Maksym Pokhyton: An Interview on How Discipline, Doubt, and Honesty Shape a Writer

Maksym Pokhyton is an author for whom writing is daily work on himself, honesty, and an attempt to stay inside the story.

A Ukrainian writer, author of the short story collection "Something's Growling", a finalist of the 'Number of the Beast' contest and a workshop leader with more than seven years of writing experience. Maksym Pokhyton's work combines personal experience, the experience of engaging with readers, and work with themes of fear and anxiety, turning everyday phenomena into atmospheric, psychologically rich stories.

From his first steps in writing to the process of creating Something's Growling, on rituals and approaches to writing, and what Maksym wants to convey to his readers — read on in this DeTalks interview.

Do you believe more in motivation or inspiration?

Probably one is impossible without the other. Inspiration is definitely needed to get ideas. But discipline is the foundation. Without it, you won't write anything.

As soon as the inspiration fades, you realize you have to both rewrite the story and proofread it. So ideas matter, but discipline is probably the most important thing. Even for finding the important questions.

So maybe you set yourself certain deadlines for writing?

I used to have deadlines — I even set myself a goal of 500 words a day, then 1,000, like Stephen King, and tried 2,000 too. But over time, I realized that just doesn't fit my rhythm. So now I just try to set myself deadlines with a certain daily minimum. For example, 15 minutes or half an hour a day — whatever I can manage, just to get some minimal amount done and stay inside the story.

In general, when I'm writing, I try to make a plan of what needs to get done by a certain day — first the rough draft, then the rewrite, and so on. That's how I work with it.

Have you ever had the thought 'maybe I'm not a writer' — and what kept you going then?

All the time. It happens a lot. What keeps me going, you know, is the thought that I write because I simply want to, and that's it. I don't care about the outcome, doesn't matter who says what. But yeah, it happens constantly.

For example, I run workshops, and I always say there that a writer is someone who writes fiction, or, more broadly, whoever a writer is.

If you write fiction, you're a writer. But then you'll see some interview, read some great book, and think, God, I'm such a loser by comparison. And that's a normal process, so you just have to keep going. Find something for yourself in there, inside the writing, to be able to call yourself a writer.

What's the biggest illusion about writing you've lost over time?

Probably the illusion that someone has to support me. Of course, there's the money question. I looked at the numbers Ukrainian writers actually earn, and I'd built an unrealistic picture that I could be a writer in Ukraine who makes a living from it.

That's almost unrealistic. Unless you're some bestseller like Illarion Pavliuk, though I'm not even sure he earns enough to support a big family, for example.

But I think it all comes down to believing in yourself and support. I'm someone who always tries to support others. If someone's starting something, I think — great, good for them, keep going.

And at first I expected that motivation to write would come from other people supporting me. But then it turned out, like with everything in life, that as long as you believe in it yourself, do it yourself because you genuinely want to — then others start to follow, start believing it's worthwhile and worth attention. But it all happens gradually. And when things get hard, whatever people tell you, you have to hold yourself up.

What advice would you give yourself at the start of your creative path?

Back off from yourself and let yourself write, make mistakes. I'm in my seventh year of writing now, and I understand that the further you go, the more opens up for you — great new literature and its nuances, new skills, and different sides of being a writer in general.

So I understand there's no point worrying about whether I'm doing everything right, or whether it's coming out badly. It really will come out badly at first — and that's normal. But if even a little bit works, it'll get better with time.

I think what held me back the most at the start was perfectionism.

Do you have a text you keep returning to but still haven't published?

Yes, there's one. Actually, I finished it two weeks ago. I wrote it at the start of 2022. Then I thought about doing something with it, but couldn't figure out what. Later I started rewriting it, but it wasn't working.

It's not a novel, more like a long short story about a protagonist who returns to a small town. He carries a certain secret inside him, one that gradually turns into an ever-growing, naked homeless figure.

I worked on this text for quite a long time. At first it had certain aspects that seemed important to me, but I couldn't fully feel it. When I finished writing it, I thought it was a masterpiece, but when I reread it, I realized it was some kind of horror. I rewrote and cut it down three times.

Right now I've submitted this text to a collection on the portal 'Babai.' We'll see if it gets published there. If not, I think the text is more or less ready now to see the light of day at some point. Maybe someday it'll end up in some short story collection.

Why did you choose the short story format specifically for Something's Growling?

Honestly, the short story format wasn't my first choice — I originally started writing a novel. Once I finished it, I decided I wanted to publish and seriously pursue being a writer.

But that's exactly when my grandmother got cancer. I understood that I didn't know how much time we had left — three months, three years, no one could say. And I thought: while my novel was somewhere looking for a publisher, going through that whole long road to publication, I wanted to do something now.

When Something's Growling in the Silence: How Maksym Pokhyton Talks About the Horrors We Hide

The collection Something's Growling: 13 stories about anxiety, grotesque horror, and physicality — why it's worth reading Maksym Pokhyton's book. Read more in DeTalks' article.

I looked back through my texts and saw that most of them were short stories. I realized they echoed each other thematically and emotionally, forming a kind of unified 'body of text'. So I decided to try putting them together into a collection.

At first it seemed like it would be quick, but the process turned out to be longer than expected. Still, I managed to show my grandmother the finished book — a month before she passed. She saw it, and the collection is dedicated to her.

The collection is dedicated to grandmothers and grandfathers. I have two grandmothers and one grandfather. And if I said it was only for grandmothers, my grandfather would ask why I didn't mention him too. So that's the story behind it.

Do you see potential to develop one of the stories into a longer form?

It's more about the themes explored in them than the stories themselves. The stories themselves feel more or less complete to me. Some themes I've only touched on — they're there, but I haven't fully gotten to them yet. So I'd return to the themes described in, say, the stories 'Khriak' ('Hog') or 'Zvuk' ('Sound').

Some Lovecraftian elements that I really love. I'll never stop loving them for that. And even if someone says there's something better out there, I can't help it — I really like Lovecraft. The way he writes just clicks for me — exactly what I need.

These are exactly the themes that have followed me since childhood, since my earliest years, and I'm honestly not sure I'll ever be able to shake them off and fully explore them. But I'll keep trying. Maybe something will come of it eventually.

Do you have certain characters you carry over from real life?

Honestly, it's always a combination. You never take one person from real life and describe them completely. Partly, sure, but mostly you take just one trait. Every person is multifaceted, and you describe some character trait within the story's context.

That's exactly what a character's motivation is built on. Their appearance, their actions in the plot — it's mostly a combination of the invented and the real. Even if you're writing sci-fi or something set 10,000 years in the future, you'll still base your characters on people you know. A neighbor, a grandmother, or someone from your own life. It's inevitable.

What do you want readers to feel after the last page of the collection?

For me, it's structured so it starts with the darkest mood. There's a literal turning off of the light, darkness, a complete dead end, everything seems terrible, and then it gets even worse.

But gradually the mood evens out, and for me, that's a kind of emotional release. By the end, when you read 'Warm Rain', you sort of accept sadness, some negative emotions, your own past, and you walk away from the book feeling a belief that things can get better.

Finally, what's the main question you ask yourself as a writer?

When will I start writing better? Though honestly, I feel like there are a lot of questions.

There's always something to write about. I try to distill everything down to the minimum achievable result, because I understand — when you look at writers twice your age who lived in a country without repression, without the Red Terror, who had 300 years of peaceful development, they had generations who could learn, grow, and no one killed them for it.

And then you look at yourself — our country has only existed independently for 30 years, so I understand there's no point burdening myself with expectations of why I haven't done this or that yet.

Just writing — that's probably the main thing for me. And there's always something sitting inside: what I stay silent about, what's scary to write about, what's shameful. Fear is one thing, but shame is an emotion that can point very strongly to a real theme.

Read Maksym Pokhyton's review of his book Something's Growling at this link.