To a lesser extent, writers have their own set of stories they deem “dead” but the assessment is incorrect. A tale, though boring, too sprawling, or excessively messed up is never put into a writer’s graveyard. It is, instead, left to settle in the mind in unexpected ways. It is salvaged, in parts or as a whole work. Claiming a story is dead is like accusing writers of being Frankenstein’s creator, taking rotting parts to forcibly piece together a lesser whole.
Maybe we should say plastic surgery or, if you MUST say your work is dead, acknowledge it as an expectant phoenix, waiting to rise.