So, I was doing some spring cleaning over the weekend -- got to get a couple of rooms ready to paint, as things look dingy and some of the paint is cracking in the corners -- and I got digging into the depths of a filing cabinet.
I found print outs of three of my first four novels: How Nothing Really Happened At The Haunted Mansion, Thumbprint On Your Soul, and Until Some Tomorrow. (The missing one was lost in a hard drive crash 4 computers ago.)
I pulled them out, dusted them off -- and I thought about reading a few pages.
Then I thought again and put them all right back into the filing cabinet.
I'm not ready to recycle them just yet, but I'm not sure I want to see them again, either. They served their purpose; I learned how to write novel-length tales through these manuscripts. And I am using the setting idea from Mansion in my current WIP, The (Dis)Appearance of Nerissa MacKay.
Will I ever re-do these for publication? Well, let me think about that for a--
Okay, that's long enough: NO FREAKIN' WAY!!!
Some folks have skeletons in their closets; I have dusty manuscripts in my filing cabinet. And they're staying there.