What I Learned from Frozen Shoulder

Some writers climb mountains for research. I seem to take a more… involuntary approach. When I wrote my first novel for children, it featured a dramatic tumble off a horse. Shortly after drafting that scene, I unintentionally reenacted it during a riding lesson. My horse galloped on without me as I hung in the air a moment thinking, “Oh, this is just like in my book!” Then, crash.

And now, as I work on Book Three in my Dauntless trilogy, D.R. Anthony is struggling with a painful and partially paralyzed shoulder—so of course my own shoulder has decided to join the project. Honest, I’m not doing these things intentionally. If anything, it must be some subliminal method-acting instinct I never asked for. The illustration above represents 19th-century Daniel sharing stories with 21st-century me.

What is Frozen Shoulder?

Also known as adhesive capsulitis, it’s a combination of three things: pain, inflammation, and stiffness. It almost always hurts at night and often there’s an ache throughout the day. Certain activities, like reaching behind my back to put on a coat, bring stabbing pain. For months I’ve been unable to raise my arm above my head. Writing is painful, so much so that I did only the most necessary communication for about six weeks.

Interestingly enough, frozen shoulder often coincides with restless leg syndrome (which I also have).

Since January, I’ve installed a whole new ergonomic setup for writing—split keyboard, different desk, new chair, trackball mouse. Not very portable, but so much more comfortable.

All sorts of “opportunities” (what I call them on my more virtuous days) arise to help me reflect on my character’s condition.

My Parking Lot Predicament

Last week someone parked so close to my SUV that the driver’s door opened approximately three inches—just enough to mock me. Undeterred (this was my first mistake), I decided to climb in from the hatchback. I had a brief but wildly overconfident thought: How hard can this be? My three-year-old grandson does it all the time.

It turns out crawling requires a functioning shoulder. Mine vetoed the plan halfway over the console.

I froze—diagonally—one knee in the air, one elbow trapped, cheek pressed against the steering wheel, contemplating the life choices that had led me there. I was neither in the front seat nor the back seat, but inhabiting some humiliating middle realm.

Frozen shoulder builds character. Apparently, it also builds problem-solving skills. To put it simply, I totally understand why townsfolk called my character Cranky Dan after his injury.

Shoulder Olympics

Grocery shopping offers similar revelations. Every item requires reaching, lifting, unloading, reloading, carrying, and putting away. At the end of all that, I’m ready for a nap with my new best friend, the heating pad.

Still, resilience sneaks in—assisted by white willow bark capsules and stubbornness. There is something unexpectedly empowering about learning new ways to do ordinary things. Humor fills the gap where pain relief leaves off.

And perhaps that is the real gift. As I write my character’s shoulder injury in Book Three—as townsfolk begin calling him “Cranky Dan”—I understand him now in a way I couldn’t before. Chronic pain alters temperament. It shortens patience. It reshapes pride. It forces humility.

Pain is a terrible collaborator. But for a novelist, it is undeniably instructive.

Book Three of the Dauntless series explores what suffering does to a marriage and faith, and how it inspires the courage to endure. Apparently, I’m conducting field research.

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Have you read the Dauntless series?

If this post gave you a glimpse of the world I’m living in as I write, imagine spending time in the 19th century with the real people who inspired it.

The Dauntless series follows Daniel and Annie Anthony—a branch of Susan B. Anthony’s famous family—and reveals the grit, heartbreak, and fierce determination that shaped their lives. These stories are rooted in real history, real places, and real people who refused to quit.

Start with Secrets to the Wind—the first full novel in the series—or dive into Born of This Fire, where the stakes get higher, and the Anthonys’ marriage is tested in ways neither Daniel nor Annie expected.

And if you’d like a low-stakes (for you, not the characters) way to step into their world first? Sign up for my newsletter and receive A Songbird in the Marsh free. This short prequel introduces you to Annie Osborn as a teenager—five years before the main story begins. It’s the perfect way to meet Annie and Daniel and step into this epic family saga.

Because once you meet Daniel Anthony, you’ll understand exactly why they called him Cranky Dan.