Out of Love
By Hazel Hayes
'The writing sparkles with wit and and a poignant emotional reality. I love it' Matt Haig
Publication date: June 2020Support this project
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Firstly I'd like to say a huge thank you for all your support while I wrote my book. Truly, your preorders and kind comments and general attitude throughout this whole process have been such a great motivator. Out of Love is now at the printers and anyone who pledged before the cut off will receive a special edition hardback as soon as possible!
In the meantime, I am delighted to announce that I'm relaunching this page with a few new perks! The paperback edition is now available for preorder here, and you can even get yourself a signed copy if you're feeling fancy.
I've decided to change the livestreams to hangouts and bring them forward to May, instead of waiting until after the publish date. I know a lot of you are stuck at home for the foreseeable, me included, and I thought it might be a nice way for us to spend some time together. And this way we get to talk face to face! There's one hangout on writing and one on filmmaking and I'll be keeping the groups small and cosy, so if you'd like to join me for one of those then you'd best get your pledges in quickly as spaces are limited!
Also, the reaction to me reading the first chapter on YouTube was so overwhelmingly positive, that I'm offering two audio chapters here as well. This is a very special perk, which includes access to the hangoutss, and a signed copy of the book.
You may have noticed that the cover now includes quotes from Matt Haig and Aisling Bea. I'm absolutely over the moon to have two such wonderful writers supporting my work and offering me their lovely words. So thank you to them and to everyone else who has publicly or privately said something kind about Out of Love. It doesn't go unnoticed, I promise.
Finally, in case you haven't heard me gushing about this on YouTube already, the TV rights to Out of Love were recently optioned by a production company and I am currently working with them to develop a pilot script for what could one day be a series!! Which means I am throwing myself back into writing mode for a little while. And, of course, pinching myself every day!
I'll be back with more updates as I have them but for now please enjoy my newly reopened page and please take care, stay safe, and stay home if you can.
About the book . . .
As a young woman boxes up her ex-boyfriend's belongings and prepares to see him one last time, she wonders where it all went wrong, and whether it was ever right to begin with. Burdened with a broken heart, she asks herself the age-old question . . . is love really worth it?
Out of Love is a bittersweet romance told in reverse. Beginning at the end of a relationship, each chapter takes us further back in time, weaving together an already unravelled tapestry, from tragic break-up to magical first kiss. In this dazzling debut Hazel Hayes performs a post-mortem on love, tenderly but unapologetically exploring every angle, from the heights of joy to the depths of grief, and all the madness and mundanity in between. This is a modern story with the heart of a classic: truthful, tragic and ultimately full of hope.
Hazel Hayes is an Irish-born, London-based writer and director who has, until now, been writing primarily for the screen. Having graduated from Dublin City University with a degree in journalism, she went on to study creative writing at The Irish Writers’ Centre, before finally finding her feet on YouTube and honing her craft as a screenwriter through numerous short films and sketches. Her eight-part thriller, 'PrankMe', won Series of the Year at SITC, as well as the award for Excellence in Storytelling at Buffer Festival in Toronto.
Hazel is currently developing a horror series for Working Title Productions and feels most at home with this genre. When asked why she wanted to make the leap from horror to a love story, Hazel said she can think of nothing more horrific than love.
He’s standing in the hallway now, looking into the bedroom we once shared, processing the new decor and the number of boxes I’ve stacked against one wall.
“There’s so many.”
“I did say,” I call back from the kitchen. As I reach into the cupboard for some mugs, he speaks again, quieter this time.
“Thanks, for packing it all for me.”
He glances towards me, all doe eyes and guilt.
"You’re welcome,” I say.
"He goes into the bedroom and as I pour water over a tea bag, I’m distracted. I look back at the spot where he stood and remember the night he left, just over a month ago. I stopped him, grabbed him, and we stood holding one another for what felt like far too long and not nearly long enough. I tried, right there on that very spot, to commit the feel of him to my memory; the weight of his arms, the exact pressure they exerted on my body, the concave dip of his chest where my head rested neatly, how my right hip bone pressed against his left, and how my shoulders folded, birdlike, as he pulled me into him. When he took a step back I remained, motionless. He kissed me. Said he loved me. And with that he was gone.
There was a silence then. More than a silence, a vacuum. It felt as though the air around me had been sucked out the door with him and I now stood inside a void so dense that my skull might implode from the pressure. The door seemed to bend impossibly towards me, then away. I reeled, turning towards the kitchen and stepping onto nothing, as though my legs had disappeared. Before I could check if they were still intact, though, a convulsion seized me, I grabbed onto a door frame, leaned over and wretched. Nothing came up. I hadn’t eaten that day. Then I lowered myself to the floor and lay, face down, with my cheek against the wood. Somewhere in the distance I could hear a whistling sound.
I don’t know how long I stayed that way. Hours, maybe. Or it might have just seemed like hours. I can’t remember all my thoughts in that place, but at some point I flashed on the pregnancy test I’d taken that morning; a blue cross forming in a tiny window. I saw it materialise, over and over, then pushed it away. I’ll think about that tomorrow, I thought. And with that, Scarlett O’Hara’s voice was in my head and I was twelve years old again, lying in my mother’s bed watching Gone With The Wind. My mother. I should call my mother. I’d been recovering from a particularly horrendous bout of food poisoning. When she thought I was better she gave me apple juice and I vomited it back up, hot and thick. I haven’t drunk apple juice since. I should eat something. I need to eat. I need to call my mother. What will I tell her? What the hell is that whistling sound?!
It was me. I was sucking air through what felt like a tiny hole in my throat and my long, laboured breaths were producing a sound not unlike nails on a chalkboard. I probably would have passed out had my stomach not growled so loudly that the sound actually startled me. I told myself, out loud, to get off the floor, then I scrambled my way back up the door frame and eventually wobbled my way to the kitchen like a fawn on brand new legs. I ate a piece of dry toast and went to bed, where I lay howling, till I fell asleep. I had never cried like that before. The sounds were guttural and animalistic, and I let them come.
- 17th September 2019 I WROTE A BLOODY BOOK!
Sorry for the all caps. I promise not to do that again. Unless I’m really, very excited about something. And I am really, very excited about this, to be fair.
I wrote a bloody book! I actually did it. I held a physical copy of the first draft in my hands. I let out a massive sigh of relief at the prospect of finally being finished. And then I remembered I still need to edit the damned thing…30th May 2019 15% OFF & A NEW EXTRACT
It has been six months since I launched this crowdfunding campaign, we've just hit 130% funded, and I am only two chapters away from finishing the book!
To celebrate all this, there'll be 15% off all orders up to £100 until Monday with promo code OUTOFLOVE. That goes for new pledges and upgrades to existing pledges so if you were thinking of upgrading, now's the time to…5th April 2019 The Final Stretch!
My poor, neglected book backers,
I realise it's been over three months since my last update but I have a very good excuse... I've been writing a book! (have I mentioned I'm writing a book?)
The past few months have basically been me, in my living room, wearing a fluffy dressing gown and drinking lots of tea and completely destroying my posture whilst I sit, hunched over a laptop all day, trying…26th December 2018 MERRY CHRISTMAS! (& 10% OFF)
Merry Christmas book backers!
You have given me the greatest gift of all this year and it came in the form of ABSOLUTELY SMASHING OUR TARGET!!
The campaign will continue to run, and you can continue to pledge or even upgrade existing pledges, but I can now sleep soundly in the knowledge that my book is officially printable and publishable and sendable to you lovely lot. So thank you very much…30th November 2018 And We’re Off!
Dearest book backers,
This is the first of what I’m sure will be many updates and many thank yous on the road to writing my book! They will no doubt become more sporadic, frantic and emotional as we go (so we’ve all got that to look forward to) but for now let’s enjoy this relatively calm and collected version of me.
As you may have noticed - I barely noticed of course and I definitely haven…
These people are helping to fund Out of Love.
Dorothea Meath Baker
Nienke Van Dam