I’m writing from the dregs of summer. The weather at the Warren has been in the mid- to upper-nineties for weeks, and there’s been very little rain. I’ve managed to keep the pumpkin patch watered, but there’s too much corn to spray. I went to check on my poor thirsty stalks this morning and saw, to my delight, silvery-green tassels bursting from a few of the crooks. That tells me the roots are getting enough water from the soil without my help, and it won’t be long before I see beautiful new ears of corn in the garden, drought or no drought. Why am I surprised?
That brings me to The Warden and the Wolf King. One could argue that I’m only writing this post because I’m procrastinating. Well, the corn in the garden reminds me that things take time, and grow at their own speed. I’m not procrastinating as much as percolating. I’m not ignoring the story–I’m waiting for it. The crazy part about writing a book is that a lot of the work is done not just when you’re banging words out on the computer, but when you’re doing the dishes, riding your bike, reading your bible, and eating dinner. On the other hand, no amount of thinking can take the place of banging words out. We plant the seeds, but God makes them grow. Spirit and flesh.
All that to say, I’m working on the new book. Can’t wait for you to read it.
I was tending to old emails this morning and found one from 12-year-old Maggie Rice, which included an excellent drawing of Chimney Hill that I wanted to share with you guys. Thanks for reading, Maggie! This picture is so good.