Wil Wheaton

Quick Fic!

April 9, 2013 By Amber West 11 Comments

When “Tell Me a Story” ended, I mentioned an idea to continue writing fiction here on the blog.

The idea was not an original one, but something I learned about while reading Wil Wheaton’s Sunken Treasure. Created by Kevin Lawver and Jason Garber, Ficlets was created in the AOL heyday where creative types would write short fiction, and then other lovely creatives could add on to it. They could write a prequel, a sequel, whatever they like.

A story could go on for forever, as different contributors add to either end of it.

One of the things that really appealed to me with the idea is that it’s a short piece of fiction – no more than 1024 words.

So, here on the blog, I’m running with that concept as a sort of hybrid writing prompt.

This week, you all contribute ideas for the start of the story. It can be as simple as a sentence, a place, or even a song. Whatever you give, I’ll write the “beginning” of the story.

Next week, when I post the resulting story, those of you who wish to participate can then use the story as a jumping off point for your part of the story. You can post yours on your blog and leave a link in the comments. Everyone involved will have a chance to read each others and see the unique turn the story takes.

Are you ready??

Even if you aren’t participating on your blog, feel free to suggestions for prompts or general comments below!

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: ficlets, fiction, Wil Wheaton, writing prompts

My Friday Night With Sir Patrick Stewart (…and then my head exploded)

March 19, 2013 By Amber West 17 Comments

It didn’t take very long for me to shoot off a message when I saw the update on Facebook.

Seems I have two tickets for the sold out “an evening with Patrick Stewart” next Friday at the Orlando Shakespeare theater that I can no longer use and need to sell. If you are interested please send me a private message.

The update was from a friend I made this past year, a friendship forged over our love of various nerdy things. I stared at the iPad on my lap, rubbing sleepy eyes as I was winding down for the evening, considering the offer.

I’m sure she has other friends, closer friends, that will be jumping on this in a heartbeat. I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up and bother.

But very quickly, a slightly louder voice in my head spoke up.

IT’S SIR PATRICK STEWART! WHY AREN’T YOU MESSAGING HER ALREADY?! MOVE, FINGERS, TYPE LIKE THE WIND!

Not wanting to get yelled at by myself any longer, I shot off a private message letting her know that I would be interested in purchasing tickets to an event I was ashamed to admit I didn’t know was happening.

After chatting back and forth, the arrangements were made.

I called my sister, told the hubs I would be having a Friday evening out, and made sure I laundered something suitable to wear (read: not sweatpants).

When Friday night rolled around and we arrived at the theater, my sister and I glanced around us. Quite a few people dressed up. I eavesdropped and discovered lots of theater types, students, and professors in the audience.

And, you know, my sister and I.

[Let it be known that we were not dressed like hobos, but we did both opt for jeans and a nice top – my sister went the extra mile with her blazer and fake specs.]

Top left, front row. That was us.

We made our way to the seats on our tickets. Front row, stage right.

We looked at the two large chairs sitting on the stage and knew immediately that we were going to end up staring at the back of Sir Patrick Stewart’s head all evening, so we were fairly at peace with that fact when it was time for him to make an entrance.

As we all stood, I took a mental snapshot (since, at Stewart’s request there were to be no photos or recordings) of the moment.

That mental snapshot would reveal that Sir Patrick was also wearing jeans. And cowboy boots.

(Boo-yah, lady in pantsuit who may have looked down her nose as we passed.)

The evening was moderated by Jim Helsinger*, the artistic director of the Orlando Shakespeare Theater. Mr. Helsinger would ask a question and then sit back and enjoy with the rest of us as every question led to a lengthy and captivating story about Patrick’s years in the theater.

I obviously can’t remember every bit, so I’ll run through the highlights that stood out in mind:

The moderator made reference to Patrick Stewart’s beautiful voice, and the fact that in reality, we’d all sit there and listen to him talk about anything. In response, before telling us how his accent came to be (and reciting a poem in the accent of his birthplace) he pointed out that the man with “the real voice” was there in the audience, his good friend Michael Dorn.
It was really cute how he plugged MegaCon during the event. There were definitely at least a few of us in the audience that were Shakespeare nerds as well as other fandom geeks, so he was sure to mention what was going on at the Con, and joked, “And I think Wil Wheaton is there?” which got a big cheer.
One rather amusing moment early on occurred when Jim was listing some of the actors who came up in the Royal Shakespeare Company with Sir Patrick. The list was already impressive when Patrick smiled (or so the back of his head seemed to) and said, “Can I add a few more?”
He told stories of how badly he wanted to play Othello when he was young and falling in love with Shakespeare (he was introduced to the bard’s work at 12, I believe), and how at the time in his youth, it wouldn’t have seem like such a far-fetched idea. But it wasn’t long before actors playing in “black-face” became taboo (rightfully, he added) so he thought, for a time, that he would never get to play him.He did find a way eventually – it took taking his idea to many, many companies and being turned down before he found a company willing to take on the idea. Persistence pays off, people!
For those of you who don’t know Patrick Stewart played Claudius twice on screen, once in 1980 besides Derek Jacobi’s Hamlet, and then again in 2009 with David Tennant as Hamlet. When he spoke of his take on the role, it was really beautifully expressed – I can’t attempt to convey it here. In particular, he broke down Claudius’ opening words, and how he felt that those few words defined the entire character for him.
There was a rather involved question about his approach to Shakespeare, a question that had my sister leaning over and saying, “Uh, I don’t know what those words mean.” [In fairness, my sister is smart, but this was the sort of question reserved for discussions with Lit Majors] Stewart’s answer could not have been more perfect in my opinion.**
“It’s all on the page.”

The beauty of Shakespeare is how much he could say in just a few words – and for those acting out those words, the words are enough.
Funniest story of the evening – the moderator asked what was the most memorable mistake he’s ever made on stage. Without hesitation, Stewart told a tale about a role he had on stage in a production of King Lear. He told of how, even though the actor playing Lear was great, he’d heard it many times, and it was warm, and they were doing two-a-days, and he was tired, so at some point during a show, he nodded off. On stage.
Suddenly, he jerked awake, and hearing only silence he assumed he’d missed his cue, which was a trumpet sounding off stage, so he leapt up and said his line, “What trumpet’s that?”Except there was no trumpet. In reality, the pause was in the middle of King Lear’s lines, which he had now stepped on. As the audience cracked up at the idea of Stewart making such an awful mistake, he leaned forward in his chair and said, “But I’m not finished yet!”

They had another performance that same day. And, despite his best efforts to remind himself not to make such a fool of himself again…well, I’m sure you can guess what happened.
At the end of the evening, after a brief audience Q&A (during which one woman used a ridiculous amount of time to impress everyone with where she’s been and drop the fact that she grew up with a famous Dad, and I’m fairly certain that most of us missed what her actual question was – even Stewart, who never gave brief answers, said one sentence and moved on) everyone stood to applaud.
Stewart stood, turning in each direction to acknowledge his audience, making a final turn to face my sister and I. In our little corner. He held his arms out to us and exclaimed, “Oh! You’ve been staring at the back of my head all evening!”

I’m fairly certain we both gave him the standard, “It’s okay, dude, ‘cause you’re Patrick Stewart, and even the back of your head is awesome, and I’m totally sorry I just called you dude, even if it was only in my head, SIR” shrug and smile. I like to think he understood.

It was a great evening, one that I don’t think I can truly begin to capture in a blog post, but I promised I would share what I could, and wanted to keep that promise while it is all fairly fresh in my mind.***

We walked out, beside Michael Dorn and Marina Sirtis****, and heaved a satisfied sigh as we headed for the parking lot. After dropping my sister at her place, I sang loudly with the radio, happy, knowing this would go down as one of the best Friday nights out for a long time.

(A very big thank you to the lovely friend that could not make it and offered up her tickets. I was already glad that we’ve become friends, but this really pushes it over the top.)

* It was very cool seeing Mr. Helsinger up there, as he starred in the very first live performance of Shakespeare I attended as a teen.

**My opinion about Shakespeare and acting comes from my experiences in the theater. You know, that time I played Juliet in a condensed version of Romeo and Juliet in my fifth grade gifted class.

***Keeping this fresh in my mind was no easy task after Saturday’s MegaCon events.

****I didn’t say anything to them since a) they were there to see Stewart, not be mobbed by fans and b) I overheard Marina saying – possibly joking, but somehow I don’t think so – that she felt vulnerable when Stewart pointed out that they were in the audience and was going to get him for it.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Claudius, Hamlet, jeans, Jim Helsinger, Marina Sirtis, Michael Dorn, Orlando Shakespeare Theater, Othello, pantsuits, patrick stewart, Royal Shakespeare Company, shakespeare, Star Trek:TNG, storyteller, Wil Wheaton

The One Where I Ramble About Anxiety, MegaCon, and Wil Wheaton

March 17, 2013 By Amber West 45 Comments

I don’t like crowds.

Scratch that. It makes it sound like I’m a hermit who hates the thought of being around other human beings. Let’s try that again.

Something inside of me doesn’t respond well to being in the midst of lots of bodies.

A little better?

It took me some time to realize this fact. After all, at various times in my life I’ve had to stand in front of crowds at conferences/conventions, educating and entertaining, or mingle and attempt to be charming and well-informed as I schmoozed with strangers.

I managed to do this without much drama. After it was all over, I’d generally be okay. Exhausted, passed out on my hotel bed, but not in any sort of dire straights.

As the years have passed, I’ve begun to realize that in crowded situations that didn’t require me to be “on”, I was far less okay. Sometimes, I found myself breathing funny, pressure pushing in on my chest, suddenly feeling like I wanted to cry and find a quiet place to hide.

A few times, I did just that.

This weekend, when my sister offered me her ticket to MegaCon, oddly enough, I hesitated. So much wonderful geekery would be waiting for me. And this year, being the 25th anniversary of Star Trek: TNG, I knew that there would be some extra awesomeness in store.

And still, I hesitated.

Friday night, I spent the evening listening to Sir Patrick Stewart discuss Shakespeare in a tiny theater where I sat mere feet away from him. It was awesome (I’ll share details in another post). Invigorated from an excellent evening out, I decided I would take my sister’s ticket and go enjoy the geekery.

In my car Saturday afternoon, sitting blocks from the convention center, I stared at the long line of traffic ahead of me waiting to park. I knew there would be a wait. I had commitments in the morning and couldn’t head over until noon, so I expected parking to take a little while.

Nerd traffic. In case you can’t see it, he voted for Roslin.

After about a half hour of sitting, I felt that pressure in my chest. I was by myself in the car. I had no one to distract me.

I started to think about how long I might be waiting in traffic. How I could still pull out of the line and go home.

No. I’d probably pull away and discover I was five minutes from being there. Keep going. This isn’t a big deal.

Another twenty minutes passed.

Maybe I should go home. If it takes this long to park, how long will it take me to get in the building? I left the kid home with the husband. What if he is having a bad afternoon and by time I park, I get a call that he needs me?

No. He’s fine. I’m fine. Shut up brain. Let’s keep waiting.

Twenty more minutes passed.

If it’s this hard to get in to park, how hard is it to get out? What if the little man has an emergency and I can’t get out of the parking lot? What happens if I’m trapped?

I tweeted about the need for a churro-wrapped valium. I’m pretty sure there were spelling errors in the tweet.

Another twenty minutes.

OHMYWORDIHAVEN’TEATENINFOREVERI’MGOINGTODIEINMYCAROUTSIDEOFMEGACONANDBEFOUNDBYA
STORMTROOPER!

After a few deep breaths and another ten minutes, I was directed into a parking garage, found a spot immediately on the first level, and hopped out of my car.

I walked up the road, looking at all the people wandering up ahead on International Drive. [For the non-locals, International Drive is ALWAYS busy. It's a touristy part of town, and the Convention Center had a Home and Garden Show going on at the same time as MegaCon. Lots o' people.]

I was relieved when Thor, the pedicab driver, made eye contact with me from afar, gave me a salute and rolled his chariot up beside me.

“To Megacon, m’lady?”

“Indeed.”

Feeling the much needed breeze and listening to Thor tell me how he had other plans for his future, but the pedicab was Odin’s idea, and you really don’t cross Dad when he wants you to continue the family business, did much to ease my already jumpy nerves. I happily paid the five dollar fee (and then some – when I’m jumpy, I’m an especially generous tipper) when he dropped me at the convention center entrance, wished him the best with family therapy, and headed inside to meet my brother-in-law, who had been kind enough to acquire my entry bracelet for me.

[nb. After reading this post, my sister pointed out that it would be awesome if Thor had dropped me off and yelled, "ANOTHER!" as he sped off to pick up a new fare. I would agree with her assessment.]

As I made my way in, I saw costumed people scattered here and there and thought, “Oh, this is fun!”

Then, as I made it closer to the actual MegaCon entrance, I saw the sea of people.

::gulp::

I walked in with my brother-in-law. We stepped on to the main floor, booths of merchandise everywhere.

And so very many people.

People EVERYWHERE!

My brother-in-law offered to stick with me, but knowing that my goal was to snap photos of people and maybe spot Wil Wheaton, while his probably had something to do with acquiring Batman-related goods, I gave him a nod and headed off on my own.

Very quickly I found myself surrounded.

I’ve made a huge mistake.

I walked away from the rows of merchandise out to an open area, where people stood in groups, sat in circles on the ground, or wandered about, checking out each other’s costumes.

I paused when I heard music and found myself watching a TARDIS and StormTrooper in a Hawaiian shirt doing the Harlem Shake. Characters from all sorts of fandoms stood around laughing, while some joined in.

I smiled, and snapped a few pics.

I wandered some more, pausing here and there to snap photos of random people. I found that while I was enjoying myself, my anxiety kept me from taking as many photos as I would have liked. I worried about being in the way. I worried about upsetting someone. And I definitely didn’t feel like asking someone if they could look my way.

In my wandering, I stumbled upon an area where I saw some very familiar names hanging above tables. Michael Dorn. Marina Sirtis. Levar Burton. Brent Spiner.

My unintentionally “illegal” photo of Brent Spiner.

People stood in organized queues. It wasn’t packed. There was room to breathe.

And when I took another look, I noticed the people. The people whose names hung above them.

I wandered and weaved a bit, snapping a few more photos. And then, there, at the end of various Star Trek: TNG stars was Wil Wheaton. I snapped a photo and then looked at the line. It wasn’t awful looking.

Standing off to the side, I watched him and Patrick Stewart, who was the next table down, talk to people as they signed things for them. I looked out at the enormous crowd beyond the autograph area. I looked back at all the space in the area I stood.

When I made the choice to go to MegaCon, it was in part because I knew Wil Wheaton would be there, and I thought it would be cool to see him.

And I had accomplished that. I even managed to snap a photo moments before someone from the MegaCon staff let me know that this was a no photo area. (Ooops. I was good and didn’t take any after that.)

But then I thought about all that time I spent waiting to park. And that crushing feeling in my chest that I’d been ignoring as I wandered about the convention center.

After all that, why not say hi?

In real life, I don’t get all melty-fangirly about celebrities. I joke about it, but honestly, I’m not like that. I wouldn’t clam up and get starstruck if I ran into someone I was a fan of, but I also don’t like the idea of disturbing them. (Case in point, the night before I was walking next to – seriously, I could have elbowed him with little effort – Michael Dorn and Marina Sirtis. But I didn’t say a word to them, since I figured they were trying to enjoy their evening supporting Sir Patrick Stewart, not be approached by a random stranger.)

Had I spotted Mr. Wheaton wandering the Con floor, I probably wouldn’t have said hi. I would have wanted to let him enjoy wandering like anyone else.

So, figuring this was the only way I would actually say hello, I stepped into the line.

The time spent in line was fun. I discussed my three year old’s love of Doctor Who with other Whovians. Then I entertained the couple in front of me. I don’t know what I said, but apparently, I went into “on” mode, as there was much laughing the whole time we waited.

When it was finally my turn, I felt a bit silly, not having something with me to sign.* How would that have worked?

Can you sign the Star Trek: TNG theme song, one of the few things that kept my little one occupied as a very active toddler? No? Can you sign my iPad, where I’ve read all of your books? Rats. That doesn’t work. Can you sign my computer screen, where I’ve read your blog about your INFP-ness and your writing and numerous other things that make me stop and yell, “UGH, stop being in my brain!”? Yeah. Not so much.

I handed him one of the photographs provided at the table, a picture of him in a fez with a fake mustache.

He gave me a big smile. “Who is this for?”

“Me.” I paused, realizing that wasn’t entirely helpful. “I’m Amber.”

As he signed, I took a breath, and I’m not sure how it came out, but I told him, probably in an awkward run-on sentence, that he was nice enough to cheer me up on a comment on his blog recently, and I really just wanted to say thank you in person.

Instead of nodding politely and sending me on my way, he asked, “Oh? What were we talking about?”

So, I rambled some more, something about how he did a super great post on failure, and I was all “sad writer is sad” about a nasty review, and he was super kind about it and I probably used the word “super” an unacceptable number of times.

“Oh, yes, I remember that.”

And then I blurted once more. “And then you said you downloaded my book. And I died. The End.”**

That’s when his eyes widened, and rather loudly he responded, “OH! I HAVE YOU ON MY KINDLE!”

To which I’m fairly certain I yelled back, “I KNOW!”

[I am all class, ladies and gentlefolk.]

And then he proceeded to tell me exactly where in his Kindle queue I was. He told me what book he is finishing (which I only remember part of the title, so I’ll have to jog my memory on that), and I was either the next book, or the one right after.

I may have said something about being perfectly happy just being on the Kindle, and that this “queue reveal” had me a bit giddy. And then I let him know that I had downloaded his work, read it, and thought he really was a great writer and that he definitely needed to do more writing.

And he is. He told me a little bit about that, and some other nice stuff and I walked away with super warm fuzzies and pleased with the idea that sometimes, people ARE as nice (or even nicer) than they seem.

Happy Wil is happy. (Looking as pleasant as he really is.)

And sometimes, pushing past your comfort zone is totally worth it.

*it should be noted that I have never stood in line to talk to/get something signed by a celeb before; and yes, I was concerned about the etiquette involved. WHAT ARE THE RULES?!

**I may not have said “the end” out loud. I am certain I thought it.

So, for the three of you who didn’t look at this post and say “GAH. TLDR!” I reward you with a few more images from MegaCon. If you enjoyed the rambling, tune in when I tell you all about my Friday night listening to Patrick Stewart talk Shakespeare and how I found it is entirely possible to have a crush on a septuagenarian.

I didn't snap this, but had to add it. She's a friend dressed as Idris with her two kids, Eleven and Amy.

I didn’t snap this, but had to add it. She’s a friend dressed as Idris (she made the costume!) with her two kids, Eleven and Amy.

A merry band of Jayne’s wandering by.

I love geeky couples.

As much as I love seeing Tens and Elevens, it was fun to see this Doctor.

No idea what this is, but I pretty much want one.

Can someone tell me what they are? I don’t know, but I love the group cosplayers.

He walked up after I took this and offered to pose. I squeaked out an “I’m good”.

I wanted to hug him and fight him all at the same time. Adorbs.

Even Picard and Riker need to take a break once in awhile.

I can’t explain why I love this. I just do.

He had quite the crowd of ladies about him.

Delightful!

This dude ran up to me and yelled, “It’s a trap!”

A friend has decided this is the most "meme-able" photo of the bunch. He was NOT posting for the photo. This is how he stands.

A friend has decided this is the most “meme-able” photo of the bunch. He was NOT posing for the photo. This is how he stands.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: anxiety, cosplay, crowds, geek, megacon, Orlando, patrick stewart, star trek: tng, Wil Wheaton

The One Where Wil Wheaton and the Interwebs Made Me Smile

February 21, 2013 By Amber West 36 Comments

I woke up this morning to see this:

Yeah.

That’s me.

My book.

I have all the feels.

I have lost the ability to can.

And apparently, normal coherent sentences don’t express it. So, I’ve been forced to go all Tumblr on ya’ll.

Just a few days ago, someone on the interwebs said some not very nice things.

And I know it shouldn’t matter, but I was all…

But I have lovely friends who talked me through it.

And then I read this really great post by Wil Wheaton. And then he responded to ME. And I was all…

And this was at the start of my book’s special promo on Amazon, which kicked off better than I imagined.

And it just kept getting better.

And all these lovely people, friends and TOTAL STRANGERS were sending their support.

And I went to bed knowing that my book made it to the Top 100.

And then, because I’m a little obsessive, I checked to see where things stood when I woke up. I expected to see a slip in the rankings. Which would be fine. After all, I broke the TOP 100, something I honestly didn’t think was going to happen. Really, if you had told me that I would, I probably would have laughed.