Life, lyric, and the hidden heart of myth and literature.
● Featured Article
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‘Just look at those fools,’ Marzanna sighed, squinting her dark eyes at the cheering group of villagers gathered around a burbling brook. ‘I thought you’d get used to it by now. They burn you and drown you every spring,’ replied Vesna. ‘And proclaim their undying love for you,’ added…
● LATEST READS
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In this review of The Artist by Lucy Steeds, I explore the novel’s setting in 1920 Provence, its central characters Edouard Tartuffe, Ettie, and Joseph Adelaide, and the lingering impact of World War I on their lives. This atmospheric historical fiction novel examines art, ambition, control, and creative freedom within…
● POETRY
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They told me you were gone, and I just froze, Like the icy rain that fell that day and turned into cold sludge Out in the streets, where the cars still ran and people trudged On and on, in their own little ruts, towards some insignificant goal The rain turned…
● mythology
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In Slavic lands, winter was never just a season. It was a presence. It arrived quietly, without ceremony, settling into forests and villages like a held breath. Snow did not merely fall. It sealed. Rivers did not simply freeze. They slept. Slavic gods do not conform to any kind of…
● On Writing
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I began writing before I understood why I needed it. My first journal arrived when I was six, and I used it to record the world as I saw it: small observations, fleeting wonders, fragments of days. At first, I was simply documenting. Then I began to marvel. And somewhere…
● Latest Articles
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Indie Review: In the Sun by Mixie Plum
In her beautifully written novella, strewn with numerous references to literature, music, and pop culture that allow readers to immerse themselves into the protagonist’s universe,…
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The Hurricane
In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence,…
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the Wind
the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages…
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The Wait
My time drips to the floor Vanishes in the cracks Drunk by the thirsty wood Like water from a capsized glass Leaving me unquenched Letting…
● About Me
Welcome.
I’m Erna, the writer and creator behind this space. I’m a creative business owner, lifelong lover of words, and a devoted cat lady. Slavic mythology sits at the heart of my work, and here you’ll find my poems, book reviews, retellings of old myths, and glimpses into my own books and writing journey.
Make yourself comfortable. Stories live here.
● let’s connect
● MY BOOKs
Beneath the Surface
My poetry collection Beneath the Surface revolves around the secrets, weaknesses, and monsters that creep beneath the surface of everyday existence. Go here to learn more!
Myths & Stories 