It all started with a copy of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark…

I was in second grade when I bought it, a book fair find shared with my best friend. We read it until we could whisper the stories from memory in the dark, letting the dread sink in until we couldn’t help but erupt in laughter. Since then, horror has never let me go. There’s a dark romance in a world twisted just enough to unsettle, a reality so indifferent to human nature that you can’t help but be carried along for the ride.

Of all its forms, I always return to short stories. Brevity sharpens the edge of fear, allows tension to build just enough, leaving behind a terrible wonder that lingers. Over time, my love for horror grew into an appreciation for literature as a whole, but I always find my way back to the strange, the eerie, and the unknown.

I fancy myself a writer, in the way all amateurs do, half-living in worlds spun from daydreams, chasing unfinished ideas through moments of sharp focus. There’s peace in those imagined spaces, but I often find myself longing for something else. To be unsettled. To be reminded of the strangeness that lingers just beneath the surface.

I've never quite managed to conjure that feeling for myself, that creeping sense of dread. So it only seemed natural to turn to those who can. To seek out writers who wield unease like a second language.

I started The Hollow Archives because I believe horror is often overlooked in literature. It demands a unique set of skills, ones that may not always be as celebrated or widely recognized. What better way to change that than by offering, in some small way, an outlet for those just beginning to understand the power of horror? A space where they can make their voices heard, shape their stories, and, if they’re truly talented, leave me just a little more uneasy when night falls.