Setback!

Rainwashed Trumpet Vine

Quick reassurance. I haven’t done anything too horrible to myself, but one of the great problems with recovering from surgery to something like a shoulder, which you use all the time, is that it’s easy to overestimate just how much you can do. That’s what I did a couple of days ago when a rain shower led me to want to be out and about in my yard to attempt to do more than it turned out I should have been doing. So, the next day I found I’d set myself back a bit.

As I sat, alternately reading and applying cold packs to abused muscles, I found myself thinking that recovery from surgery and writing—especially a longer work, although it can apply to a shorter one as well—have a lot in common. Those of you who have been reading these Wanderings for a while have probably gathered that one of my pet peeves is the increasing trend toward viewing writing as something to be measured in work count, said word count to be bragged about as if writing lots of words is the only thing that matters, not the quality of said words or the acknowledgement that sometimes the best writing involves getting rid of words that don’t need to be there.

As with overdoing after surgery, what this “writing as marathon” can lead to is a setback when either the writer becomes worn out from seeking to write more and more so as to have bragging rights regarding their productivity, or depression and decline when the inevitable editing and polishing stage is reached and the writer can no longer brag about their productivity.

My rotator cuff surgery is now more than two months in the past, and I’ll admit I’m really tired of not being able to do more than the lightest routine tasks with my right arm. Even doing tasks where I very carefully rely only on my “good” left arm can strain my frame as I just provided myself with a very painful reminder. So, I’ll remember this the next time I’m tempted to overdo, and also when I get back to writing I’ll remind myself that pushing too hard can lead to creative setbacks as well.

(And, for those of you who’ve read all of this and may have wondered, yes, once again Jim handled the typing for me.)