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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On Memory: The Buried Giant
Since Jonathan Swift’s political satire Gulliver’s Travels, fantasy has often been used a means to an end, an imaginary stage with an unlikely cast of…
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What Lurks Beneath the Surface: The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Dark nooks and crannies inhabited by ghouls, trolls, and hags, the monsters under the bed, the suspicious stranger in the street, the thing that creeps…
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On a Cloudy Day
The sun appeared out of nowhere and cast its golden breath across the furniture. It stroked the pillows, ruffled the plant’s rowdy leaves, upset the…
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The Grownup Magic: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell
‘Unquestionably the finest English novel of the fantastic written in the last seventy years’ says the renowned Neil Gaiman about Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and…
● 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 