Those manuscripts that are so bad you want to destroy them. I have several, some of which I want to work on again, but know they are so bad, they’ll take more time than I really want to give them at this point. Both are hanging out of the trunk, begging for help, begging for lap time on my iPad to break out of the smelly ole steamer trunk in the basement (yup, we own one- I refurbished that $25 trunk about 18 years ago).
What’s wrong with them? Well, they suck. No plot, no story development, no character development. Basically, they’re just a string of words thrown together that don’t do anything except take up space in the trunk. Below the pillows and blankets.
Eventually they’ll make their way out. But not yet. Not quite. They keep poking away at my brain, like Ralph’s finger.
Do you have stories like that? They suck so much they make you doubt you have any intelligence whatsoever, but they keep poking away at your conscience?