Why 12 Months?

I get this question a lot.

Why can't I just buy the whole story now? Why do I have to wait a year? Why not just sell it as a book?

Fair questions. Here's the honest answer.

I'm Sick of Binging

I miss the days when I'd get a comic book and have to wait for the next issue. I miss when a new episode of a show meant something. When you had to wait a week, and you spent that week thinking about it, talking about it, anticipating it.

Now everything drops all at once. Watch the whole season in a weekend. Read the whole series in a week. Consume until you're sick of it. Until you don't want it anymore.

That's not how I want people to experience this story.

The Wait Is Part of It

When you have to wait a month for the next episode, something happens.

You sit with the story. You think about it. You wonder what's coming. The characters live in your head a little longer than they would if you just plowed through to the next chapter.

I've had subscribers message me saying they set a whole night aside when their box arrives. They light the candle. They brew the tea. They make it a ritual.

That doesn't happen when you hand someone a 400-page book and say "enjoy."

I Wanted to Make Willy Wonka Real

Everything is immersive — smellovision, lickable wallpaper, a world you could taste and touch and smell, not just watch.

I wanted that.

Not a gimmick. Not a theme park. But a story you could actually live inside. Where the candle smells like the alchemist's workshop. Where the tea matches the scene. Where the artifacts in your hands are the same ones the characters hold in the narrative.

You can't do that with a book. You can't ship a scent through a Kindle.

One Day It'll Be a Book

I'm not against books. I wrote one.

Eventually, the full story will be available to purchase and read however you want. Binge it in a weekend if that's your thing.

But I wrote it to be experienced this way first. Slowly. Monthly. With the candle and the tea and the artifacts arriving at your door, one piece at a time.

That's how it's meant to be read.

The Collection Builds

By the end of 12 months, you'll have 24 artifacts.

If I sent them all at once, they'd just be... stuff. A pile of objects you unbox and forget.

But when they arrive one month at a time, when each artifact is tied to a specific chapter, a specific moment, a specific memory, they mean something. You remember the night you unwrapped it. You remember what was happening in the story.

The objects become anchors. The collection becomes a timeline of your year inside the Hollow.

It's a Commitment. That's the Point.

Twelve months is a long time. I know.

But the best things in my life have been slow. The relationships that mattered. The skills that stuck. The stories that stayed with me.

I don't want Everlore Hollow to be something you consume and forget. I want it to be something you lived through. Something you remember.

That takes time.

If You're Not Ready, That's Okay

This isn't for everyone. Some people want to binge, and I'm not going to pretend that's wrong.

But if you're tired of finishing things and feeling empty. If you miss the anticipation, the ritual, the slow build. This might be what you've been looking for.

Twelve months. Twelve boxes. One story.

Take your time. That's the whole point.