There comes a time when an author has to admit that a manuscript just isn't working out. When that time comes, the kindest thing to do is kill it, quickly and with finality.
I had an idea that I thought was really cool, but I had a lot of other things going, so I worked on my "cool" thing in bits and pieces. It took a couple of years, but I finally got it done and started what I always do, reading it aloud.
It stinks. There's way too much repetition; it takes forever to get to a bit of excitement; the characters talk too much; and there are places where I need a Greek god to come down from Olympus and fix the plot.
So what should I do?
I'm going to kill it, or at least cryogenically freeze it until some date in the future when it can be thawed and perhaps revived. That's the nice thing about writing, I guess: dead doesn't always mean dead, it can be "mostly dead," a la The Princess Bride, which means it's possible that someday, my manuscript will become a movie starring Andre the Giant--no, wait. He's dead.