WIP means whimpering in pain

I swear it does. In 2010 I started a book which I finished beginning 2011. It took me seven months and it was the longest I ever spent writing a book. Ha! I had no idea that I'll spend even longer working on it afterwards. On and off. I always had a feeling that the book wasn't ready, it needed to simmer for a while. So I sent it out to some willing beta readers who loved the style, story, and voice, but also confirmed that there was something missing. Fed up with it after having spent far too much time with the book already, and other ideas burning to be freed from their cage, called my head, I tossed it into the proverbial drawer and wrote another book instead. After that I took it out and worked on it for a while, uploaded a good chunk of it on authonomy under a different pseudonym, and waited. Nobody knew who I am, and, because the story revolves around a writers' website, people were taken by the book. Many asked to upload more, others wondered who the two people in the book were, and a few, again, confirmed my worries that it may be too specific. I decided to let it simmer for longer and write another book, and another. I had pulled it out and looked at the ms between them, but didn't feel anything. No connection whatsoever. Back it went into the folder, and I tried to forget about it. But it wouldn't stop haunting me. I love this book, but at the same time I hated it for being such a pain in the arse. I screamed at it to leave me alone, but it just smiled back with silent irony. The more I tried to push it away, the more it followed me, hassled me until I caved.

I worked a little more on it and sent it to a 'pure reader' who really loved it. But I wasn't happy. The concept didn't work. Even I was bored stiff reading it. Mind you, I'm always bored stiff after reading my book more than twice, that's just how it is, and I've succumbed to that fact. Anyway, I wrote another book before I turned to it again. My set goal is to get it done and over with before I allow myself to start anything new. Oh, I'm so hard on myself.
And I'm whinging, and I'm whining, and I'm in pain. It's hard to read your own opening more than 20 times. No, hard is the wrong word here: it's excruciating and I hate it. Then again, I know that I'll be so proud when this project will be finally published.
All I want is to find the perfect format for the story and style to shine, and I finally have a clear vision.You see, it's not your average commercial fiction, but more experimental meta fiction. I want the main character to be the narrator, the reader, and the author of the same book. Sounds complicated? Well, yes. I love a good challenge and that certainly is one. I always considered this book to be my Magnum Opus, now I just have to make it live up to my own expectations.

She said, whimpering in pain, knowing she'll have to read the opening yet another time.