Starting Over After 100 Pages

I hit my deadline. 50k words in less than a month. I kept plugging along until I hit it.
And now, at 110+ words, I'm done.
I'm rewriting it all over again.

This novel I wrote in November is a shell of what I had hoped to write. It is more rushed and definitely not as dark as I had originally hoped. It was not the psychologically eating of my soul as I had anticipated. I did not mourn the situations or feel the hopeful but rabid butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Sure, it started out that way. The ideas always start out that way. But it was not the rough world that I had hoped to convey. And I was too nice. The vulgarity was limited because of my expected audience. The big "Fuck You" messages were watered down. And deep down, my characters were weak. They did not have the drive. They were too wishy-washy to commit. I love my characters. But it all somehow came unraveled.
This was not the novel I had committed to writing.

So, I start from scratch. I grab a handful of my characters, put them in fresh new clothes and give them life again. My focus needs to be more pin-pointed on them and not the outside world around me. They need to experience life, not merely live day-to-day. So, I'm starting it with a different spin. I'm snapping down more of my real life, casting out the maps and charts, plans and blogs. These characters are not me. But I have the experience. These situations are not mine. But what I have experienced can only heighten the reality of them. Enough ground work and symbolism. Enough trying to make everyone happy. This story is destined for greatness...I just lost that in the process of its previous incarnation. It's not Misfits but it revolves around similar situations. It will be dark. I will not hold back. You should never mess with an author.

Panda, as in Panda Bear

This new story is a struggle. I mean, I've had writer's block before and I've had stories that rip up my emotions but this one has it's own mess of internal issues. It came to me first by way of emotions. You can't write a book based on emotions. When all you get is that feeling coursing through your veins and the descriptions of such strong emotions, you just have to sit back and wait for the story to come to you or you have to make the conscious effort to push it in your direction. Either way, I was focused on my nano-inspired story and tried to focus my attention on one muse at a time. But in the back dark corners, this new muse kept peeking around the corner every once in a while. I'd get a glimpse of his yellow blond hair before he darted away. Until finally, he was starting to grow on me and emerge himself. There, now my story had been given a muse to play with. But what to do with him? The ideas had been swimming around my brain for months (and I do mean months) before I finally settled on a few. I found a great underlining story, a character conflict, to fuel some turmoil. Great! But none of this can actually pull together a whole novel--unless I want to amp up the conflict (which I didn't. It's character-driven, not story-driven) or make this into something small (which again, I didn't). So, I pushed through it. And lately it seems like my life would make the perfect story! But why lose that fun? I want to learn the story rather than already live it. So, I decided to play around with the ideas.
And finally it hit me. I had a perfect place for all of this to take place! It fit everything! It encompassed everything I wanted to say! But now I was stuck. I had emotions, a muse, underlining character conflicts and a place to play with them. Again, it was a bit of a waiting game. And thanks to an amazing author of mine, I found a new genre to play in. I already knew her struggles with it but decided to take it on. So now, here it goes. The characters are starting to really define themselves and I am in complete love with them.
This is exciting. This is why I write.