Still Just a Geek, page 37
This playlist* is really great. Now I’m listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees’ version of Iggy Pop’s “The Passenger.”
Both of my kids are grown, married, and living too far away. Ryan’s in graduate school. Nolan’s still figuring it all out—which is perfectly okay when you’re his age, by the way. We didn’t see each other for a year, because of the pandemic of 2020–2021 (BOY, do I hope it ended in 2021), but we’re as close as ever, thanks to real technology I’m pretty sure was, in part, inspired by imaginary technology I pretended to use before my kids were born. That is so cool and weird.
Anne retired from hairdressing (did I ever talk about her career as a hairdresser? She had a successful business and did hair for just over seventeen years, when injury pushed her into early retirement). Now, she’s a painter and a children’s book author. Her book, Piggy and Pug, is beloved by children everywhere and is available wherever books are sold. Ask your local bookstore or library; they can get it from their distributor.
Did you honestly expect, after everything we’ve been through together, that I wasn’t going to promote my wife’s book? No way. I know you’re into it. We’re cool.
I still write in my blog, but not every day. It’s still at wilwheaton.net. I post stuff on my Facebook and Instagram every day, though. I’m itswilwheaton in both places, where I realize we are all the product, but . . . pet pictures! And likes!
Oh man. Now it’s Big Black’s cover of Kraftwerk’s “The Model.” It’s hard to believe this same artificially intelligent DJ will eventually grow into Roko’s basilisk.
Okay. I’m going to wrap up for real, now.
I think the central message of Still Just a Geek is that we all get second chances, even if we have to create them for ourselves. We aren’t defined by a single thing, ever, no matter what that single thing is. We contain multitudes. Nobody gets to tell you what your dream is or is not. Whatever your dream is, you deserve to realize it.
That goes for me, too. When most kids were figuring out what their dreams were, I was forced to chase my mother’s dream for herself. I’m not going over all that again. We are at the end of the book; you get it.
But there is this huge part of Just a Geek where I’m investing so much time and energy into Proving to Everyone That Quitting Star Trek Wasn’t a Mistake, and I don’t think I ever said to myself, or to the public, that maybe I didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. It was totally okay to quit Star Trek. In fact, it wasn’t just okay. It was vital.
If I didn’t quit Star Trek (and remember, my quitting was a reaction to what I believed was deliberate sabotage of my acting career—you know, bullying), I never would have had an opportunity to find the dream I was denied as a child. I never would have grown up. I never would have confronted all of my childhood trauma, and I never would have grown into the husband and father I am today.
If I’d stayed there through the rest of the series and for all of the movies, I’d be rich. I’d live in a mansion. I’d have all those things that only money can get you. And that is all I would have. I’d be empty inside. I would be so sad and so unfulfilled. I would still be in a toxic relationship with my parents. I would never have found my authentic self or my authentic voice. And I would very likely resent Star Trek and everything about it. Can you imagine? Something I loved since I was a kid, something I was so lucky to be a part of, would likely be something I hated.
That just sounds so . . . terrible, doesn’t it? I said it forever ago, and I’ll say it again: I love my life. Parts of it are rough, sure, but on balance I love it. Being me is rad. I am so grateful for everything I have as a person and as a professional. And I was able to find my way to this life because I walked away from Star Trek when I did.
I had to do it so I could figure out who I was and what was important to me, and so I could become the best version of myself. As you read in Just a Geek, I questioned and doubted and second-guessed that decision all the time, and if I’m being honest, I still questioned it until I was in my early forties.
But I am so glad I did it. I did find myself. I did figure out who I am and what’s important to me. I found my own voice in so many ways, and now I use that voice to narrate audiobooks, perform in animation, normalize conversations about mental health, and support and comfort my fellow trauma survivors through my writing.
And check this out: by walking away from Star Trek (and then the entire entertainment industry) when I felt like it was something I had to do, I was able to gain perspective, establish some boundaries, and come back on my own terms when the time was right for Star Trek and for me. Instead of being trapped in the mirror universe that I described a minute ago, today I am the literal voice of Star Trek, as the host of The Ready Room, the host of Star Trek Day, and as a member of Legacy Star Trek (that’s what they call us! LOL) who can take my fellow Trekkies into the room where it happens. I may have been a teenager when I was making the series, but today I am a Starfleet veteran who was laying in coordinates years before some of the current cast members were born. From time to time I get to be a mentor to them. We share a unique experience, and that bonds us together in ways that only we can understand. It’s even more wonderful than you think it is. I hope it’s as meaningful to them as it is to me.
And I wouldn’t have any of it, if I’d walked a different path and was like, “Fuck Star Trek.” I know in my heart that’s where I was headed, and if I went there, I wouldn’t have the best job I’ve ever had, right now.
I worked really hard to get from where I was at the beginning of Just a Geek to where I am today. I made a ton of mistakes, did a ton of stuff I regret, but I learned from all of it. I am a whole person now. To borrow a phrase from the amazing Jenny Lawson: I am beautifully broken. I am a husband. I am a dad. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be a grandfather before too long.
I guess this is a long way of saying that it’s taken a long time and a lot of work, but I’m finally me. And if all that stuff hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be Anne’s husband or Ryan and Nolan’s dad. I certainly wouldn’t be a writer. I never would have created TableTop. I never would have become a whole person. I’d still be that little boy, carrying everything my mom put into my little hands, while I tried to convince a man who resented me that I was worthy of his love.
And I would be miserable, all the time, until I died.
That is heavy as fuck, I know, but it’s all true. So let me just repeat something from a page or so ago:
Nobody gets to tell you what your dream is or is not. Whatever your dream is, you deserve to realize it.
It hasn’t been easy at all, but I’m currently realizing one of my dreams, and I hope I never wake up.
We’ve spent a lot of time together. I want you to know I appreciate your choosing to stick around all the way to the end.
Be kind, be honest, be honorable. Always do your best and be gentle with yourself.
Wil Wheaton
Los Angeles, CA
June 8, 2021
Acknowledgments
Whenever I open a CD from one of my friends’ bands, I scan the acknowledgments, hoping to see my name stuck down there, near Zildjian, Fender, Patricia Ford, Brianna Banks, Jenna Jameson, and Sky Lopez. However, my name is never there. Sure, I supported them, went to their shows, and listened to their jam sessions. But there is only so much room for thanks, and including me would mean taking out someone else who deserved to be there.*
I mention this, because I really hope that more porn stars* will e-mail me so they can make it into the next book.* I also offer this as an apology to all the people who I love, and who love me, who won’t get thanked here. If I listed all of you, it would fill its own book. Having said that, there are a few people who were instrumental in seeing the book completed, and I would like to thank them now. Mom and Dad, Jeremy, and Amy. You have been with me my entire life. Without you, there are no memories, and no stories to tell.*
Anne, Ryan, and Nolan. You looked at my back for months while I wrote this, and endured my temper tantrums when I couldn’t get words to string together just the way I wanted them. You are my life.*
Gene Roddenberry. Thank you for letting me spend some time beneath the wing of the Great Bird of the Galaxy.
Mrs. Westerholm. In seventh grade, you told me that I was a great writer who would publish a book someday. Thank you for encouraging me. We need more teachers like you.
Mrs. Lee. In ninth grade, you told me that I was a terrible writer who would never amount to anything, because I was a stupid actor. Kiss my ass, baby.*
Marian Fife. You took me from tenth to twelfth grade in the “real” Starfleet Academy. I credit you with my relentless drive to be the best I can be.
Brett McLaughlin. You knew when to push, when to back off, and have an uncanny knack for picking out the stuff that sucks from the stuff that doesn’t suck.
Everyone at O’Reilly Media, but especially Sara, Kyle, Kathryn, Ellie, David, Mary, and, of course, Tim.
Loren Cox, Josh Sisk, and Ben Claassen. You guys encouraged me to build WIL WHEATON dot NET. Without your moral and technical support, the website would never have been more than an idea. The weblog that is the foundation of this book would not exist.
Chris Black and Hank Hedland. You’ve made such a difference in my career . . . if I ever get back on camera, it will be due in large part to your hard work and faithful counsel.
Travis Oates, M. D. Sweeney, Dan O’Connor, Tracy Burns, Susie Geiser, and Cynthia Szgeti. You all taught me how to trust my instincts and encouraged me to develop my comedic voice.
The cast of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Sunday Show. We found our funny together.
Sam Christensen. When I (and Hollywood) had no idea who I was, you helped me discover my essences. Without you, I’d never know that I’m passionate, uncompromising, wry, crackling, unfulfilled, honorable, and too smart for my own good.
Oingo Boingo and Cake provided the soundtrack for the first draft. Massive Attack, Portishead, Underworld, Blue Man Group, and Dirty Vegas provided the soundtrack for the first rewrite. U2, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, the Beatles, the Getup Kids, Saves the Day, and the Pixies provided the soundtrack for the final draft.*
John Kovolic. You are an amazing artist and creator, and I am so honored that you gave me drawings for this book. Just like Ben’s illustrations in Barefoot, you’ve added an entirely new and wonderful level of humor and warmth to my story.
The Monkeyboxers and the Früdø crew: jbay, Roughy, Spudnuts, Greeny, Colin, MrsVeteran, JSc, Bobby the Mat, and bluesman. BINGO, fuckers! Rest in peace, Colin.
Drew Curtis and all the TotalFarkers. Thanks for providing just the right amount of distraction when I was in the homestretch.*
Jen Frazier and all the GeekMonkeys at ThinkGeek.com.* Thanks for hooking me up with all sorts of cool geek gear for the cover shoot. I swear that Guinness just compiles better when I drink it from a pint glass labeled #include
Everyone who has read, linked to, and contributed comments to WWdN over the last three years. You all encouraged me to write a book. Well, here it is!
Cory Doctorow, Dan Perkins, and Rob Matsushita. Your advice and encouragement have made this book better and made me a better writer. Thank you.
Kathleen McGivney. I’m so glad we’re friends. Thanks for your encouragement during the “this sucks and nobody’s going to like it so let’s just get drunk” hours.*
Your One Eyed Cat has a Cult!*
I must also give very special thanks to my good friend Andrew Hackard.* Andrew took time off from his real job at Steve Jackson Games to edit the first draft of this book. Andrew’s red pen, knowledge of the rules of English grammar, and tireless support have made all the difference. Without Andrew’s devotion and care, this book wouldn’t have ever made it past the “hey, maybe I’ll write a book” stage.
Finally, Nunu and Aunt Val. Somehow, I think playing “The Gong Show” in the kitchen at Topanga when I was three had something to do with all of this. I miss you. I love you.*
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
Q: Why’d you quit?
A: The following is reprinted from the best interview 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.
After something like this had happened a lot of times, I finally had the last straw: I had been cast by Milos Forman to be in Valmont. I had gone through lots and lots of callbacks, I had met Milos personally a number of times, and he was really supportive of me and told me, “I want you in my movie.” I was going to go to Paris, I was going to be in this movie and stuff, and we were going to shoot it during the hiatus. The shooting schedule for Valmont would have carried me over about a week into the regular season schedule into Star Trek. I would have had to sit out the first episode of the year, right. That’s not a big deal, it’s not like I’m the fuckin’ captain, you know. At that point, I was the guy who pushed buttons and said, “Yes, sir!” So, I said to the people on Star Trek, “I need to be written out of this particular episode, because I’m going to do this movie and my film career’s going to take off.” This is after Gene Roddenberry had died. Had Gene been alive, it would have been no problem at all, because Gene was that kind of guy. Gene would have said, “Great! Go ahead, you do what you need to do,” because he was that kind of person. After Gene died, a very different type of person took over, and he said, “We can’t write you out because the first episode of the season is all about you. It focuses entirely on your character and it’s your story . . .” I said, “Well, this really sucks, but I’m under contract to you guys and if that’s your call and if that’s what you say I have to do, I have to do.” I had to pass on the movie.*
A couple of days before the season was ready to premiere, they wrote me out of the episode entirely. They were sending me a message. The message was, “We own you. Don’t you ever try to do anything without us.” That was the last straw for me. I called my agents and said, “They don’t own me. It’s time for me to leave this show. It’s time for me to be gone.” That’s what really pushed me over the edge. It’s not worth it anymore. That’s why I left.
Q: But Gene was alive then. You’re a liar!
A: Many people have pointed this fact out to me, and you’re right. Gene was alive. But he was in poor health, and wasn’t heavily involved in the production of the show at that time. That’s why I thought that he had already died when I did that interview. Hey, I make mistakes. Too bad I don’t have FOX News to help me cover them up.
Q: Will you be in any of the movies?
A: Well, I worked for two days on Star Trek X (Star Trek OSX.1, if you’re a Mac user), but my scene was cut. Maybe it will be on the DVD.*
Q: I bought the DVD, and you’re not on it! You’re not even in the full-screen version!
A: Well what the hell are you doing buying a full-screen version of anything?
I am quite surprised that they didn’t include my scene on the DVD,* to be quite honest, and I have no idea why they didn’t. It certainly lends some weight to the theory that TPTB really have it out for me, doesn’t it?
Q: What is your favorite episode?
A: My favorite episode to watch is “The Inner Light.” Picard gets zapped by a beam of alien light. Although he’s unconscious only for a few minutes on the Enterprise, he lives out an entire life on another planet.*
My favorite episode that I worked on is “The First Duty,” because it was one of the few times I got to work with actors my own age. Robbie McNeill, who was on Voyager, played opposite me in that episode, and we had hella fun. Hella hella hella. Robbie told me that he had been on a soap, and the producers had created this character arc for him where he was to work with this other actor most of the time. Apparently, they had so much fun and made each other laugh so much that the producers rewrote the entire character arc to make sure they’d never be in any scenes together for the rest of the series. It’s because I liked Robbie so much that I can’t crack on Voyager too hard, even though it sucks.*
Q: Did it bother you that the fans didn’t like Wesley?
A: Yes, at the time, it really, really did. Imagine being a teenager, trying to handle all the things a teenager has to deal with. Now multiply that times being on a HUGE TV show and having all these people hate you. It was tough.
Although, I recently realized something. At the time, I kept saying to people, “It’s a TV show! Don’t take it so seriously! It’s just a character!” But at the same time, I really was taking it seriously, as well as personally. And it hurt. But I didn’t handle myself with much grace, which I think echoes Wesley’s situation: He had the intellectual capacity to be with these adults, but not the emotional capacity. It was the same for me, in real life. I’ve written some things about it in my weblog,* and I write extensively about it in my forthcoming [this] book, Just a Geek.*
