Cailynn's Blog

In horror, sound = presence. It tells us we’re not alone—long before the monster shows its face. In this post, we explore how to use sound in fiction to heighten tension, deepen dread, and make silence terrifying.

Five disappearances. Zero explanations. The Bennington Triangle is Vermont’s eeriest mystery—and the forest might still be hungry.

If you love horror with heart and history, Tananarive Due is your next obsession. From haunted houses to ancestral curses, her stories stay

A slow-burning folk horror where the coast whispers secrets, and miracles may come with a price. The Loney is unsettling, haunting, perfect.

Loved Madness in Bloom? Craving more haunted houses, twisted legacies, and eerie blooms? Your next nightmares await…

In horror, it’s not always the ghost you should fear—it’s the object that remembers. From cracked teacups to humming hand mixers, the most haunting things are often small, silent, and watching. Let’s talk about how to write them.

England’s Corpse Roads once carried the dead to their graves. Some say they still do. Ghostly paths where grief never stopped walking.

Priya Sharma’s horror is poetic, mythic, and quietly devastating. If folklore and grief had a baby—it would win a Shirley Jackson Award.

In Starve Acre, grief festers like roots in the dark. A haunting folk horror tale where nothing buried stays that way for long. 🌿💀

In horror fiction, monsters may chase your characters—but it's their own fears that trap them. From guilt and grief to identity and control, fear arcs turn ordinary protagonists into unforgettable ones. In this post, we explore how to build fear into the bones of your story—where inner dread meets external terror, and survival means facing what haunts them most.

Green-skinned children, raw beans, and a world of eternal twilight—Woolpit’s strangest guests still haunt our folklore. 🌿👁️👻

They didn’t just write horror—they rewrote my nightmares. Meet the women who haunt my shelves, my thoughts, and my prose. 🕯️📚🩸

M.R. James didn’t just write ghost stories—he let them follow you home. Discover the scholar who made libraries terrifying. 📖👻

Haunted by memory, not ghosts—Rebecca is gothic horror at its most elegant and eerie. Manderley never forgets… and never forgives. 🕯️🏚️

Six million bones, whispered legends, and miles of tunnels beneath Paris. The Catacombs aren’t haunted—they’re hospitable. If you’re dead.

In horror, the setting isn’t just scenery—it’s a threat. From jealous mansions to towns rotting under fog, atmosphere builds fear before the monster ever shows. In this post, we dive into how to make your setting bleed dread, mirror your characters’ fears, and become the most terrifying part of your story.

Anne Radcliffe built the haunted house. The rest of us just moved in. Gothic horror owes its bones—and its dread—to her. 🕯️🏰

A baby in a crib. Three dead bodies. A house that hasn’t spoken in years—until now. Lisa Jewell’s The Family Upstairs is a chilling domestic thriller that blends cult-like control, inheritance horror, and psychological dread in a way that lingers long after the last page.

If you like your horror personal, psychological, and permanently lodged in your spine, Ania Ahlborn is required reading. From Appalachian killers to demonic legacies and haunted children, her stories aren’t just scary—they’re scarring. In this spotlight, we explore her darkest tales, including Brother, Seed, and her upcoming novel The Unseen.

I dislocated my shoulder and turned it into fiction. Pain may heal, but horror plots live forever. Here’s how to write yours. 🖋️🩼