Some Uncomfortable Research


I’m sitting in my Starbucks, squirming.

I’ve reached a point in the story where Val has incurred a dislocated shoulder and has to relocate it herself.

Now, you see this in movies all the time. No big deal, right?


I actually dislocated my right shoulder when I was about 9 years old. I remember dislocating it, I remember running to my grandparents crying. I remember that we didn’t go to the hospital. I remember my Papa coming to me, hands on my bad arm and saying, “hold still.”

And that’s it.

I have no other memories of that night. Don’t know if I passed out, or if I’ve just blocked it out, but it must have been bad either way.

So, for this scene I decided to research dislocated shoulders and the proper treatment.

Thanks to the internet I just read a step by step guide on how to reset your own dislocated shoulder. Completely educating and useful in terms of the story, utterly terrifying for my inner child. My right shoulder started to ache, and I had to keep moving it, rotating it to be sure that it does indeed function.

I feel bad. Guilty that I’m putting Val through this, when she’s already in the most emotional turmoil of her life. Not only is she an emotional wreck, but her left arm is still burned, and now her right shoulder is out of commission.

Oh, and it’s raining.

So now, I’m at the scene. I’m writing this blog instead of Val’s shoulder relocation, because I’m so uncomfortable. I’m a squirming, fidgety mess in the lobby of my store.

But, it’s so close. This is the ending scene of this chapter, and then the ever difficult chapter 11 will be over. I will have won. Just this last scene and chapter 11 with end at over 2,300 words.

I can’t give up now. I won’t.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s