Celebrating one year of words

That title feels pretentious to me, at first thought, because I don’t wish to imply that I’m celebrating anything more than words. One year ago, I began RollingDoughnut.com with a simple paragraph:

This is my first entry. This will be immortalized forever as the first entry in which I say nothing important. Absolutely nothing.

I don’t claim anything more than the words. There were no giant leaps in literature, no spectacular, life-altering speeches. Not even brilliant words, most of them. Just words. But I wrote 83,203 of them in the last 366 days.

What those words have done, though, is more important. They’ve taught me how to write. They haven’t completed my education, as if that’s possible. I can’t foresee a day in which words are effortless, but I can imagine one in which the struggle to string them together is joy. I’ve inched closer to that ideal thanks to the words posted for nothing more than my desire to write.

My biggest surprise over the last year is how those words have also taught me what I believe, as well as helping me to discover new beliefs I didn’t know I possessed. I started RollingDoughnut.com to write. I didn’t know what I wanted to write about, but I knew I needed to join the parade of bloggers. As I’ve mentioned a few times, I want to be a professional writer but I caved to fear too many times in my past. I envisioned this blog as writing without a goal that could kick start me towards writing with a goal. I could post random details about my daily life and practice my narrative techniques, but I got bored with this idea before I started doing it regularly. I realized that my daily life isn’t that fascinating. Going to work and reading magazines is poor fodder for most narratives.

What RollingDoughnut.com has become is different and more interesting than that. My ranting commentary on random events started in August with Escalators Are Not Hard To Use. I began to enjoy the ranting posts when I wrote my second, I Am Not Dennis Hopper. The words flowed easier because I cared about expressing my opinion. When writing, I’ve learned to chase the joy.

September was a wash because I was delirious from sleeplessness. I worked more than 300 hours that month, so my coherent thoughts declined rapidly until the return of Alias. I did enjoy a hurricane, though.

I only posted twice in October. For the first half of the month, I was using my stored vacation from September. The rest of the month I lacked the inclination because the desire to write hadn’t taken over.

It didn’t take over again in November. I participated in NaNoWriMo 2003, so that captured most of my writing energy. I was also un-staffed in my old job, so motivation to be productive was low. I was burnt out on thinking. And I caught the Tono in Las Vegas.

In December, I posted a few times about whatever was on my mind, from Kurt Vonnegut to the earthquake in Virginia. Then I went to Atlanta. As a lifelong Dale Murphy fan, I had to post about this. Reliving My Dale Murphy Childhood was the turning point of my RollingDoughnut.com motivation. I didn’t know if I could write a nostalgic travelogue. Trying was fun.

In January I discovered the beauty of skiing. I wrote what was supposed to be the complete recap, but it became part one of five. I took me more than a month to finish and ended at more than 8,700 words, but it was a great challenge.

February was the beginning of the free speech and marriage equality posts. These themes continued, flowing through March and into April. (They still catch my attention).

In April I began to write about the 2004 Presidential Election. I got trapped in my bathroom again. I also wrote about Lemonade Stories, a film by Mary Mazzio about extraordinary entrepreneurs and their mothers. From that post, I received a copy of Lemonade Stories. After I watched it in May, I wrote my first movie review.

May also saw the beginnings of cicada infestation in the Washington, DC area. I discovered the evils of the cicada in my backyard and my refrigerator. Some of those cicadas may have eaten three commuters’ brains.

June was highlighted by “It’s not anymore the two-ply.” Despite having other posts, June didn’t need others to be complete. Thank you, Governor Schwarzenegger.

In July I had fun with Senator Allen. I also wrote my second movie review., which was considerable fun to write. And lest anyone forget, I celebrated my birthday. Ending July, I prepared for Vegas and my rendezvous with Wil Wheaton. When I returned in August, I wrote about it here, as well as meeting Flash Gordon.

Flash Gordon capped the year at 199 posts. Reminiscing has been fun for me because I’ve been able to see the changes and growth in my writing over the last year. If nothing else, I have a large body of words to remember. 83,203 words are enough to fill a novel.

I was hesitant before starting RollingDoughnut.com and didn’t know what to expect when I began writing blog entries. I recently discovered that the act of writing for its own sake can bring unexpected surprises. When I wrote my review of Lemon
ade Stories
, I intended to alert as many people as possible to watch a worthy film. What I received was an outcome I never could’ve dreamed about: I was quoted in the film reviews section of the Lemonade Stories site, ABOVE the viewer feedback. My name doesn’t appear on a movie poster, but I’m quoted with writers from USA Today, NPR, The Boston Globe, and Fast Company.

One year ago, that would’ve seemed illogical, but there it is. And I realized that I like seeing my name in “print”. Not for my ego, because I could satisfy that with a vanity press. I like it in the same way that a carpenter likes his furniture. It’s not for recognition, money, or any other extraneous goal. I’m proud of my execution of the craft. For at least one moment I can call myself a writer and know that it’s true.

Get Your Geek On

From the moment Danielle and I landed at McCarran Airport, getting to the Las Vegas Hilton was our sole focus.

&#60begin tedious details here&#62

– We picked up the rental car.
– We navigated through Las Vegas lunch hour traffic.
– We avoided random traffic cones in the street that served no apparent purpose.
– We parked in the free garage at the Hilton.
– We meandered through the Hilton casino looking for the Star Trek convention.
We Danielle asked for guidance from a quaint security guard who pointed us to the convention area.

&#60end tedious details here&#62

At 12:15pm we arrived at the Will Call window table in front of the dealer auditorium. After some brief information gathering, we figured out that we hadn’t missed the Wil Wheaton autograph session. We didn’t yet know when it would be, but we hadn’t missed it. One step at a time.

Looking through the program, we discovered that the schedule included Wil Wheaton’s book reading at 1pm. His improv group, Earnest Borg 9, would perform at 6:40pm, forty minutes after the scheduled end of festivities.

Since we had more than forty minutes before the reading, we circled the dealer auditorium to learn what kind of crap memorabilia was for sale. We saw little of interest, with the limited array of oddball items available. It was just Star Trek figures, t-shirts, videos, and pictures. Our senses were overloaded, so we weren’t scanning closely enough to find the hidden gems.

The multitude of autograph tables with unrecognizable celebrities did catch our attention. Most of these people seemed to be no-name, B-list stars, but in the Star Trek universe, they were Big&#153. Even if Big&#153 is defined as Alien #3 in any random episode, Star Trek actor is never a small role. Strange.

(I was excited to see one particular star, one not named Wil Wheaton. More in my next post…)

Realizing that we wished to get good seats, we left the dealer auditorium to seek out the room for Wil Wheaton’s book reading. We found this quickly, but it was occupied by an appraiser who determines the value of Star Trek memorabilia. Think Star Trek Antiques Roadshow. With thirty minutes to go until 1:00, we picked seats near the front and waited. I don’t wish to give the impression that the appraiser was boring, because he wasn’t, but we were restless. We had no Star Trek memorabilia to sell, so we just wanted some Wheaton.

We got the brilliant idea to seek out the Photo-Op with Wil Wheaton in the dealer auditorium. We had some time to kill and pictures would be cool. We journeyed back. After some head-scratching, misguided navigation, we found the booth and got in line. Within a couple of minutes, a volunteer let us know that only one actor was taking photos at the time. It wasn’t Wil Wheaton.

Twenty minutes to go, so we had to hustle. When we got back to the correct auditorium, more people had filled the seats. Worst of all, the front row was packed. We were bummed that our plan had backfired on both fronts, but we gambled and lost. Vegas, baby, Vegas.

At one o’clock, the moderator thanked the appraiser and led into his Wil Wheaton introduction. He then pointed and asked Wil to come up front. He’d been sitting in the audience all along. Doh!

He bantered, then read from Just A Geek and Dancing Barefoot. We laughed. Even though I’d read all the stories, he entertained me. Hearing him read his stories is the same as hearing David Sedaris read his work. The words are great written on the page, but reading them aloud infuses them with their full spectrum of life. I can’t wait for the unabridged audiobook. (Here’s a picture from the reading.)

Brent Spiner’s speech was scheduled to begin at 2:00 in another room and that was fast approaching. A steady stream of people had begun to leave the book reading for that already. I like Brent Spiner’s work, but even if I wasn’t at the convention specifically for Wil Wheaton, the reading was too good to think of leaving. Since many other people were enthralled enough not to leave, we had a surprise guest. From WWdN:

My performance from Just A Geek and Dancing Barefoot was awesome! The room was almost full, and I felt like the audience was “with me” the entire time. Near the end of my time, Brent Spiner walked into the room, and told me, in front of everyone, that he’d read Dancing Barefoot “cover to cover,” and that he liked it! Then he told me to wrap it up, so “these people can come over and listen to me talk.” It was really funny, and really cool.

Two pictures I took are here and here.

At the end of the reading, he announced that he’d be in the dealer auditorium to sign autographs, which was our cue to run, don’t walk to his booth.

Ok, so we walked. We were semi-self-respecting adults conforming ourselves to public standards. Besides, we had to look cool since Wil was behind us. He probably didn’t notice us, but he certainly would’ve noticed if we ran to the auditorium like a couple of dumbasses. So we walked.

While he settled into his booth, greeting people he knew along the way and chatting with his wife, we waited. When I meet celebrities, I hate to be anything other than last in line. I get self-conscious and would rather not have the added pressure of people behind me, waiting for my brain to snap back on its hinges. If we didn’t have a tight time window with just enough time to check in at New York, New York and munch at Gonzalez Y Gonzalez, I would’ve snuck my way to the back of the line. Instead, we waited in the middle, in the order that we arrived. This was ideal, I realized, because I had time to “prepare” my comments without over-rehearsing. Who knew?

The moment arrived. We focused on Wil and stepped to the table with autograph tickets in hand. “Do we give these to you,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “What would you like me to sign?”

He had pictures available, which were included in the price of the autograph (I think). He also had books available for sale, so Danielle bought a copy. Having already purchased mine, I handed it to him.

“Did you buy this in a bookstore?”

“Yes.”

He looked at me, stood up, and stuck out his hand. “I want to shake you
r hand. Thank you so much for buying my book in a real bookstore. That’s so cool.”

Not being a published author, it struck me as quaint that a person buying your book in a store would be so shocking. When I imagine myself in his situation, as someone “washed up” in his first profession, who has found his next passion, it made sense. I liked him more than I did when we arrived in Vegas.

I began to tell him how I’ve never seen Star Trek and the rest of the story about my original impression of him. I got through my being from Virginia and that I knew an extra on Toy Soldiers. When I mentioned the title of the movie, a pained look comes over his face.

“I was an asshole to your friend, wasn’t I?”

“I believe the word he used was ‘dick’,” I said.

“Tell your friend I’m so sorry.”

Danielle speaks. “How old were you when you made that film?” I know the answer to this, only because Wil is 11&#189 months older than I am. That’s simple math for me.

“I was 18. I was a bit of an asshole to everyone at that age.”

“You were a teenager, that’s what teenagers do,” she said.

“I know, but tell your friend that I’m so sorry.”

“We were really just high school friends,” I said. I followed with the shortened version of the remaining details about how I became a Wil Wheaton reader. Anne Wheaton walked to the table and sat down next to Wil.

“Anne, this is Danielle and Tony. They came all the way from Virginia.”

She looked at us and smiled. She seemed a little timid about his enthusiasm, which we suspect is due to the crazy Star Trek stalker factor. A logical and valid concern.

She wrote a few posts for WWdN that I thought were excellent, so I compliment her on her writing ability.

“Oh, but it takes me 50 times longer to write than Wil,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. You write well and that’s the key.”

“Thank you.”

Our time was up (which is why I like being in the back of the line… more time to stare at the celebrity), so we thanked Wil one more time and walked away.

As I’d learned from his writing and acting, Wil Wheaton is funny. He’s a great writer and performer. When I meet celebrities with sketchy reputations, I’m always apprehensive because I don’t want to be disappointed. Wil Wheaton did not disappoint. He exceeded my expectations. I’m happy to report that Wil Wheaton is cool.

The secret is this

Wil Wheaton was a dick. For many years, that’s what I thought, even though I’d never met him. I’d seen Stand By Me when it showed up cable. I’d even seen him on Star Trek: The Next Generation, even though that was only while flipping past whichever channel was airing it. But I knew. I knew it because it mattered that some guy, some actor, on the other side of the country was a dick. Gossip is the coinage of teenage youth. Besides, no tabloid magazine was necessary. I had a first-person account.

A few months ago, I wrote about my high school friend, John Aboud, and how he was part of the group of friends with whom I ate lunch every day. Also among that group was Grady Weatherford. Grady was a Junior that year, my Senior Year. I don’t remember how we added him to our group, but we did. And he was an actor. And during that year, he landed a role in Toy Soldiers, playing the all-important role of student. I had an “in”.

Never having worked on a movie, we quizzed Grady any day he was in school during filming of Toy Soldiers. I don’t remember who first brought up Wil Wheaton’s name. I didn’t even care about Wil Wheaton. I just wanted to learn the truth about Gordie Lachance, a.k.a. “TV’s Wil Wheaton”.

In what was inevitably a throw-away comment, we learned that Wil Wheaton was a dick. Who needs to question that? That knowledge was good enough for me. And my life continued happily for years.

While in graduate school, I spent the summer between my first and second year staying up late, playing on the new-fangled Internet, and watching random movies on cable. One night, I saw a movie called Pie in the Sky. I’d never heard of the movie, but it starred Josh Charles. Since I’d enjoyed his performances in Threesome and Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead, I stuck around when it came on.

So I’m watching and enjoying the movie when “that guy who I heard was a dick” showed up on screen as Jack, Charlie Dunlap’s (Josh Charles) best friend. I’m not going to describe what happened in the scene because you should watch the movie, but this is important: I laughed. So I thought “That guy’s funny. I wonder if he’s still a dick…”. Over the next few years, I watched Pie in the Sky enough to memorize most of the dialogue. Every time I watched, I always laughed at “that guy who I heard was a dick but seems to be funny”.

On November 25, 2002, I read Whitney Matheson’s Hip Clicks in USA Today. This is what she wrote:

The Onion A.V. Club interviews Wil Wheaton this week. The star of Stand By Me and Star Trek: The Next Generation also has a great Web site; if you haven’t checked it out, you should.

“Hey! It’s that guy,” I thought. I wanted to know what he might have to say. There was no investment in clicking, just satisfying a curiousity. I clicked my way to WIL WHEATON dot NET.

I first recognized that his site was set up like this new internet phenomenon I’d heard about called a weblog, or “blog” to the kids in the know. I started reading. The first post I read included this paragraph:

A few months ago, I made this major decision in my life: I would stop applying a singular focus to getting work as an actor. I would continue to accept auditions as they came along, but I wasn’t going to break my back, or sacrifice time with my friends and family to play Hollywood’s game.

“Dicks” don’t sacrifice their career for their family. Do they? I read more. And more, until I noticed a theme. He’d lived his life, faced struggles, and transformed himself into a family man/writer/actor who was not a dick. Having never met him, I couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t a dick, but I could sense enough from his writing to assume the best about him. My old uninformed opinion fell away.

I bookmarked his site and checked in multiple times a day, waiting for each post. Last summer, he self-published a book, Dancing Barefoot, which I bought and read and enjoyed. When I bought Just A Geek, I jumped into the pages immediately and found a writer with a skill few writers possess: he made me laugh, out loud, while riding the subway. (I recommend Just A Geek. For a little more depth in a review, consider reviews here and here.) When a writer can do that, allow me to paraphrase a quote from Richard Bach: I hope Wil Wheaton makes a million dollars from Just A Geek.

As I said, I’ve never watched Star Trek, yet Danielle and I added an extra day to our vacation in Las Vegas when we learned that Wil Wheaton is signing autographs and performing at this weekend’s Star Trek Convention. We’ve already purchased our admission and autograph tickets, so after this
weekend, besides striking Star Trek Convention from my Crazy Things I Never Thought I’d Do&#153 list, as I did with the Miss America Pageant, I’m anxious to confirm that Wil Wheaton is not a dick, that he’s just a geek.

(Was that too much Hallmark to be David Sedaris?)

Clarity isn’t a maker of hair dye

Devin Balkcom taught a robot to fold paper. Better than just folding paper, the robot can do origami. This amazing feat will carry Devin Balkcom from Mister to Doctor upon his graduation from Carnegie Mellon University in August. It’s a great accomplishment for him. Blah, blah, blah.

I’d like to focus on the brilliant writing in the news story. Apparently, the robot is smarter than anyone could’ve hoped. Read and comprehend:

Matthew Mason, a professor of computer science and robotics, thought building such a robot would be so daunting that he didn’t encourage Devin Balkcom’s plans to do so in January 2003. But today, Balkcom has a robot that can make paper airplanes and hats and is scheduled to earn his doctorate with the project in August.

Perhaps it’s not a good idea to explain the achievements of a Really Smart Guy&#153 with an unclear sentence. Without deciphering to derive the intended meaning, the structure of the second sentence implies that the robot can do origami and, as a side note, will be earning a doctorate because of it. Pretty language and complex sentences are ideal for a novelist, but an Associated Press writer should not try to be a novelist before clarifying the facts. I would never discourage interesting writing, but it’s journalism, so closer to Ernest Hemingway than Stephen King should be the goal. I’m just saying…

The key to good writing

I’m amending yesterday’s post to clarify my theory on good writing. The word “Brevity” isn’t the best explanation for good writing. Here’s the secret to good writing: “Omit needless words.” In the example given yesterday, “well” is needless.

This advice is courtesy of On Writing by Stephen King and The Elements of Style by William Strunk and E.B. White. I would’ve remembered this yesterday, but the Spring Training euphoria clouded my brain.

Stealing ideas

Danielle received a comment on her entry “ICH BIN EIN GOOGLE RESULTAT”, plugging RollingDoughnut.com because I get better Google searches. Specifically, Gump left the following comment for Danielle: “I am jealous that Tony is just out there without a host. How many readers does he get?”

In just a statement and a question, Gump summed up my webmaster duties for my blog. I chose to set up this site on my own, to code it and to maintain it for one simple reason: I love the challenge of figuring out new tasks. If the new task is related to technology, it’s even better. I love that I’m only constrained by my imagination. If I want to add a database to my blog, I can do that. If I want to add a guestbook, I can code that. It takes me longer than just snapping together assembled parts like Legos, but it’s more fun for me. Since no one is paying me to do this, I’m going to have fun.

There’s nothing wrong with sites like Diaryland and LiveJournal. They can even make life easier for writers. With the built-in community, they enable writers to get readers quicker. But they don’t suit my mentality.

I’ve chosen to bypass that and build everything myself. Initially, I was doing it because I like the “empire building” involved in starting from scratch. Rather than torture, becoming a hermit, learning to code a website is my idea of a glorious adventure.

Yet, as much fun as I have in my empire building, I’ve learned that the true value is in giving my writing time to evolve and improve. Looking back over some of my earliest posts, I’m stunned by the progression. As I near my 100th post, I now have an archive that allows new readers to jump in. I can begin marketing with a foundation to support my “sales pitch”.

The result of my labor is that I now get between 7 and 10 unique hits every day. Even though that doesn’t seem huge, I’ve seen my hits creep upward over the last few months.

I write for the joy of writing, not the readership. Whether the number is 7, 70, or 700 people who read my site, I write for myself and everyone else is a bonus. But I enjoy that people are reading my words. I know everyone won’t agree with me, but people are thinking about my ideas. What more could I ask for, besides $100,000?

In conclusion, I like independence. It’s good.