Well, it’s black walnut season again, and these heavy, baseball-sized projectiles are falling from the tree in our yard. When you hear one hit the roof of a parked car, you know it’s gonna hurt if one hits you.

Most writers probably don’t have to worry about getting pelted by walnuts. But I’m outside, trying to finish off the last chapter set of The Wind From Heaven, and there are walnuts falling all around me.

Why don’t I just write indoors? Nuisance phone calls are only one of many distractions. Besides, over the years, I’ve come to need the outdoors as my studio. Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to imagine imaginary people in imaginary places and write them up in such a way that readers can believe they’re real. I need the birds, the bees, the butterflies, the sky, the grass, and the trees. When I write my fiction, I’ve just got to be outdoors.

Risk of falling walnuts notwithstanding.

Anyway, I’ve got to finish the book before the cold weather sets in, and I’m plugging away at it every day I can. May the Lord make my work fruitful in His service–and protect me from getting beaned while I do it.