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Why Inigo Mort Created the Ghosties, an Anonymous Horror Story Competition

The two-time novella author opens up about finding community, crafting fiction, and creating space for emerging writers.

Welcome back to Scare Me! a weekly horror newsletter. Today, we’re speaking with Inigo Mort, whose novellas, videos, and author interviews have attracted a growing community of horror fans.

It’s been a busy year for Inigo Mort. In March, he published his debut novella, The Artist, about a group of friends who encounter something dreadful during a weekend away in the woods. In September, he followed up with Fly on the Wall, in which a self-help guru promises a miraculous treatment can cure childhood trauma.

On YouTube, Inigo has published 15 author interviews in the past seven months. He’s spoken to some of horror’s most exciting voices—from Johanna Van Veen sharing an inside look at Blood on Her Tongue to breakout darling Lucy Rose reflecting on her queer Cumbrian cannibals to extreme horror author Aron Beauregard, who infamously penned Playground.

Somehow, amidst all this, Inigo also managed to conceptualize, finesse, and launch the Ghosties, an anonymous short story competition that attracted more than 70 stories from emerging authors. The contest’s unique design placed experienced authors and newcomers on a completely even playing field, and the winner received a $1,000 prize.

On a video call a few weeks ago, Inigo was exactly as friendly and funny as he seems online. As his dogs got into mischief behind him, we chatted about making independent media, interviewing our favorite authors, and how he tries to give back to the horror community that’s given him so much.

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Michelle Delgado: Let’s start with a fun question! Are you a lifelong horror fan?

Inigo Mort: It’s quite hard to tell specifically when it happened. I had quite a sheltered childhood. I wasn't really allowed to engage with popular culture. My mum was incredibly…anti-capitalist might be the right way to describe it.

I basically was denied, or I felt like I was denied, quite a lot. I was definitely seeking out sensory stuff when I was young. I wasn't allowed sweets, I wasn't allowed to listen to any kind of music. I gained a lot from being kept away from that stuff, but I was the kind of child who wanted the thing that I couldn't have.

I would ask my auntie to tell me the synopsis of horror films she had seen. I wasn't allowed to watch them—and I probably shouldn't have watched them, at the age that I was asking—but I really loved hearing about them. My grandmother was incredibly Gothic woman. She had skeletons everywhere, these huge, life-sized papier-mâché statues, black wallpaper. It was amazing.

I was definitely intrigued by things which seemed a little bit dangerous and a little bit scary. I was quite curious of my own fears. If you're sheltered, someone is trying to protect you. You're engaging with someone else's fears all the time. I'm subconsciously going, “What is [my mum] scared of? And what do I need to be scared of?”

When my parents were out, I managed to secretly watch The Blair Witch Project, which is still my favorite film of all time. I genuinely think there isn't better acting in a horror film. I was not prepared at all for how real it is, and I enjoyed it so much. The best thing about it is you never see the monster.

That’s what's so good about reading books. Even if the monster is shown, it’s still something that you conjure up in your own mind. It's more the fear of what it could be than what it actually is. I think Stephen King says something about the zipper on the back of the costume—it's all in your mind, really.

We may only feel really comfortable with horror as long as we can see the zipper running up the monster's back, when we understand that we are not playing for keepsies.

—Stephen King, Danse Macabre

You recently got a very interesting lens on horror through the Ghosties, the anonymous short story competition you created. Could you walk me through how that idea took shape? Why was the anonymity so important for writers?

There are lots of people who want to write and be creative, but there's such a pressure to market yourself and put your face to something. That brings with it the fear of ridicule. What happens if I pour my heart and soul into something, put it out there, and no one cares? I think that's a very normal fear.

I thought [an anonymous competition] would probably attract a lot more people, because it's just about the writing. And because it's horror, it narrows the field even more. Horror readers love supporting indie horror.

I thought, this doesn't need to be about “look at these cool people who have written something, and they've got X amount of followers.” It could be anyone. Theoretically, it could be someone who's written a load. Maybe you've read their stuff, or maybe you really like them. And it could be someone who's never written before, and they're just trying out.

Luckily, that's exactly what happened. There were definitely loads of people who've never written anything before, and that's what was successful about it. I also wanted to have a tangible prize, so all of the money from my debut novella was given to the winner, which ended up being about $1,000.

I thought that was quite a nice thing, because it is actually very authentic to me. I've gotten a lot from being in the horror space. I got that validation from people bought The Artist, and I thought it made holistic sense to then demonstrate how much I appreciate that by giving it all back.

We had a lot of people submit, maybe seventy stories, which I think for a first time round is really good. People giving feedback to anonymous authors—it's a very selfless thing to do. That's the vibe I wanted to project.

What kinds of comments did you see? Was there a lot of encouragement and positivity?

It was all positive. I kind of thought, well, maybe there'll be some troll who just goes, “This is shit.” But no, it was all really encouraging. I'd send the writers their feedback every couple of months, and you could just see how nice it felt for them.

I know what that feels like—it does feel amazing. When I interviewed Nick Cutter, he basically said the same thing. He was like, “The first praise that I got for writing—that feeling is the feeling I have basically chased throughout my career.”

And it's with diminishing returns. You never get back to those early feelings, when you were the most scared and the most vulnerable of being rejected. Even though you may believe that the work you make is good, hearing someone outside of yourself say it is just lovely. I knew that's what would attract writers—as much as they may also be scared of getting negative feedback, at the end of the day, it's not like your face is attached to it. It was fairly low risk.

But luckily, no one absolutely destroyed anyone. To be honest, I wouldn't have shown people those comments. I just wouldn't.

Someone's creative spark can so easily get extinguished by a cruel or discouraging comment. The Ghosties definitely counteract that.

I haven’t had the chance to read your books yet, but I did take a spin through the reviews. Readers praise not only your scary storytelling, but also the way your stories manage to be surprisingly wholesome. Is that how you’d describe your work?

You interviewed David Sodergren, and he's the same. His books are gnarly, but they are also fun and wholesome as well. I avoid the ways that people use horror to shock. I avoid senseless brutality of children, sexual assault, all of those kind of things.

Some writers do it really well and thoughtfully, [but] I think the majority of the time it's just quite lazy. It's way more interesting to create something horrific and scary that is outside of those things. That's actually where the creativity is.

Both of the things that I've written—I wouldn't describe the endings as happy, but there's a positive message that runs through the whole thing. It's not just about being grim all the time. There's light and shade. I definitely try really hard to stay away from things which give horror a bad reputation, honestly.

Unrelenting bleakness doesn't have enough depth or tension for me. There’s a lot of interesting tension in a narrative with different ranges of emotion.

Exactly. I have this slightly corny quote which is: Horror shouldn't be about self harm. It's actually a self care thing. There is a perception of horror as being bleak. And actually, the people who enjoy horror like us, I think we're trying to engage with our fear. That is a good thing!

A lot of the horrible stuff that's going on the world is literally a direct consequence of people refusing to engage with their fear, living in denial. And so it bursts out in other ways, which means that they're probably quite hateful, and they pick on vulnerable people.

If you like horror, you've engaged with your fear out of choice, because you're curious. Or maybe you've had fear forced upon you, and you've had to deal with it. Life is bleak, so you want to represent that, but you also want to represent the hope which pulls you through the bleakness. Otherwise, what's the point?

From a craft perspective, how are you thinking about balancing that sense of empathy or hopefulness with horror?

I have a literal formula. I pick a trope that I enjoy—so, the first book that I wrote was a cabin in the woods, the second one is about a mad scientist—whatever it is, I'll just pick something people can identify with.

But then on top of that, I will subvert it and give it something new. Everything that I write, I want there to be a metaphor and a message that is hopeful. The message will never be explicitly said—or maybe it will be said, but it's not preached at. That will be positive, but then the rest of it will be scary. The horror will be used as a metaphor to look at something positive. Like we were saying—light and shade. You actually use the darker stuff in order to bring out the lighter stuff.

I love horror because there are so many different tropes, and so many languages in horror that we all know and relate to in different ways.

That makes me think of Guillotine by Delilah S. Dawson, which was so creative and so funny. I didn't feel depressed by the story’s violence, because it felt justified. It never felt needlessly cruel.

That's a really good comparison, I think, and especially because it's a novella as well. It just feels like you need to earn it.

This is not me denigrating splatterpunk or extreme horror, because it has its place, and I have enjoyed reading it. But I would never start from that place and [have it] be pure brutality the whole way through it. There needs to be a sense of justice and balance. If someone's going to have something terrible done to them, they're going to have to deserve it.

I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging that we all have fantasies and taboo feelings that we're not going to enact in our real life. That is basically the reason why I am incredibly tolerant of extreme horror, because there's people who have fetishes, there are people who process their own trauma through reading stuff which is very extreme. It's not what I do, but I think it's a great outlet.

The horror readers and writers I've met tend to respond to new ideas with a lot of curiosity and tolerance. I think that's a really healthy way to be in the world. You can look at something and think, “I don't like that, but someone else does. How interesting. I wonder why?”

If everyone had that mindset, the world would be a completely different and probably better place.

It definitely would. The people that we could have been, if it wasn't for finding a space like this, would probably be quite insecure, quite introverted. I mean, I definitely spent my 20s doing all of the wrong things in order to get away from my own insecurity.

I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing anything if I didn't believe that the people watching would accept me. If the world had this level of empathy, or at least a willingness to be open minded to other people's experiences, then it wouldn't be anywhere near where we are. I find it quite sad.

The horror community is so important to me now. I'm so grateful for it. Without being silly, I think it's changed my life. It may seem small, but for me, it's massive. It’s very lovely.

There needs to be a word for the feeling of love that you feel for a book.

Inigo Mort

I love getting to meet someone else who interviews horror authors. What are some of the most surprising or memorable conversations you’ve had so far?

Nick Cutter—I thought, “I'm going to send him an email, but he's never gonna [reply].” And he was very nice! Eric LaRocca was also very nice. He came to London quite recently, and I got to hang out with him. It was very nice to see him. I just finished rereading Boys in the Valley, and I'm actually interviewing Philip Fracassi tomorrow. I'm really grateful when anyone responds to my emails.

It's interesting, categorizing different personalities of horror authors. Some of them are incredibly open, and you can ask them pretty much anything. They just want to share, relate, and get personal. Others—I'm not gonna lie, particularly men of a certain age, you can ask them a direct question that is quite emotionally engaged, and it’s actually so incredible how people just swerve.

I basically use these interviews as an excuse to have a conversation with the author. There aren't actually that many people who interview horror authors, so when you email them, most of them are up for it. They want to talk about their work. Obviously, I want to put effort into it, but I'm just a fan who is basically emailing an author and going, “Can I talk to you?” Which is a bit cheeky, but I love all of them. I'm so happy to be doing it.

What have you learned from the past year of posting videos online?

I came online because I find it quite hard to represent myself in the world. I find myself, in social situations especially, overthinking a lot. It's not that I can't put on a performance of who I wish to be. But that's not the same as just being. Once I realized that, horror actually was a really good metaphor for how I was feeling.

I've had this experience through metal as well. I like listening to metal—in a similar way, the kind of people who identify with it usually feel slightly on the outside.

Let's be honest: A lot of us do find solace online. There is something slightly easier sometimes, having that level of safety. You can control how far you're willing to go with meeting people online. Some people misread that as being fake.

When I first started posting online, I can see [now] that I was scared. I didn't like making eye contact with the camera. I could see myself overthinking. Over time, because of how lovely everyone is, and because I feel safe enough around people who I think have a like mind, I've become much more relaxed. I hope that’s why people would connect with me, because I feel comfortable.

If you're someone who overthinks or tends to have a harsh inner critic, posting a video and receiving nice comments can be so healing.

It's very therapeutic. I really love therapy as well—there's something very cathartic about talking about how I'm feeling and how I feel connected to the world.

When I'm making a video, I want to say something honest as well. We're all craving—or at least I am craving—connection with other people. When I see someone else say something I can relate to, it makes me feel very empowered.

I'm not sure that social media in general is like that. That's why these subculture niches are great, because yeah, you're on the internet, and technically anyone could see it. But I just feel like I'm speaking to people who would understand me. I'm not doing it for clout or anything like that. It's just really nice to talk about how I'm feeling, and hope that other people feel connected.

I’ve heard that you have dreams of opening a horror bookstore. How detailed is that dream? What’s your vision?

I did a day course in bookselling, and it was eye-opening in the sense that you definitely need money, and you need to be willing to take on debt and risk. If you went to a bank in the UK and said, “I need a loan, I'm opening a horror bookshop,” they would go, “Where is the market for it?” It would be very hard to prove that there is one.

You have a few, but not many, online horror bookshops—like Godless, which focuses on extreme horror. I think if I was going to do it, it would probably be more of a curated storefront online that would help authors in ways other than selling books, a bit like the Ghosties.

From there, I would need the market to catch up in the UK in order to even think about opening a physical store. I think it is probably more likely just a dream. But honestly, it would be the most romantic thing I could think of doing. It would literally be a little temple of horror. I just love beautiful things, like books, and a beautiful thing that isn't even a thing, which is the horror community.

I'm the same. Anytime I have a really stressful day, I go on eBay and look for out of print books. I just want to find a treasure and bring it back to my lair.

A little dragon's lair! I think that's a lovely thing. Long may it continue! I spend more money on books than I do anything else, probably.

Horror books and tattoos—those are my vices.

You're someone after my own heart. Only support from me. I think we're all huge enablers. We're all advocating for being irresponsible with money and buying books that we mostly don't read.

I'm not gonna lie—there's so many books that I buy because I just want to buy a book. I will read it at some point. But not now, because there are so many others.

What is your favorite piece of your collection currently, or something cool you’ve recently acquired?

I found this in a French bookshop, and it's called Fantastique. It's basically about the devil, it's in French, and it's this amazing old edition published in the 1920s or something. I also found this Frankenstein thing the other day—this weird edition that was in not really a proper bookshop, but it was just there. You know when you find a book and it's just like, oh my god, this is so special? It's this little special thing.

So many of the books are bound to my experience of buying them as well. I love going to book shops. It's usually the unusual ones—the ones which are like, “I wasn't looking for you, but you're calling my name and I must get you.”

It is like being a dragon acquiring treasure, or like a magpie. They don't really know why they think it's pretty, but they take it anyway, and they keep it in their little caves. That's what I feel like. I mean, it's such a cute, wholesome thing to do. Books are so lovely, I never feel guilty about it at all. When people say they're in a book buying ban, I'm just like—I mean no disrespect, but get a life. Life's too short. Unless you've got no money.

Exactly! Don't put yourself in financial peril—I love seeing library hauls—but there are so many used books that end up getting pulped.

That’s the most shocking thing I learned when I did this course. I was like, what do you mean? You take them and you turn them into packing boxes? Give them to me!

I used to work at a magazine with big shelves of books publishers would send, and every month, the pulp truck would take them away. We have to save them! They're being euthanized!

There’s a good story in there about people saving some horror books from being pulped.

Maybe the characters become self aware that they're being pulped, and they somehow bring the whole thing down! Someone should write that for the Ghosties next year.

Introducing: The Weird Girl Edit

At the start of 2025, my friend Maya Rector and I bravely did all twelve weeks of The Artist’s Way together. For me, the experience resulted in this newsletter, and for Maya, it planted the seeds of a novel.

Now, Maya is joining me in newsletter land, too! The Weird Girl Edit is a weekly newsletter covering literature, media, and pop culture. Here’s my best endorsement: Maya is the only person who consistently recommends horror that makes me queasy. A rare feat! Her newsletter is full of freaky femme literature recs, queer horror, smart commentary on current events, and so much more.

You don’t have to be a girl to subscribe—but you do have to be weird. Sorry, those are just the rules!

Up Next: My Favorite Horror Movies of 2025

The year isn’t over, but I’m already reflecting on all the amazing horror movies I’ve seen. Next week, I’ll share a list of the ones that had the biggest impact on me! It won’t be a ranked list, but it will feature 10 or 15 movies that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

After that: I don’t want to jinx anything, so just a hint for now! I’m working on setting up an interview with an author who will make you think twice about visiting a rest stop, winning an apartment lottery, or returning to your hometown (even if your elderly aunt really does need help). More soon!!

Scare Me! is a free weekly horror newsletter published every Thursday morning. It’s written by Michelle Delgado, featuring original illustrations by Sam Pugh. You can find the archive of past issues here. If you were sent this by a friend, subscribe to receive more spooky interviews, essays—and maybe even a ghost story or two.

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