Behind the Words: A Conversation with Julianna Ainsleigh
Writer and psychology consultant for True Ancient Horror
I’ve been drawn to the human mind for as long as I can remember — not just what people do, but why they do it, what pushes, pulls, frightens and shapes them. That fascination led me to study psychology, sociology and criminology at the University of South Africa, and it has informed every line I’ve written since.
When I moved to Scotland, something shifted. The old stone, the bleak beauty, the sense of ancient sorrow in the landscape — it all stirred a deeper current in me. Here, history doesn’t feel distant; it breathes. And that is at the heart of True Ancient Horror. I don’t write out of duty. I write because I can’t not write. It’s instinctive, a compulsion, the only way I know to honour the people whose lives were shaped by brutality, belief and survival.
My work is about stripping away the sanitised gloss that time often gives the past. I want you to feel the weight of real footsteps, the fear that crept under real skin, the humanity that endured even when everything else was taken. These weren’t myths or abstractions. They were people — flawed, terrified, courageous — living through times far harsher than our own. If you feel their breath on your neck while you read, then I’ve done what I set out to do.
In this companion feature, writer Julianna shares how her fascination with human behaviour and belief shapes the stories behind True Ancient Horror. Together with archaeologist Barry, she explores how fear, ritual, and love have defined humanity since the beginning — and why history, once feared, has now become her greatest passion.
Q: What led to your love of history — and how did that path lead to the creation of True Ancient Horror?
Julianna: I’ll be honest, I hated history at school. I avoided it like the plague (pun fully intended). But now I find myself falling in love with the stories I’m uncovering. Who knew? I’ve always been drawn to true crime and horror, and it turns out history holds some of the best stories I’ve ever come across. It certainly beats modern horror.
Q: Your background is in psychology. How does that influence the way you write about the past — especially when dealing with cruelty, ritual, or belief?
Julianna: I naturally start to unpick what happened, how people, culture, and context shaped their actions. It’s second nature to me. Once you break it down, ritual behaviour becomes surprisingly understandable. Of course, I wasn’t there, but many of the same psychological theories on behaviour and society still apply today.
Q: You and Barry come from two very different disciplines. What makes your collaboration work so well — and what do you each bring to the table?
Julianna: I’m the one full of feeling. I want the reader to come with me — to feel what happened, to bring those long-gone people back to life for a moment. Barry anchors all that emotion with his scientific knowledge, which is honestly a relief, as I can get carried away in the atmosphere. Together, we balance heart and evidence, which is what True Ancient Horror is all about.
Q: Many of your pieces explore the psychology of cruelty — why people harm in the name of belief, power, or fear. What drives you to look so deeply into that side of humanity?
Julianna: When you read these acts at face value, they’re disturbing and terrifying. I have to break them down to understand them; it helps with the fear, the confusion, and the revulsion. I’ve always believed that understanding the bizarre, the hurtful, and the painful is a road to freedom within yourself.
Q: You’ve written some pieces that are both haunting and profoundly moving. Do you ever find the material personally affecting — or do you feel desensitised after so much research?
Julianna: Oh, I wish I were desensitised. The Rus Ship Burning still haunts me to this day. I felt I was there, near the tents, watching that poor slave girl being abused, used, and discarded for what was seen as a more important life. It broke my heart.
And it isn’t some distant concept; it still happens now, all over the world. Ibn Fadlan wrote that “her eyes were vacant like winter water,” and I felt that line deep in my soul — she was dead before she died. It’s a heartbreaking story. That said, other tales and discoveries make me giggle, which is good. I have to pace myself sometimes.
Q: What do you think draws people to dark history and horror — why do we keep looking into the shadows?
Julianna: People have always loved horror, but from a distance, and that distance is essential. At True Ancient Horror, you can look straight into the harsh reality of life for some, yet remain safe. You feel compassion, you gain insight, but you’re protected from the danger. No one truly enjoys horror for its own sake, well, a few might, but they’re just a little different.
Q: What does a typical writing day look like for you — how do you get yourself into that immersive, emotional space?
Julianna: I don’t really have a process — for me, it’s an adventure every day. I find a story that hits, and that’s the one I write, because I can already feel it unfolding before I even begin.
My goal is always the same: that readers feel something. For the darker pieces, I want them to sense the human cost; for the lighter ones, to laugh or cringe a little. Either way, it’s about connection.
Q: What do you and Barry hope True Ancient Horror gives to people — beyond the stories themselves?
Julianna: For me, I hope readers fall in love with history the way I have. I want them to hold these stories close, because we must never lose them. I also like to haunt a little to bring both horror and laughter to the page — and I hope I’m succeeding.
Q: Has writing about death, ritual, and human cruelty changed the way you see life — or what matters most?
Julianna: Yes. It’s striking how much and for how long we’ve believed in an afterlife. It gives people hope. It gives me hope that this life isn’t all for nothing.
Q: If you could tell your younger self — the girl who once avoided history — one thing about the journey ahead, what would it be?
Julianna: I’d say, “Hey, you’re missing out — history is the bomb!”
