Writer/Director

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

I flew down to California a few weeks ago.

Wait. Let me be more specific.

A few weeks ago, I woke up at 2:30 AM and drove forty five minutes into town to the airport so that I could catch a 5:45 AM flight to Burbank, California.

Then I got picked up at the airport and drove straight to the studio, because the whole point of getting up at ridiculous-o-clock in the morning was to first watch Phil Lollar direct two episodes of the radio show we both write for, then direct my own episodes the following day.

What is my life, right?

Did I also mention I did all this while I was ten weeks pregnant?

And having regular bouts of morning sickness?

And taking at least one nap every single day, sometimes as early as 8 AM, because I am currently growing a tiny human who is committed to sucking away my energy, brain, and most of my sanity to fuel his (or her) growth and development?

Yeah.

Anyway, it was a miracle that I made it through without puking or falling asleep on the floor. I’m pretty sure God was looking down from heaven on me and thinking that if he didn’t give me a double shot of caffeine/adrenaline to run on for the two days I was in-studio, I was probably going to die.

Probably because I spent the two weeks before I flew down telling him that if he didn’t give me a double shot of caffeine/adrenaline to run on for the two days I was in-studio, I was definitely going to die.

Thank you, Jesus, for grace.

And adrenaline, because pregnant ladies cannot have caffeine. At least not in the dosages I would have needed.

Once I got over the nerves of being in the studio to actually direct for the first time, I had a lot of fun. Recording sessions are wildly unpredictable, and I’ve learned in my nearly-three-years working with this radio program to say ‘yes’ on the fly and worry about the consequences later. This particular session, that meant jumping into a booth to read opposite a few of the actors for one of the longer, more populated scenes, which was missing a character.

Yup, I had my own mic and headphones. Nope, you will never hear those recordings. There was a reason I became a writer instead of an actor.

But! It was fun, experience, good memories, and it helped the team, because the real actors in the scene didn’t have to do any awkward pauses to leave space for a character who wasn’t there.

I made up for it the next day, when I was the one in the director’s seat, and one of the guys on the team was filling in for one of my characters.

He had a lot more pages than I did, but I didn’t feel too bad. He’s got more experience. And talent. He played a pretty convincing teenage girl, although I think the part will still go to the original actress.

Once my episodes were recorded, we flew home the next day, and to make up for two packed days without a nap or pregnancy symptoms of any kind, I was sick for four days straight and barely got out of bed.

Growing a tiny human is hard, y’all. But at least I can now tell people that I have two skeletons inside of me. And one of them is growing.

That alone is worth the lack of sleep.

Writer’s Group and Sabbaticals

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

img_3662I went on a sleepover this weekend.

My first since quarantine, in fact.

Not that I make a habit of sleepovers. Not since I was like sixteen. Except when I get trapped in town due to crazy snowstorms and six-foot snowdrifts.

But I went on a sleepover this weekend. With my writer’s group—or most of them, anyway. (We love you and missed you, Caylene!) We ate chocolate, read each other’s work, talked about way too many stories, and stayed up until all hours of the night.

Midnight, to be specific.

Ten minutes after midnight, I knocked out.

But we got some writing done, caught up on each other’s projects, and reconnected after being away from each other for months. Kelly’s hair ended up in curlers. She looked amazing. Before and after, actually.

There was talk about pink hair dye.

That didn’t happen, but it would have been pretty exciting.

Now that I’m back home, and spending way too much time writing down all the appointments that I am making for my wedding, I’ve had to take a minute to be realistic about my energy and time right now. So . . . I’ll be on sabbatical until after my honeymoon. See you all October 1st!

On Sabbatical Until October 1st!

Back in the Office

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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I went back to work last week.

Back to my office, actually. I’ve been working all along. Just from my couch instead of my standup desk. And with free access to snacks. And very little motivation to get out of my pajamas.

It’s going to take me a little while to get used to the no-snacks thing.

Especially no popcorn.

Popcorn is my favorite.

Other than that, I’m very happy to be back in my office. I can go to the gym again, talk to my coworkers, ask my manager questions, water my special tiny tree that I bought for the occasion.

The bamboo I left behind when this whole quarantine thing began . . . ahem . . . did not survive.

Three months without water will do that to you.

It was pretty withered. And brown.

So now I have a tiny tree instead. And life at the office—at least two days a week—has begun to go back to normal. Albeit with masks. And temp checks. And sign-in, sign-out sheets. But normal!

Sort of.

Since my life is showing a serious lack of normal nowadays, normal at the office feels pretty good. So does my gym. And the occasional restaurant visit. Even wearing masks when we go out and making sure to social distance can’t change how wonderfully good it feels to be out and about and to see people.

As an introvert, I never expected to be so excited to see people again. In shops, at work, in restaurants.

Man, that’s a good feeling.

Has life begun to return to normal for you yet? How? Tell me about it in the comments!

Running Away

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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I almost got eaten by an alligator this weekend.

Maybe it was an alligator gar.

Or a catfish.

Something.

But it tried to eat me, I’m pretty sure. Killer catfish are dangerous too, you know.

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

I ran away from my life on Thursday. Packed up my car, grabbed my toothbrush, the whole nine yards. Because I’m a responsible person, I requested time off from my job and told people where I was going and when I would be back too, but it still counts as running away. I mean, I planned it in all of two days, and that’s definitely what you do when you’re running away.

You also get up ridiculously early and leave in the dark before it gets light, and I did that too.

Then I drove to Missouri. To see my editor.

It was glorious.

First off, there was the drive. I was gone for four days, and two of those were nothing but me and the open road, all the snacks I could eat, and as many audiobooks as I could possibly listen to in 24 hours of straight drive-time.

In case you were wondering, I plowed through four and a half books.

Three and a half of them were scary.

The last one was sad.

I am still questioning my choices.

The other two days were spent soaking in the  Missouri sun, canoeing down a gorgeous river straight out of Jurassic Park, almost getting eaten by a killer catfish, horseback riding through the woods, and slapping at bugs.

The catfish didn’t actually bite me.

But it flopped like it was going to bite me.

I screamed in self-defense and it was a totally normal reaction, so you can stop laughing now.

Anyway, I’m home again and running on no sleep and adrenaline, so wish me luck for the next week. I’ll sleep when I can’t run away from my problems anymore.

What were you up to this weekend? Anything special? Tell me about it in the comments! 

A Dozen Worlds

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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You know what’s crazy about being a writer? Especially one with a full-time job?

The worlds I visit.

When I first started writing, I had one story.

One.

I had fragments of others, of course. But one ‘project’. One world that occupied all my time. The characters that whispered over my writing desk and tugged words out of my poor tired brain all belonged to a single story, and I liked it that way. It helped me focus. I knew what I was working on, I knew when to work on it, and I could devote my entire attention to one lovely, blossoming story that was growing bigger every day.

That was eight years ago.

Eight very long years.

Now my life is very different. My single world has split into many. I have a half a dozen stories sprouting up at my full-time job, all in different stages. Some are seeds of ideas, still needing a little sunlight, a little love before they’re ready for other eyes on them. Some are outlines, not quite blooming yet but sprouting up hurriedly, with lots of leaves and stems that will need trimming. And some—some have flowers.

But as much as I love seeing those half-dozen stories grow and flourish, they’re not the only worlds I live in. I have others too, books that are out in the world, books that are hopping back and forth between my editor and myself, books that are still trapped on my computer. Some of them are half-finished, others need a few chapters cut here, a section rewritten there. These stories get my love after my ‘official’ work is done for the day. When I can steal ten minutes or two hours out of a busy schedule. When I have a day off or a weekend free. When I can hide away, I grab my computer and add something to the growing pages. Five hundred words, or two sentences, a new character outline. Anything I can conjure up.

These projects grow very slowly. So slowly that sometimes I worry that I’m not making any progress at all, that I’ll never reach the end.

But I will. One day.

I have two stories like that just now. One with multiple books connected to it. Two stories. Two more worlds on top of a half-dozen others.

Then, there are the stories that live nowhere but in my head. No documents, no updated notebooks, not even an outline.

The stories that will be. The worlds that haven’t been created yet.

I have a dozen of these. Some of them are small still, just ideas. Some are completely fleshed out with characters and settings and plot lines that have never yet seen the light of day.

And they won’t.

Not yet. Probably not for years. When it’s time, I’ll dust them off and write that first word. That first chapter.

Until then, they’ll live on in my head. One more world to visit—when I have the time. When I can steal the minutes.

I live in a dozen different worlds at one time.

Occasionally I visit my own world too—although maybe a little less often then I should.

What kind of worlds have you been escaping into lately? Tell me about it in the comments!

Howling at the Moon

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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This has been a strange week.

Stranger than normal, I mean.

Yes, I know, the whole world has been strange for the last few—millennium. But this week has seemed a little stranger than normal. From crazy warm weather to snow when I definitely didn’t want snow to changes in my work schedule to projects I didn’t expect to be working on to howling at the moon, this week has been strange.

Yes. I said howling at the moon.

Allow me to explain.

See, with all the virus stuff going around, we’ve been stuck in our homes a lot. And for us, it’s not so bad. We have thirty five acres, right? So we can wander around, run through the woods, find turtles, chase squirrels, and generally keep ourselves busy.

Okay, I lied.

I’ve never found a turtle on our property in all of my whole life.

But I’ve dearly wanted to do so.

The point is, we’ve got it pretty good quarantine-wise. Plenty of space, people we love, etc. But some people are stuck in their little homes and apartments, and some people are ferrying back and forth to work in the hospitals and take care of those who are getting sick.

So, we’ve been howling.

Because our healthcare workers are the heroes of this story, and one of the things that are being done to support them right now—at least in Colorado—in the eight o’clock howl.

We can’t have a parade, see. Because social distancing is important right now. So instead, we’re all coming out on our porches at eight o’clock and howling like coyotes to show appreciation for our healthcare workers and remind our neighbors and communities that we’re still here, even though we can’t come out just now.

Obviously, our ‘neighborhood’ is a little scarce on neighbors.

I’m not even sure they could hear us.

But it was the spirit of the thing that counted, and we had fun doing it. I posted a video on my Facebook and Twitter pages of the howl, but I won’t inflict it on you here. The point is, things have been a little crazy around here lately. And when things get crazy, sometimes it helps to go out and howl at the moon.

Are your communities doing anything nightly to celebrate your healthcare workers? Tell me about it in the comments!

Finding A New Normal

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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I’m working exclusively from home these days.

I think most of us are, right? Those who can anyway. I’m so, so grateful to have a job that transferred to my house as easily and smoothly as mine did, and that continued to supply the same amount of hours that I’d been working before. Still, the transition has been a little strange, and I am still getting used to my new routine and the changes it’s brought into my life.

For one thing, I dropped the eight-to-five-with-a-lunch-hour routine and now start my workday at six AM on the dot. My best writing time is always in the early morning anyway, and this new schedule leaves me with an afternoon that’s free and clear.

I’ve planted a lot of seeds.

And found a lot more time for my own writing projects.

Mostly though, I’ve been learning to balance things again. To find the routine and the rhythm that gets me into work in the morning and out of it when I finish up in the afternoon. See, before, I had my commute to rely on for that. An hour’s drive with an audiobook or with my dad for company went by much quicker than you’d think, and by the time I reached home, I was ready to be home instead of still having my head stuffed with work.

Now, I finish work on one computer and immediately feel like I should be picking up the second one to ‘get on with it’.

Except that’s not realistic.

Neither is starting work five minutes after I’ve dragged myself out of bed, which is also tempting.

So, I’ve been making habits. Habits with alarms in the morning, workouts in my tiny living room, showers and a change of clothes after work is done, time in the sun, and time with people I love. The little things make all the difference right now, and I’ve been seeking out the things that keep me sane—sunshine, fresh air, new growth, and space to breathe.

Basically, I’m building a new normal. Something sustainable, until the world starts up again and life outside our homes can continue on safely. I hope you all are doing the same!

What are you doing to keep yourself sane in your ‘new normal’? Tell me about it in the comments!

The Death of a Faithful Companion

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

60591187614__8ca26f69-213e-4cbe-b3ee-181e64ab4704-1I’m in mourning this week.

My car died.

I’m devastated.

Okay, not really. Because it was old and shabby and sounded like an airplane motor and smelled like diesel fuel. I tried not to hold it against it, but I did a little bit. Or a lot. I suffered through a lot of teasing because of that car. When I drove it, I sounded like I had aspirations for Nascar. The muffler was trashed, see, but I couldn’t tell people that when I stopped at a stoplight or revved my engine too loud in Walmart when I tried to park.

So it sounded like I just really liked my car and wanted to rev it really loud.

All the time.

But, despite its oddities, it was a good little car. We went a lot of miles together. I drove down to Missouri in it two years ago for my first solo road trip, it took me back and forth to multiple job interviews, and it was there for my first day as an apprentice scriptwriter.

I should have called it old faithful.

Actually, its name was Nat.

But, like I said, it’s dead now. Maybe I can resurrect it. But I kinda doubt it. It was about time for a new car anyway, and since I’m working from home for the next two weeks because of the crazy virus, I won’t actually need a car for a little while. So I have some time to go shopping and figure out what I want.

I’m a little excited. I have a bumper sticker from the famous Mark Ludy that I absolutely refused to put on my ridiculously loud, smelly, old car because I definitely did not want to waste it. Maybe now I’ll be able to pull it out and use it for my new one.

As long as I actually find a new one.

And my new one doesn’t sound like an airplane.

Any old faithfuls in your life on their way out? Tell me about them in the comments!

Small Improvements

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

img_3194I’ve been working on my house lately. Improving it. Fixing things.

Specifically my kitchen.

Because it’s old, and a little bit of a mess.

It needed some TLC.

So, I ripped out the old faucet, the one that leaked and was also determined only to have as much water pressure as it absolutely had to, and replaced it with a shiny new one. I can actually fill up a jug now. Or water my plants. Then, I fixed a few broken and loose tiles on the pad for my woodstove and started tiling the backdrop behind my stove. Because I was getting a little tired of grease-stained paint.

Ew.

These kinds of projects are completely new to me, and I have been figuring them out for myself—with a little encouragement from my sister and roommate. Two years ago, I would have looked at projects like these and said, “Nope. Sorry. I can’t do that. I don’t know how.”

Isn’t it funny how often I don’t know how becomes all-consuming? How quickly I can’t becomes the answer to . . . just about anything? I never realized how many walls I put up around my abilities by saying I can’t.

I couldn’t fix the problems in my house.

I couldn’t speak in public.

I couldn’t run a half-marathon.

I didn’t know how.

The last eight months have been a kind of releasing for me. I can’t has become I’ll try, and I don’t know how has become I’ll give it a shot. On Friday, I decided to see just how far I could really run and ended up with my first half-marathon under my belt. The week before, I participated in a week-long writer’s meeting and spent a whole day pitching my ideas to the group and talking about why I liked each one or thought it was important. Since starting my job, I’ve said yes to being videoed, recorded, critiqued, mentored, and even to semi-public speaking. 

Now I’m tiling my backdrop and planning for the spring, when I will be building an addition onto my home. (Because every writer needs a library.)

Suffice to say, I’ve gotten sick of the edges of my comfort zone acting as a fence. My efforts may not be completely perfect, but I can’t hasn’t factored into any of them.

I’d count that as an improvement.

What are some things that you have been doing outside your comfort zone lately? Tell me about them in the comments!

Introvert Recovery 101

Posted on by A.R. Geiger

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I had a crazy week.

Like, really crazy.

First of all, I spent all five work days at conference centers, attending—and presenting—at meetings. Which meant a lot of talking and a firehose of information. Stories were planned. Characters were examined. Exciting things happened.

I think I survived. I haven’t checked yet.

Secondly, we had quite a lot of snow, which got so bad that Wednesday night my dad got stuck on his way home and had to be rescued. I elected to stay in town for the night rather than try to make it home through the drifts. I called one of my best friends who also happens to be my godsister, and she graciously invited me to stay the night with her.

So, I slept at her house instead of going home. And fell in love with her gorgeous dog.

It was actually wonderful.

But by the time that Saturday rolled around, I was pretty much spent. Like, blank stare kind of spent. Being a scriptwriter and telling stories for a living is the best, most awesome thing ever, but it is also probably the most draining thing I have ever done. There are no auto-pilot days at the office, and my creativity takes a pretty regular beating.

So, on the weekends, I recover.

Recovery, for me, usually involves quiet moments. Silence. Stories that I don’t have to tell. And really, really good food.

Because who doesn’t love good food?

This week, I spent Saturday housesitting for a friend. I took my little sister with me, and we spent the whole day cooking good food, eating an entire carton of ice-cream between us, and watching TLC’s Say Yes To The Dress.

I fell asleep on the couch.

For several hours.

Basically, we binge-watched shows and slept the weekend away. It was exactly what I needed. Introvert recovery is hard on the best of days, but if you can find a special sister to spend it with and a place to hide away without interruptions, you’re well on your way. And, since I firmly believe that creativity is impossible without recovery in-between, it was the best thing I could have done for my books and the scripts I’m currently writing.

So everyone won!

How do you recover after a particularly draining week? Tell me about it in the comments!