only doing these shows to get rich. He pointed out several times, in many different ways, that he and Adam had been doing conventions since they were teenagers, and that they will always be fans in their hearts.

They both made me feel welcome, and embraced me as part of the family. I thanked them for having me, and told them that it is because of guys like them, the convention promoters, that I can maintain a connection to some of the happiest days of my life. On the last day of the convention, Adam took the stage and asked the assembled fans to indicate, by their applause, who they thought was the highlight of the convention. When he said my name, they went nuts. They screamed, they whistled, they stood on their chairs and pounded their feet. I was stunned and humbled. When Adam asked me if I'd witnessed that, I told him I had, and that it surprised me. He smiled, and told me that it had surprised him, too.

The convention was celebrating 15 years of
Star Trek: The Next Generation
, but what
I
was really celebrating was my return to the family—as an adult, no longer burdened by the stupid and arrogant things I'd done as a child.

I read selections from
Dancing Barefoot
and this book to a very appreciative audience who gave me a standing ovation when I finished. When I got home, I wrote, "I am really excited, guys. For the first time in ages I look forward to each day and I feel like I'm finally doing something, which really makes me happy."

I finally was.

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15
^]
EarnestBorg9 is the name of our sci-fi improv and sketch comedy group. We were originally called "Mind Meld," but we changed this after WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER and Leonard Nimoy released a DVD with the same name.

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16
^]
Sadly, I wasn't invited to the cast and crew screening of the film. Though I was assured it was an oversight, I'm pretty sure it was yet another Code Red from The Powers That Be.

EPILOGUE: Hooters 2: Electric Boogaloo

A FEW WEEKS BEFORE THIS BOOK
went to press, I met my best friend Darin for lunch in Old Town. He wanted to celebrate the impending arrival of his daughter, and I wanted to celebrate finishing this book and
Dancing Barefoot's
success.

We met at the usual place, ahead of the lunchtime rush, so we could sit wherever we liked. We stood in the doorway, and Steve Miller blared above our heads that not only was he a joker, but he was a smoker
and
a midnight toker. He's a busy guy, that Steve Miller. We looked around, and chose the section with the hottest waitress in the joint.

As we took our seats, she came over to our table: a classically beautiful girl in her early 20s. Long, jet black hair, flawless skin, long legs. Hooters. Her name tag said "Jessica."

She sat on my lap and flirted with us as she took our order, all smiles and giggles. We ordered chili fries and anticipated a spirited game of "pull my finger" later on.

She stood up and left to put in our order. After a few steps, she stopped and turned around. She looked right at me and said, "You're Wil Wheaton, aren't you?"

"Oh for fuck's sake,"
I thought to myself.
"This can
not
be happening to me again."

My throat went dry. My face flushed and my pulse quickened. "Yeah," I croaked, bracing myself.

She screwed up her courage and slowly walked back to our table. She leaned close to me and rested her hand on my thigh, her full, pouting lips just inches from mine. A simple silver chain encircled her neck, her hazel eyes were ringed with gold, and she smelled like Springtime. Her ample cleavage seductively longed to bust out from beneath her thin cotton T-shirt as she said, breathlessly, "I love your website. You're a great writer."

Appendix A. The WWdN FAQ

THE FAQ IS BROKEN DOWN
into the following categories:

• Star Trek
  

• Stand By Me
  

• Other Movies and Television
  

• The Site
  

• Other Questions
  

STAR TREK

Why'd you quit?

The following is reprinted from the best interview
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17
^]
I ever did:

Here's the absolute truth why I left
Star Trek
. I left
Star Trek
because it was seriously interfering with my career in feature films. I was in a situation where I was constantly having to pass on really good movie roles because I was on the series. I had a film career before
Star Trek
. People knew me before
Star Trek
. As a matter of fact, at Comic Con, a lot of people came up to me and said, "I started watching
Star Trek
because you were on it and I was fan of yours from
Stand By Me
. I stopped watching it after you left." I had a lot of people say that to me.