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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Someday
‘OK, we’ll go there someday,’ she said and I said ‘Fine, great’ and walked away since then I’ve been waiting, every day hoping I would…
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The River
It smells like snow tonight The air splits open your lungs Every breath, a pale sprite Whispers in unknown tongues
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On the New Year’s Eve
What is it about these lights That makes us feel joy and cheer Is it their sparkling warmth Or the memory of someone dear
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A New Take on Historiographic Metafiction: Atkinson and Donoghue
Bunty chops up the blood-glazed kidney, the idea of testicles never far from her mind. She hates cooking, it’s too much like being nice to…
● 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 