Sometimes crap just happens.
Three weeks ago, I was happily enjoying my time in the Laurentians with people I had not been physically near to in two years. It was a beautiful day, I was striding along, possibly humming a happy tune to myself – until suddenly I wasn’t. Faster than it takes for you to read this, I flew off a ledge I hadn’t known was there, landed hard, and just like that, broke a bone in the middle of my foot. A spiral fracture. The first day of vacation!
Now there are all kinds of silver linings to this: bones often heal better than soft tissue injuries; I received care and pain meds. All good things in a not-good event. The vacation, other than that incident, went on beautifully. Back home, my people have been fantastic at helping with a plethora of chores that require one to stand on two feet to do, everything from dropping off treats, making library runs, and getting groceries to putting the storm door windows in my old house up for me.
my last nerve
Having said that: I have not sustained an injury that will keep me grounded for 6 – 8 weeks (and I hope you never do) before. I had no idea how after only 3 weeks, physical inactivity would get on my last nerve.
How am I going to deal with this? I’m reading many, many books. And binge-watching sci-fi shows I either have loved for years or have always wanted to see. But I’m still twitchy.
Then of course, it comes to me: I also have one more thing I can do to endure this enforced stay cation. I can write about it.
grist for the mill
Not just the cathartic part,writing about the experience and the physical descriptions of events pertaining to the accident: I’m now also doing research on how bones break and heal. Yep, I’ve created a scenario wherein a character is laid up with a broken foot, which has a bearing on a series of events in a story I’m working on. Because she couldn’t run, something happened that would not have happened before. It’s one of those points in a story where you feel the tension of someone normally strong and independent dealing with unexpected repercussions, even weakness.
Because everything that happens to us as writers is grist for the writing mill, isn’t it?
