Sometimes you have to start over again to make sure you get things lined up just right. That is what I had to do. Let me explain ...
I started writing fiction about a year ago and allowed myself to get bumped and bruised up some. Most people were nice to me and gently pushed me along. They were nice. There were also some people that, quite frankly, were assholes about the whole thing. One such person cursed me out and told me that I must be some snot-nosed punk with no life experience to draw from, and that my writing skills were "at best, that of the level of a monkey." (For her information, I'm 59 and a published non-fiction author (one book, numerous articles, business material, with more life experiences than I really wish I had) and one thing that I've learned in my life is that some people are just plain douchebags that exist purely for the reason of making life a little less enjoyable for the rest of us.
Now, I will admit that in my early efforts my fiction was pretty rough, and the helpful criticism from more seasoned professionals was, just like it said on the can, helpful. Things got better the more I plodded through paragraphs and chapters. My use of tenses tightened up and my sentence and paragraph structure improved. I am nowhere near as good as others (folly), nor am I as good as I would like to be. But I have made measurable progress in a reasonable amount of time. And in that, I am happy with what has happened. That happiness has translated into satisfaction and enthusiasm.
So, I will continue to write these fun stories. Frankly, I'm enjoying the hell out of it. If a publishing opportunity comes along, swell. If not, swell.