Franken-novel's Revenge

So, I will tell you a story about a novel. The novel, my novel, is a beastly thing and the thought of working on it frightens me, well it did for the last six months; yet, the novel, well at least the first draft of my novel, is also my reason for existing. I cannot explain it any clearer than that.
I began crafting my manuscript in the Fall of 2013. I pounded out 40,000 words that were loosely connected and somewhat comprehensible, but mostly importantly,every last word sucked. Yet, I didn't stop there, I began to sic my novel on various unsuspected friends, colleagues and even professors, who all  gave me lukewarm responses about my Franken-novel. I was defeated. My ego suffered completely and I tossed the manuscript in a drawer under my bed.



 To be honest, I believed I had something in that novel worth saving; yet, I just didn't know what it was or how to foster the novel's growth. Well, time went on, I graduated from college and got out into the workforce, then I realized that I would never be happy if I wasn't writing for a living.

Sooooo..., I am here at my computer facing my monster novel once again, a month before my first semester in Creative writing program. All I can think about now, is salvaging my story, in order to have something, anything that can be critiqued, workshopped and lastly, revised into something worth reading.