I wrote [ X ], 50,000 words. I thought it was brilliant. It would only be a matter of days before my readers agreed with my assessment.There was a lot of silence.

I re-read X a month later and thought it was garbage. I re-wrote it and once more reveled in its brilliance.

There was some Greek poet who would write the first draft of a poem and then put it away for 20 years. Putting distance between the burst of creative energy and the first objective analysis has merit.

20 years is a bit of a stretch, though.

I worked X pretty hard for a year or more. It went from brilliance to garbage and back to brilliance, all in my mind. I thought perhaps it was ahead of its time. Then I thought it was “beside its time.” That is, so far on the fringe that only others who live at the fringe can identify with it.

It didn’t meant that I was on the fringe. But I had the ability to “speak” to those out there.

Anyway, probably even the fringe elements would have agreed it was garbage.

Like the Greek poet, I filed X at the bottom of the pile. Possibly it would never resurface again. But it did. It resurfaced after my writing skill had improved dramatically.

Once more I tore into it and turned the sow’s ear into a silk purse. Silence.

Now I am rereading it…and reworking it…and what I last produced was complete garbage.

This time will be different.

Someone said the definition of insanity is you do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.

Nah, this next version will be more than respectable.