To a lesser extent, writers have their own set of stories
they deem “dead” but the assessment is incorrect. A tale, though boring, too sprawling, or
excessively messed up is never put into a writer’s graveyard. It is, instead, left to settle in the mind in
unexpected ways. It is salvaged, in
parts or as a whole work. Claiming a
story is dead is like accusing writers of being Frankenstein’s creator, taking
rotting parts to forcibly piece together a lesser whole.
Maybe we should say plastic surgery or, if you MUST say
your work is dead, acknowledge it as an expectant phoenix, waiting to rise.
I consistently go to my dead stories for excerpts or to publish online on story sites so that I can get attention from people that troll for free stuff.
ReplyDeleteNow that is an interesting idea. What do you do if someone asks to see more of the story, though?
ReplyDeleteInteresting post! Indeed, stories don't die. I find that even years later I might go back to a character, a scene, or some part that I can use from a former story that I had set aside or scrapped. It stays in the memory to be used later. And sometimes we can dig through files, read old poems and stories and spark ideas for new and better ones. I like how you say "acknowledge it as an expectant phoenix, waiting to rise."
ReplyDeleteRight.
DeleteMaybe I should have said something about the "six million dollar man" because of rebuilding our writing.
What a great way to think about our stories! I love the part about plastic surgery.
ReplyDeleteWell, let's just hope it isn't botched plastic surgery now THAT is a horror story.
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