My name is William Hayward and I’m a writer of sorts. That most insufferable of pursuits and the creator of the most insufferable people. I have created this blog for a few reasons. Mainly though it is because I have been rejected by a lot of magazines. Both prestigious and unknown. Big and small. None of them want what I have. Now a smart man would think that it just means he is not talented or that he should aim his efforts in another direction.
I am not a smart man. I am the underground man described by Dostoevsky. Talentless and spiteful, but I am here. I am here because I like to write and I have an, completely unfounded of course, belief that people will enjoy my writing. So I created this blog. Half as a tool for me to get my writing out there and half out of sheer spite for every magazine that has rejected me.
More fool them I say because, and I do not say this lightly, I may be the voice of a generation. May because I’m probably not. But I enjoy what I write. I enjoy it more than anything else I do and if there is someway of me utilising what I love doing into something I can do than I will. Even when you do have that romanticised idea of the struggling writer. Tapping out words on a rusty typewriter, I decided to step, at least partly into the modern world, and thought I may as well put something out there and if still no one likes it then I know at least. I will know. I will know no more than I do at the moment.
Why Do I write short stories?
Well I’m glad someone asked. Even if it is only me asking.
At the tender young age I’m currently at I don’t think I have the ideas or the concentration to attempt a novel. To be frank, it just wouldn’t be any good. I don’t want to be one of those writers who go around saying they’ve written a book just for the sake of saying they’ve written a book. It would be dishonest. I want to just write what I love and at the moment I love short fiction.
Short stories. Good ones anyway, are like slices cut out of people’s lives. They bring you in and then shut you out. Always before you’re ready to leave. I think there is something magical about that, something honest and real. Another reason could be because of my taste in fiction. I’ve always been amazed by writers who can turn the written word into an art form with their style and it is more difficult to capture said style in a shorter piece of work. So maybe I’m just intentionally making everything hard for myself.
I know many writers start with short stories before turning their attention to novels. But I don’t know if I can ever see myself doing that. Perhaps when I feel ready. Or if I have an idea that could be justified to myself to write hundreds of pages on. Until then I will continue to do this and see what happens.