Sometimes, You Have to Admit You're Beaten to Defeat Defeatism

How's that for a crazy, convoluted title for a post? I promise that I'll make it make sense before I'm done, though.

You see, since last summer, I've been battling with the dilemma of how to fix my first manuscript, Unbridled. I'd written the first draft through all the way to the end, but I knew there were places that needed a lot of work. The Black Moment and its resolution weren't quite right. There were scenes that needed to be cut or reimagined to improve the flow of the story. And then, there was the problem of "the beginning."

The irony of the last problem is that several different versions of the first 20-25 pages of that manuscript had finaled in various chapter contests. So what was the problem? Well, it kept finishing third, for starters! But the bottom line was that it just didn't snap and pop the way I knew it needed to in order to get the attention of an agent or editor.

I reworked the opening (more times that I want to admit). Over the summer, I came up with a new version that I liked quite well. The first 35 pages were absolutely rock-solid. Funny opening line, good internal conflict for both characters, good setup for the romance. And then? Then, I got stuck.

Badly stuck.

I couldn't figure out what came next. I brainstormed. I wrote a synopsis that, on paper, made sense. But when I tried to write the scenes demanded by the synopsis, they felt forced. The sexual tension was non-existent, and the sub-plots were taking over like kudzu.

To make an already long story short, I reached the point where I realized the time had come. I'd been fighting to salvage a manuscript that simply wasn't salvageable. Writing it--or, more often, sitting there staring at the computer screen and not writing it--was making me depressed and even more neurotic than usual about my abilities. (See, none of the Mavens has a corner on the neurosis market!) I was starting to feel like a no-talent loser/hack because of this one book, and it was threatening to keep me from writing anything at all.

And so, with some reluctance, I consigned Unbridled to the Magical Mulch Pile (that's an Erica coinage, BTW, in case you didn't know) once and for all. Almost instantly, I found I was able to write again. A lot. And while what I wrote wasn't even close to perfect, it didn't feel like utter dreck, either. I'd gotten back to telling the stories I wanted to tell, and that made all the difference.

The lesson? Some stories just don't pan out. Some manuscripts just can't (or shouldn't) be fixed. And sometimes, it's better to admit when you're beaten and move on than to keep revisiting a failure. Besides, we learn from failure. I know I will never consider having written Unbridled to have been a waste of time. I'm a much different--and I like to think, much better--writer as a direct result of every mistake I made writing that book.

YOUR TURN: Have you ever put a manuscript in the Magical Mulch Pile? Why? How did you know it was the right decision?

P.S. In a final twist of irony, I heard on Wednesday that Unbridled finaled in Launching a STAR. But I am resolved. Even if it were to hit the jackpot by winning and getting a request from one of the final judges, I won't be tempted to pick it up again.

Much...