The Following of Wil Wheaton

My newest & latest addiction is hanging out over on Twitter. It's been fun, great networking and of course given me a chance to chat with some awesome peeps all over. And in my adventures with Twitter I managed to stumble upon the twitter account of one Wil Wheaton.

That's right, that Wil Wheaton. Since he was one of my first childhood movie star crushes, I immediately had to follow him. I waited for a follow back. Nothing. So I began my own little quest to get Wil Wheaton to follow me back (something, judging by his 21,000 some odd followers and his 70-some odd followings that would not be easy). He has yet to follow me back and has even threatened to block people who continued to send follow requests. So far, I've yet to be blocked so there may still be hope.

All joking aside, I have actually been reading his blog and really enjoying it. He even wrote a piece for the LA Weekly about music, that for anyone who has ever read my posts over at JamsBio knows is vital to my very well-being. So it seems Wil & I have some stuff in common.

What's funny is that it was his LA Weekly piece that got me thinking about being a kid, all the things I loved as a kid and how those things have stayed with me into my adult life. Things like certain songs, certain books and of course certain movies like Stand By Me.

It reminded me of the summer that Stand By Me came out, and it reminded me of my best friend during that time. I wrote about it on JamsBio last November, and decided that I would re post it here to give some insight as to why the movie means so much to me.

The other day I was looking through my bookshelf and came across one of my favorite short stories, The Body by Stephen King. This of course the story that one of my all time favorite movies was based on, Stand By Me. I hadn't read the book, or even watched the movie in ages. In fact, I'm not sure when the last time I even thought of them was.

The great thing about a favorite book, much like a favorite song, is how quickly it can take you away. An author like Stephen King or a song like Stand By Me, has a tendency to be so perfect that you somehow feel like you're in another time and another place a million light years from where you reside in reality. I opened up the book, turned on the soundtrack and let the familiar words flow over me, like hearing an old friends voice on the phone after a million years. The strange thing was the place I started picturing in my mind was not the summer of 1959 in a town called Castle Rock, but the summer of 1986 in another small town. My small town, Livermore.

Suddenly the pictures of my mind weren't of the train tracks that I watched River Phoenix and Wil Wheaton hike down that summer a million times at the Vine Theater, but the train tracks that ran behind my house. The ones where Mikey Perry lost his life a couple summers later. The tracks I would later cross every day of my high school career at least twice, until I got my license anyway. Those tracks, that old hardcover version of Different Seasons (the book that the story The Body was in), my sister, a certain movie soundtrack, and of course my best friend and next door neighbor, Laura. Hiking down the tracks as far as we could without actually ending up in the hills of the Altamont Pass.

I remember my dad putting our old green army tent in our front yard and the three of us would camp out in the front yard. I remember the hum of the air conditioner, the dreaded countdown for school to start, and the soundtrack to Stand By Me ALWAYS playing. Pictures of River Phoenix and Wil Wheaton pasted all over me and my sister's room. That summer of '86. All of these things came across my mind like a flash as I read those first pages of The Body. Tears slowly started to well beneath the surface. I quickly, without thinking about it, flipped the pages of the book until I came to the part where Gordie describes reading about Chris's death.

Laura died in October of 2005 from cancer. I hadn't spoken to her since right after Patrick was born, and even then it was only via email. I heard through myspace & my sister actually, that she had passed away. I guess her getting sick, getting diagnosed and passing away, all happened very quickly. My daughter was only 7 months old, I was busy chasing around 2 year old son, and it was the Day after Thanksgiving that they had her memorial service in Modesto. I didn't go. It's strange how the little decisions you make on a whim sometimes haunt you forever. I should have gone.

To this day whenever I hear that oh so familiar opening to Stand By Me I think of this line from the movie, "Although I hadn't seen him in more than ten years I know I'll miss him forever. I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anybody?"

So as we all celebrate Thanksgiving, I can't help but be thankful for my childhood. My warm sweet memories and the good friends that have touched my life.

I guess my following of Wil Wheaton has less to do with "Wil Wheaton" himself, and more to do with all the great memories he represents for me.

Surviving Adolescence with Stephen King

Growing up, most pre-teen girls turn to author Judy Blume. Her books on the trials & tribulations of adolescence is often attributed to the very survival of young adulthood. For me there was someone else though. Not to say Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing didn't heavily impact my young life at the time, because it did. There was another author who planted the very seed of a dream and a passion that I would carry with me entire life. That author, Stephen King. The seed, writing.

Stephen King? You ask. Not your first thought for relatable reading material for a 12 year old girl. Strangely enough I did relate. OK, so maybe I never set my pre-teen cheerleading tormenters on fire at the school dance, but there were times it did cross my mind... The appeal that Stephen King always held for me, and still does, was not what he writes, but how he writes.

Reading a Stephen King novel is like being taken into a quiet room, and being whispered a story. No one around but you and the storyteller. The whole world outside disappears, and you are sucked into another world. So far in, that you worry about being able to get out.

Every difficult time I had as a teenager, or as an adult, I found myself turning to Stephen King. Not for advice on "how" to survive these struggles, but simply to just survive them.

Things like getting teased in the locker room for not yet wearing a bra, or the strange confusion and stress of my first period. My first heartbreak, my parents separation, alcoholism, or my big brother in Iraq during the Gulf War. Sometimes I got sick and tired of thinking about these things. I didn't want to "talk" about them, I just wanted to run away from them. Stephen King was always on the shelf and with the simple opening of a book, I'd be a million miles away. Even as I got older.

When I suffered my first miscarriage, and I was home in bed for 2 days, I reread The Stand. When I finally was going to have a baby, and I neared the end of my pregnancy, I was SO scared. I'd never stayed in a hospital before and I had no idea what to expect from childbirth, except a lot of pain. So in my hospital bag, I packed the Shining. Strange choice, but hey, I was in labor for 30 hours, and did it WITHOUT an epidural. Stephen King to the rescue again (Please note that I was hooked up to an IV with pain medication, I'm not that crazy...).

Now as I begin my thirties (turned the big 30 in October), I find the same release from just the daily stuff that life throws at me. I also find myself reexamining that seed Stephen King planted so many years ago, the passion for writing. It's something I've always done, and always wanted to do. I feel like maybe this is the year to make that change. To take it seriously. Maybe. All I know is that now when I finish a Stephen King book the same thought runs through my head, "Damn! How the hell does he do that?"

By the way, I can't finish this post without mentioning my OTHER favorite author, Chuck Palahniuk. He's a newer author(compared to Stephen King) and is the only author I can honestly say that I have read EVERYTHING this man has written. Including most essays and articles. He is another author who truly leaves me feeling totally inspired and in awe everytime I finish one of his books. A master storyteller.

One big difference between him & Stephen King, is that Chuck, I have actually had the great honor of meeting. While he was on tour for his book, Choke, I went to meet him and hear him speak in Oakland. What a wonderful guy. Sometimes when you idolize a favorite author, the real thing doesn't quite live up to your imagination. Not Chuck. His wicked humor and easy style translates very well in reality. If you haven't ever read something by Chuck, DO SO NOW! It's a ride you'll never forget.

Thanks to both of these incredible men for inspiring me everyday to live my own dreams. Also to all my writer friends out there, be proud of every little piece of immortality you put out there into the world.