My esteemed editor at the The Voice of Tucson, Mark B. Evans, emailed me recently to ask if I would be taking a booth at this year’s Tucson Festival of Books. Since I myself published a new book just last month, I really should have organized precisely that, but the idea of renting a booth had simply not occurred to me. My excuses would probably be that I was focusing on shipping out copies of the new science book, recovering from the 2011 Tucson gem show, and pondering what we could and should do during the upcoming third season of my TV series Meteorite Men. Okay, they’re excuses, but fairly good ones at least.

To my delight, Mark asked if I might be interested in appearing at the TC.com Voice of Tucson booth during the weekend and, of course, I said yes. Enthusiastically. So, my staff and I packed a big meteorite, and many small ones, a few boxes of books, and some photos and collectibles into the Aerolite Meteorites truck and headed down to the U of A campus in preparation for two 1 to 5 pm stints on Saturday and Sunday. Somebody told me that 80,000 people were expected—that’s roughly the same number of spectators in attendance when I saw Joe Cocker, Echo & The Bunnymen, and Ian Dury & The Blockheads at the massive Glastonbury Festival in the UK! Are there really that many people here interested in books in this modern world of social media? Good news if it’s true.

I was expecting some traffic around the campus, but was not prepared for complete mayhem: Closed streets, police barricades, and more bumper-to-bumper car jamming than I have ever seen in Tucson, and that includes the gem show. We eventually waded through the morass of vehicles, dolly-dragged our books and space rocks past the crowds of pedestrians, and met up with Team Voice of Tucson.

One of the issues with appearing at big public events is that I often miss things I’d like to participate in, because I am manning the booth. That’s not a complaint, just a fact. I had hoped to catch a couple of science fiction writer panels, but once I started talking to viewers of my TV series, meteorite and science enthusiasts, and fellow writers, I found myself happily engaged for the rest of the day. The was, however, one event I was not going to miss: The featured lecture by astronomer Mike Brown, author of How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming—a lively and entertaining speaker. We had a brief chat after his presentation and Mike seemed truly delighted that he’d made his large audience laugh. No surprise there—he talked about his work with a gently self-deprecating humor that was both engaging and illuminating.

Another high point was a surprise visit to the TC.com booth by author and illustrator Eric Rohmann. He was extremely complimentary about my TV show, and went on to relate an extraordinary tale about how he’d found a genuine meteorite in Illinois, at the advanced age of nine, and later had it positively identified by the Field Museum in Chicago. He certainly had me beat! I was in my thirties before I found my first meteorite. As we were chatting I pulled out a copy of my book and began inscribing it to him. “Oh, we’re going to do the book exchange thing now, aren’t we?” he asked, in a jovial manner. “We don’t have to do that,” I replied. “I’m just giving you a copy after hearing that amazing story.”

Eric then asked if I happened to like squirrels, so I freely admitted that Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin has always been a favorite of mine. I added: “And with a name like Notkin, you can imagine what the kids called me at British school.” So, he inscribed a copy of his gorgeous children’s book, Last Song, “For Geoff Nutkin.” I’ll treasure it.

The author at the 2011 Tucson Festival of Books, with a favorite space rock. Photograph © Andy Morales

The low point of the event was our first-ever meteorite theft. Well, to be entirely fair, I should really say attempted theft. On the Saturday afternoon, a family with five unruly kids descended upon the booth. These were the type of kids who are compelled to rub and grind their hands over every piece of merchandise within reach, crease book covers, and knock things on the ground. I noticed that one little boy palmed a small iron meteorite—worth about $50—from my table and then walked off in an overly-elaborate nonchalant manner. I called out to his parents: “Hey, your young man is walking off with a meteorite he hasn’t paid for!”

“Is this true?!” the father boomed (to his credit he believed me, instead of instantly lashing out at me for accusing his son. Perhaps it was regular behavior for his kid). Sure enough, once the kid’s sweaty palm had unfurled, the stolen space rock appeared. The dad dragged him back to the booth and forced him to apologize. He looked pretty shellshocked and I bet he was in for a decent spanking later on. Richly deserved in my opinion.

Another surprising and not entirely useful event was the inexplicable performance, on the main Arizona Daily Star stage, by a teenage rock band, at 4 pm on Sunday. I’ve been a professional musician for more than two decades, so don’t think I’m being a fuddy-duddy. I’m a punk rocker too and nobody likes the guitar feedback more than I do, but really, at a book fair? Organizers please note: There is a time and place for everything. Our booth was adjacent to the big stage and as a result of the band attempting to rock out we were unable to conduct any business (or even talk) for the last hour of the festival. Suggestion: Next year, if you want to feature some rock ‘n’ roll—and there’s nothing at all wrong with that—please ask the nice people at Plush if they’ll host a post-festival gig for you, instead of blasting the passers by, who were doubtless expecting a somewhat more literary experience. Odd thing, but bookworms and rockers don’t usually fit together that well.

Towards the end of the afternoon an older lady came up to the booth, looked at our display table for a moment, then asked if the meteorites were free (as least this one asked, instead of just palming one). “No,” my charming sales manager replied. “Meteorites are rare and valuable. Can I show you anything, perhaps a copy of Geoff’s new book?” To which the punter answered: “No, I’m just here for the free schwag.” Thank you for participating! One of my staff members also commented: “Most of the people here don’t seem that interested in books.” Whether or not that was true, they were out on a sunny day, at least looking at printed words, and that beats Xbox in my book. Oops, accidental pun.

I really had a blast at the festival, so don’t think I’m knocking it with my little anecdotes. I enjoyed the whole thing immensely, and I plan on returning next year when we will hopefully have less theft, no rock ‘n’ roll, and I may even be able to finally catch up with author Charles de Lint.

The author wishes to thank fellow Voice of Tucson blogger Andy Morales for permission to use his photograph.

On February 8, right in the middle of the Tucson gem and mineral shows, Variety magazine announced that the TV series Meteorite Men which I co-host with Steve Arnold, had been renewed for a third season. It was a big day for us.

Of course, Steve and I had already known for a little while, but we’d been asked to sit quietly on our excitement and keep the news to ourselves. After all, an announcement in Variety is quite a bit grander than me just shouting from the balcony outside my showroom. Variety had been promised an exclusive on the Season Three announcement and I was under specific instructions not to say anything to anyone. In the age of Facebook and Twitter even one mention to one of my viewers could have resulted in the news spreading through the gem show, and then I would have been told to stand in the corner—an experience I was all too familiar with from British public school. I was, therefore, in a happy, yet awkward situation.

The Meteorite Men on location. Photograph by Pablo del Rio Larrain © Aerolite Meteorites LLC

With many Meteorite Men fans visiting the showroom daily, we kept a friendly and unofficial tally of the most popular questions, which were: “Are you doing a third season?” “Where can I get your show on DVD?” “Where are you going next?” and “Is this rock I found a real meteorite?” Oh, and “Can I please go hunting with you?” was in the running too. When viewers take the time to come visit me, and compliment me on the show, and are clearly enthusiastic about my work, and space rocks, and science programming in general, I really don’t feel comfortable lying to them. So, I found myself—for those few rather inconvenient days—dancing around the answer to Question Number One and saying things along the lines of: “We hope to hear news any day now,” or “We are cautiously optimistic,” and in some cases, “If you’d like to see more Meteorite Men please let our friendly network, Science Channel, know.”

So, when the Variety piece came out on the 8th, I was able to relax a little, fully embrace the news, and share it with our viewers. Debbie Myers, the radiant general manager of Science Channel telephoned to congratulate us, and I greatly enjoy Debbie’s company, so that was the best part for me. I told her that I couldn’t imagine having a better boss, and she told me that we should be very proud because most series don’t make it to a third season.

Filming in Kansas with Paul Sr. of "American Chopper" fame. Photograph by Suzanne Morrison © Aerolite Meteorite LLC

During Season Two of Meteorite Men Steve and I had our own cameraman and soundman. As he and I typically split up while hunting for space rocks, and head off in opposite directions, doing things our own way and at our own speed, we each had a separate camera/sound duo assigned to follow us. You end up sharing a lot of powerful moments with those guys: The excitement of a find; the unpleasant surprise of nearly stepping on a snake; the fatigue and disappointment of a long, unsuccessful day. Many times, my cameraman would stop me for a minute, and ask some perceptive off-the-cuff questions: “How are you feeling about this particular site Geoff?” or “What are your tactics going to be for the last hour of daylight?” Meanwhile, the poor soundman has to listen to me blather away, literally for months on end—and through headphones no less! That is dedication to your work.

I was a professional musician for many years, and I discovered that traveling around the world with a film crew is very similar to the band experience. The team works long days, shares moments of hardship and exuberance; there is socializing in bars after hours and, of course, the requisite retelling of amazing stories from other shoots and adventures.

When filming for the season is over, it can be quite sad. We had basically the same crew for six of the eight Season Two episodes and you get to know people, somewhat, when you work with them twelve hours a day, for long months on the road. When I said goodbye to Second Camera operator Tim Murphy in the shopping center of Heathrow Airport, it was the sixth country we’d visited together during a four-month period. We had camped in below-freezing temperatures inside a giant meteorite crater; consumed steaming hot coca leaf tea in the wilderness of the Atacama Desert (entirely legal there, I might add), pulled a 223-pound space rock out of a green field in Kansas, and excavated gaping holes deep in an ancient forest north of the Arctic Circle. Those are not everyday experiences, and I found myself liking and admiring these hardworking men whose job it was to make us look as good on screen as they could manage. I remember saying to Tim, as we shook hands, that I had particularly enjoyed his gentle sense of humor, and I hoped we would cross paths again.

The author under the bluest of skies, at an abandoned train station in the Atacama Desert. Photograph by Steve Arnold © Aerolite Meteorites LLC

Making quality television takes a lot of time. The gaps between seasons can be several months in length. Once filming is complete, scripts need to be written, footage edited, sound effects and music collected, narration recorded, and science facts checked. While those tasks are being carried out by the specialists in post-production, the others— the cameramen, soundmen, producers, and directors—still have to eat and pay rent, so they will likely take the next available project, and we don’t know if we will ever have the opportunity to work with them again.

We expect to commence filming Season Three in the late spring or early summer so, before too long, production will start “staffing up.” That is, hiring people who will work exclusively on that season. For my co-host and myself, it’s a bit like starting at a new school: You have some idea of what you are going to be doing, but you don’t know who you’ll be doing it with. I am a huge movie buff and I love the process of putting a program together. I’m also a photographer, have done a bit of independent film making, and used to work as an audio engineer. As such, I have learned a lot from our talented crews, and I’ve also shared plenty of laughs with them. A favorite moment in Chile was when one of our soundmen took me aside and quietly said: “It’s really fun to hang out with you and Steve. We usually aren’t allowed to talk to the talent.” I found his revelation shocking! What TV host would travel around the world and not want to share some drinks and good humor with these hardworking and highly entertaining professionals?

Fun on the road: Some serious off-roading in Australia's Northern Territories while filming Season Two (and I was driving!). Photograph by Steve Arnold © Aerolite Meteorites LLC

In a month or two I’ll be meeting the Season Three team, and we shall begin contemplating long journeys to strange places, in search of even stranger rocks from space. My job, at the moment—and Steve’s—is to research possible sites, sift through old science papers and reference works, and try to figure out where we should go in order to continue the hunt.

In my spare time—that being a rather narrow window between the end of Season Two and the beginning of the 2011 gem show—I wrote a book. And that reminds me that I forgot to include one of those very popular questions in my list and it was: “How can I find my own meteorite?” I put the answers to that in Meteorite Hunting: How To Find Treasure From Space, which was published on February 1. By very kind invitation of The Voice of Tucson, I shall be appearing at the Tucson Festival of Books this weekend. I’ll have copies of the new work available for sale and signing, and I hope to meet some of the Meteorite Men viewers who reside here in town. Come on down and meet a genuine space rock (and I don’t mean me—I’ll have some fabulous meteorites on display). I will be at the TucsonCitizen.com booth Saturday and Sunday from 1 pm to 5 pm. The FOB is a great event. If you have not attended before, come along and experience it for yourself. If you care about words on paper, you will not be disappointed.

It’s great to be back! And by that, I mean back in Tucson (in time for the lovely fall weather) and back writing for The Voice of Tucson. I’ve been absent from The Logical Lizard, not through lack of affection, but because I have been working every single day since May of this year on Season Two of my television series Meteorite Men. And I thought the first season was hard work.

Last year we were given a tall order by Science Channel: produce six one-hour episodes in seven months. We weren’t quite sure how we’d manage but we did—barely. The final episode was delivered to the network just five days before its air date. Five of those episodes were filmed in the US, and one in Canada. It was exciting, challenging, occasionally dangerous, sometimes hysterically funny, and often exhausting.

Steve and Geoff on location filming "Meteorite Men," June 2010. Photo by Suzanne Morrison.

For Season Two we were given just five months to produce eight one-hour episodes, and five of those were to be filmed overseas. So, since late June, I have traveled more than 60,000 miles; walked on four continents; visited eight countries; seen ten states in the Union plus the District of Columbia; completed over twenty interviews for radio, print and social media; encountered extraordinary wildlife including camels, llamas, eagles, thousands of wild parrots, a lizard the size of a dog, kangaroos, emus, and a three-legged cat. Oh, and we got to guest star on American Chopper.

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As Douglas Adams noted in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: “How ever fast the body travels, the soul travels at the speed of an Arcturan Mega-Camel.” In other words, while I was filming in the Arctic Circle, my overstimulated brain had not finished processing my adventures in the high Atacama Desert of Chile. While dozing in a tent in the Australian Outback, I had dreams that I was still exploring salt flats in the American West at 103 F, during a previous shoot. A couple of nights ago, I woke up in utter darkness at about 4:30 am (our call time on shoot days was typically 6 or 6:30 am) grabbed my alarm clock and thought to myself: “Which hotel am I in? What time is my flight!” before realizing that I was, in fact, at home in my own bed and there were no more flights. At least for this season.

The Meteorite Men on their Orange County Chopper. Season Two location shoot, June 2010. Photo by Suzanne Morrison.

Only one of our field team from Season One joined us for our 2010 “world tour,” and she—Senior Producer Sonya Gay Bourn—has always been the most indispensable member of the road crew. So, if we could keep just one of the original team, we wanted it to be her. During our first night on location for Season Two, we had a meet and greet with our new director, co-executive producer, director of photography, second camera, sound men, and camera tech. I raised my glass to Sonya and said: “If I found myself in the middle of the screaming wilderness during, say, the 19th Century, with thousands of ferocious warriors descending upon my position—weapons raised for attack—and could only have one person standing next to me, that person would be Sonya.” No disrespect to my stalwart co-host Steve Arnold, and I promise you, he feels the same way.

I have never met anyone like Sonya, and I am quite sure there is nobody in the world remotely like her. Brilliant, sassy, unconventional, striking, fearless, and resourceful, she is also an accomplished director, writer, and former stand-up comic. She also seems to know almost everyone on the planet, well, almost everyone worth knowing. Steve likes to joke that if we got into a serious jam—in the most desolate corner of the world—Sonya would know somebody at the local helicopter outfit and, with the aid of the sat phone and Blackberry from which she is never separated, would arrange an airlift for us in less than thirty minutes.

The Meteorite Men on the hunt. Atacama Desert location shoot, August 2010.

One of my favorite shows on television these days is Animal Planet’s Whale Wars—a gripping documentary series that chronicles the ecological group Sea Shepherd’s hair-raising attempts to curtail illegal Japanese commercial whaling. It’s one of the few programs that holds my attention from the first frame to the last. Those guys have nerves of steel and big eco hearts. Imagine my delight, therefore, when I discovered that two of the brightest lights in our 2010 crew were the cameramen from Whale Wars. We camped together for four nights in one of the most inaccessible parts of the Australian wilderness and they enthralled me—as we sat around the campfire—with harrowing tales of their adventures on board the Sea Shepherd vessels. Now that is a fireside chat.

Photo by Suzanne Morrison

Once I finally returned to my desert home one of my friends asked: “So was it fun? What did you see?”

I paused for a moment—jet lag trying to convince the parts of me traveling at the speed of an Arcturan Mega-Camel that I was still at least partly on the other side of the Earth—then replied: “Everything. I’ve seen everything.”

Meteorite Men Season Two premieres this coming Tuesday, November 2, on Science Channel and Science Channel HD. Air times here in Tucson are 6 pm with a repeat at 9 pm (Cox Digital); and 7 pm with a repeat at 10 pm (Comcast Digital).