Under The Bed Books: The Good, The Bad, and The "Why Did I Write That?"

Sometimes, writing a book is all about finishing it. Even when an author doesn't care what goes into the plot anymore or can only make so many more editorial tweaks--it just wants to be finished whether it's good or not. If it's not in the best shape it can be in and has a lot of work to get into prime condition, put it under the bed. Retire it from the sunshine and the light of a computer screen to let it age like fine wine. Then when your more advanced in your career pick it back up and see if it's salvageable.

I've done that with three manuscripts so far. The only full length books I've ever written. All had a  few tweaks here and there that just needed time and space. Two of them I need to totally rewrite. But I feel better knowing deep down under every writer's bed is an under the bed book just like mine. And-- it doesn't stop me from trying another full length either, which is the key. I've got six or seven long works in the fire right now because those under the bed books lit a fire under my butt. It's no longer a problem of "can I write long?" because I have completed books to say I can write a novel. It's more of a "be all you can be" thing. Cheesy, but effective.

An emotional track one goes through when you find out your precious baby book is an under the bed book:

1. Denial: Unwavering, unflinching, you'll probably scour the pages for the clue to why it needs to go under the bed and never see it because you've already spent so much time with it and think it's a masterpiece. You read every word over feeling every emotion you wrote and not letting go. This eventually leads to :
2. Anger: Why couldn't they see the beauty you created? You see it--right there *points* on page 432--that moment where you laughed for three minutes straight? What the hell is wrong with them! That was a beautiful moment worthy of publication! (Unfortunately, just one moment won't get you published, its a series of flawless little moments put together that make a great manuscript).
3. Fix-it Mode: This is the worst in all the stages because a writer could do irreparable damage to their manuscript and never know it. Either by editing too soon or trying to fix everything that went wrong only to throw out the whole manuscript entirely. Neither are very good options. Quell the fix-it mode before someone gets hurt. If you could fix it that quickly it would be a perfect, shining book and not meant for under the bed. Give up on the hopes that it's salvageable, play a little dirge, and stick it in a shoebox under the bed where you can never see it again.
4. Grief: You are only allowed three nights of this otherwise you'll never start the next masterpiece. And if you ever want to work on those graveyard babies again you have to churn out something better. Practice makes perfect so only one pint of ice cream and three days of sitting on the couch until punching at the keys resumes.

Under the bed books will always suck. But if we didn't finish them we'd never know what they are worthy of and that would be maddening. Finish, and worry about it later. A hard philosophy for me to follow, but a smart one none the less. I got some old manuscripts to revisit and it may take me awhile, but seeing them again will make it worth it.