Tuesday, August 25, 2026

Having trouble falling asleep?

 Try the cognitive shuffling technique


Cognitive shuffling is a sleep-onset technique developed by cognitive scientist Luc Beaudoin that uses rapid, random, emotionally neutral words or images to mimic the brain’s natural hypnagogic “micro‑dreaming” state and reduce racing thoughts, helping many people fall asleep faster.

This technique is designed to gently “scramble” your thoughts, so your mind stops following stressful or linear patterns, making it easier to drift into sleep. The core idea is simple: give your brain harmless, random mental content so it can’t latch onto worries, planning, or rumination.

What it is

Cognitive shuffling is a mental exercise where you:
Pick a neutral word (like apple or river).
Break it into letters or sounds.
For each letter, think of random, unrelated images or objects (A → airplane, P → pillow, P → pumpkin, L → ladder, E → elm tree).
Let your mind wander through these images lightly, without trying to build a story.
This “shuffling” mimics the mental drift that naturally happens as you fall asleep — the transition from structured thought to dreamlike imagery.

Why it works

It interrupts:
Overthinking
Anxiety loops
Planning tomorrow
Emotional rumination

By feeding your brain non-threatening, non-linear content, it nudges you toward the hypnagogic state, that floaty, pre-dream zone where sleep begins.

How to do it

Lie down comfortably.
Choose a simple word.
For each letter, imagine a few unrelated objects.
Don’t force it, let the images drift.
If your mind wanders back to worries, gently return to the shuffle.

Why people like it

This method is:
Fast
Non-medical
No apps needed
Good for racing thoughts
Easy to learn
Surprisingly effective for many people

Tuesday, August 18, 2026

Who's Reading and How Much?

 

People still read books, but how and why they read has shifted in fascinating ways.

Books are still being read widely, but the formats, motivations, and cultural patterns have evolved. In some areas, reading is actually increasing.

Who’s reading and how much?

Print books remain dominant. In the U.S., around 65–70% of adults read at least one print book per year, a number that has stayed surprisingly stable for a decade.

Audiobooks are booming. They’re the fastest‑growing format, with double‑digit growth year after year. People listen while commuting, cleaning, or walking.

E‑books have plateaued but remain strong. Roughly 30% of readers use them regularly, especially for genre fiction (romance, fantasy, thrillers).

Where reading is actually increasing

Young adults and teens are reading more fiction again, driven by BookTok, fandom culture, and serialized storytelling.

Niche genres (mythic fiction, cozy fantasy, romantasy, horror, atmospheric folklore — your wheelhouse) are thriving because they translate beautifully into short‑form video hooks.

Library usage is rising, especially digital borrowing through apps like Libby.

Why people still read

Books offer something other media can’t quite replicate:
Deep immersion
Emotional resonance
A sense of ritual
A break from algorithmic overstimulation
A way to inhabit myth, symbol, and archetype — which is exactly the terrain your storytelling lives in
Reading is becoming less of a default habit and more of a chosen experience, which paradoxically makes it more meaningful.

The non‑obvious insight

People aren’t reading less, they’re reading differently.
Short‑form video hasn’t killed books; it’s become one of the strongest engines driving book discovery.
A 20‑second atmospheric clip can sell more copies than a month of traditional marketing.



Thursday, August 13, 2026

What if I only have a few bites before surgery?

 Fasting before surgery is important because...

Fasting before surgery matters for one reason

It keeps you safe when anesthesia takes over your body’s reflexes.  
An empty stomach prevents dangerous aspiration, a complication where stomach contents enter the lungs.

Why fasting is required

Protects your airway.  
Under anesthesia, your gag reflex and ability to swallow temporarily shut down. If your stomach contains food or liquid, it can come back up and slip into the lungs. This can cause pneumonia, severe inflammation, or life‑threatening breathing problems.

Reduces nausea and vomiting.  
Even after surgery, anesthesia and pain medications can trigger vomiting. An empty stomach lowers the risk and makes recovery smoother.

Improves surgical visibility and stability.  
For abdominal procedures, a full stomach can make organs harder to work around and increase pressure inside the abdomen.

Allows accurate medication dosing.  
Some anesthetics and pre‑op medications work more predictably when digestion isn’t active.

Typical fasting guidelines

These vary by procedure and surgeon, but the common pattern is:

No solid food for 6–8 hours before surgery

Clear liquids allowed until 2 hours before surgery

Thursday, August 6, 2026

There's no APP to replace your LAP

 Why do I write children's books?


Lecture a child about morality, and watch their eyes glaze over. But wrap those same lessons in a captivating tale, and they'll absorb every word without realizing they're learning.

My own love affair with books began in childhood, sitting beside my father as he opened worlds through stories. Though I initially crafted novels for adults, alternate histories and magical realism, everything changed when a friend lamented the scarcity of children's books that both entertained and inspired.

That conversation sparked my journey into children's literature, creating tales where friendship, acceptance, and compassion bloom naturally through adventures with characters who face bullies, embrace differences, and discover the danger of hasty judgments.


Monday, August 3, 2026

Why do dogs love to chew and carry sticks?

 Dogs and wooden sticks


Dogs carry sticks and branches because, to them, it’s the perfect mix of instinct, play, texture, and “job satisfaction.” The short version: sticks feel good, smell interesting, activate ancient wolf behaviors, and give dogs a sense of purpose.

Why dogs love sticks
Wood mimics prey bones.  
Sticks have the size, shape, and crunch of bones. For a creature descended from wolves, that’s irresistible.

Wood is fun to chew.  
Wood offers resistance but also splinters in a way that feels satisfying. It’s basically nature’s chew toy.

Wood smells like nature.  
A branch carries scents from soil, insects, sap, other animals, and weather. It’s a whole sensory story in one object.

Branches are easy to “carry proudly.”  
Dogs love having a job. Holding a stick feels like a task: I found this. I’m carrying it. I’m contributing.

Sticks trigger play instincts.  
Sticks are perfect for fetch, tug, chase, and showing off. They’re social objects.

Sticks are abundant and free.  
No toy compares to the sheer availability of sticks. Dogs evolved to make use of whatever’s around.

Dogs often choose specific sticks: long ones, forked ones, heavy ones. Why? We don't know, but perhaps you noticed while playing or walking with your dog why they chose a particular stick. 

My German Shepard, Lucky, always picked short, thick fallen tree branches. Why? Perhaps because once she got stuck in the door with a long branch and hurt her mouth? We may never know.



Erika M Szabo is known for her diverse range of writings, which span historical fantasy, magical realism, cozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both expressive and insightful, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions.
Born in a small town in Hungary, Erika grew up with a deep love for literature and storytelling. Always seen with a book in her hand from a young age and soon began creating her own intricate worlds and characters. Her gift for storytelling is evident to all those who know and have encouraged her to pursue her passion.
As she grew older, Erika's thirst for adventure and new experiences led her to travel the world. She lived in various countries, soaking up their cultures and traditions, and absorbing them into her writing. Her travels also allowed her to meet a diverse array of people, whose stories and perspectives she wove into her novels.
Despite her literary success and acclaim, Erika remains a humble and down-to-earth person. She often speaks of her belief in the power of words to connect and heal, and her writing reflects this deep empathy and understanding of human experience. 

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Erika's Dream

 When the door appeared


"A door appears only when you’re ready to walk through it." That was what the old woman in town always said, though Erika never quite believed her, until the night the fog rolled in thick as wool and the world felt strangely paused, like someone had pressed a cosmic hold button.

She’d been walking the familiar dirt road behind her house, the one that curved toward the creek and the whispering pines. But tonight the path felt different, as if it were waiting. The air hummed. The trees leaned in.

And then she saw it.

A door stood in the middle of the road—no frame, no house, no reason. Just a door. Weathered oak, iron hinges, a brass handle worn by hands she couldn’t imagine. It shouldn’t have been there. It couldn’t have been there.

Yet it was.

Erika approached slowly. The fog parted around it, respectful. She reached out, then hesitated. Her heart thudded—not with fear, but with recognition. As if some quiet part of her had been expecting this moment for long, painful months.

The door didn’t glow or whisper or beckon. It simply existed, patient and certain, like a truth she’d finally stopped running from.

She touched the handle.

Warm.

The door clicked open.

On the other side was not another world, not a fantasy landscape, not a revelation of cosmic secrets. It was her own living room. Sunlit, peaceful, exactly as she’d left it. But something was different. The air felt lighter. The silence felt kinder. And she felt… whole.

She stepped through.

The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and when she turned, it was gone. Just her living room, her couch, her books, her life.

But she knew, deep in her soul, that she had crossed a threshold. Not into another place, but into another version of herself. One that was ready. One that had finally said yes.

Outside, the fog lifted.

Inside, Erika smiled, ready to start a new chapter in her life.



Erika M Szabo is known for her diverse range of writings, which span historical fantasy, magical realism, cozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both expressive and insightful, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions.
Born in a small town in Hungary, Erika grew up with a deep love for literature and storytelling. Always seen with a book in her hand from a young age and soon began creating her own intricate worlds and characters. Her gift for storytelling is evident to all those who know and have encouraged her to pursue her passion.
As she grew older, Erika's thirst for adventure and new experiences led her to travel the world. She lived in various countries, soaking up their cultures and traditions, and absorbing them into her writing. Her travels also allowed her to meet a diverse array of people, whose stories and perspectives she wove into her novels.
Despite her literary success and acclaim, Erika remains a humble and down-to-earth person. She often speaks of her belief in the power of words to connect and heal, and her writing reflects this deep empathy and understanding of human experience.

Saturday, July 25, 2026

Did You Know? The Big Apple

 Where is the nickname "The Big Apple" coming from?


The nickname of New York “The Big Apple” comes from horse racing slang in the early 1920s, and it was later amplified by jazz culture and revived by a 1970s tourism campaign.

The core origin: horse racing (1920s)
The term was popularized by sportswriter John J. Fitz Gerald, who covered horse racing for the New York Morning Telegraph.
He overheard African American stable hands in New Orleans referring to New York’s racetracks as “the big apple” — meaning the biggest prize, the place where the highest stakes and most prestigious races were held.
He loved the phrase and began using it frequently in his columns, cementing its association with NYC. 

Harlem jazz culture (1930s)
Jazz musicians adopted the term next. Smaller cities were “little apples,” but New York — especially Harlem — was “The Big Apple,” the ultimate stage where careers were made.
Clubs used the phrase, songs referenced it, and even a dance called the Big Apple emerged. 

Mid-century fade & 1970s revival
The nickname fell out of use in the 1940s–50s.
Then in the 1970s, during a period of economic struggle, NYC’s tourism bureau revived “The Big Apple” as part of a marketing campaign. It stuck — globally — and became the city’s most iconic nickname. 
Erika M Szabo
Author of fiction and children's books

Monday, July 20, 2026

Searching for the Truth

The Wanderer 

The Wanderer left home in search of the truth on the first cold morning of autumn, when the mist still clung to the fields like a secret not ready to be spoken. No one stopped him; no one needed to. Some departures announce themselves long before the feet begin to move.

He carried little. Just a satchel, a blank notebook, and the quiet ache that comes from sensing a truth but not yet being able to name it.

Across valleys and old logging roads, through towns where the lights flickered in windows like watchful eyes, the Wanderer searched. He asked questions of river stones, listened to the wind threading through abandoned barns, and studied the way shadows stretched at dusk. Every answer felt close, but not quite close enough.

One night, beside a fire built from fallen birch, the Wanderer opened his notebook. The pages were blank. In his travels, he never wrote a word in his notebook because he never found what he was searching for.

Staring at the blank pages, the Wanderer felt something shift. He felt as if a door inside his chest had quietly unlatched.

The truth wasn’t out there in the world. It was in the way he noticed things others overlooked. In the way he carried stories without telling them. In the way his heart tugged toward meaning even when he didn’t know the path.

The Wanderer realized he had not been searching for truth.

He had been searching for permission to trust the truth he had already carried.

So, at dawn, he turned back home. The mist rose again, soft and familiar, and this time the Wanderer walked through it without hesitation because he finally understood that leaving had never been about finding something new.

It had been about recognizing what had been inside of him all along.

Thursday, July 16, 2026

Mirrors are a Reflection of You or Something Pretending to be You

 Mirrors in Folklore


Mirrors in folklore are never just mirrors because across cultures, eras, and mythic systems—they’re treated as thresholds, tests, and truth‑engines. They’re objects that collapse the boundary between the visible world and the hidden one. When a story includes a mirror, it’s almost always signaling that something deeper is happening: identity, deception, revelation, or contact with the otherworld.
Mirrors are portals, judges, and doubles. They reveal what ordinary sight cannot.

Why mirrors become supernatural objects in myths

Across cultures, mirrors carry symbolic weight because they do three uncanny things:
They create a perfect double. Humans are hardwired to react to their own reflection with a mix of recognition and estrangement. Folklore leans into that tension: the reflection might be you, or it might be something pretending to be you.

2. They show truth—or distort it. 
A mirror can reveal a hidden nature (vampires, demons, illusions) or conceal it (glamours, enchantments). This makes mirrors ideal tools for stories about identity, deception, and revelation.

3. They act as liminal surfaces. 
A mirror is a boundary: solid yet penetrable in imagination. Folklore treats it like a thin membrane between worlds—spirits, ancestors, or other realities can slip through.

Cultural patterns that reinforce the “not just a mirror” idea

European folklore: 
Mirrors trap souls, reveal witches, or act as gateways during liminal times (midnight, Samhain). Breaking one isn’t bad luck because of superstition—it’s bad luck because you’ve shattered a boundary.

Slavic traditions: 
Mirrors are dangerous during sleep or death; they can catch wandering spirits or reflect omens.

Chinese folklore: 
Mirrors repel evil because they reflect the true form of spirits. A demon fears its own unveiled face.

Japanese folklore: 
The mirror (kagami) is one of the Three Sacred Treasures, a symbol of purity, truth, and divine presence. It doesn’t show your face; it shows your essence.

African diasporic traditions: 
Mirrors can be used in divination, spirit work, and protection. They’re tools for seeing what the physical eye cannot.

The psychological layer

Mirrors are uncanny because they force self-confrontation. Folklore amplifies this:
They expose the shadow self.
They reveal hidden desires or fears.
They show who you are when no one is watching.
This makes them perfect narrative devices for transformation, rites of passage, and moral testing.

The narrative function in mythic storytelling

Whenever a mirror appears, it’s doing one of these jobs:

Portal
Crossing into dream realms, spirit worlds, or alternate realities.
Revelation
Showing what’s concealed (true identity, curses, spirits).
Judgment
Reflecting purity, corruption, or destiny.
Doubling
Creating a twin who may be ally, enemy, or omen.
Containment
Trapping spirits, memories, or fragments of the self.

Mirrors are narrative accelerants: they shift a story from the mundane to the mythic.

A mirror is a spiral in disguise:
You look at yourself, and you see a version of yourself; that version sees you, and the loop deepens until something breaks through.

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Thursday, July 9, 2026

Why so many cultures fear the number three

 Do bad things really come in threes?

Three is the smallest number that feels like a pattern rather than a coincidence, and humans across cultures are exquisitely sensitive to patterns, especially ones that hint at fate, omen, or cosmic order. That makes “three” a threshold number, a liminal number, and liminal things are always a little dangerous.

Cultures fear the number three because it marks the moment randomness becomes destiny.  
One event is chance. Two is a pair. Three is a pattern.  
Patterns imply meaning, and meaning implies consequence.

Why “three” feels uncanny across cultures

1. Three is the first number that creates structure
Mathematically and symbolically, three is the smallest number that forms:
a triangle (the simplest stable shape)
a story arc (beginning, middle, end)
a ritual sequence (invocation, action, closure)
This stability paradoxically makes it feel fated.
When something happens three times, it feels like the universe is speaking.

2. Three marks the boundary between the known and the unknown
In folklore, “three” is the number of:
tests (three trials)
warnings (three omens)
chances (three wishes)
taboos (never call a spirit’s name three times)
Why? Because the third repetition is the moment the veil thins.
The first two are human.
The third is otherworldly.

3. Three is the number of the divine, and the dangerous
Across cultures, three is sacred:
Christian Trinity
Hindu Trimurti
Triple goddess (maiden, mother, crone)
Celtic triads
Shinto threefold purification
Slavic three-headed spirits
Greek Moirai (three fates)
Sacred numbers often become feared because they imply proximity to gods, spirits, or cosmic forces.
To touch the divine is to risk being burned.

4. Three is the threshold of inevitability
Psychologically, humans interpret “three” as:
confirmation
completion
destiny
This is why:
“Bad things come in threes”
“Three knocks” means a spirit is present
“Three deaths” mark a cursed period
“Three signs” confirm an omen
“Three dreams” foretell a prophecy
Once something happens three times, we stop seeing coincidence and start seeing pattern.
Pattern feels like fate.
Fate is terrifying.

5. Three is the number of crossing-over
In many traditions, three is used to:
open doors
summon spirits
break curses
bind or unbind magic
mark transitions (birth, marriage, death)
It’s the number of thresholds, and thresholds are inherently dangerous places.

The mythic psychology underneath

Three is the moment the human brain switches from:
“This might mean nothing” to “This means something.”
That shift—into meaning, omen, destiny—is powerful enough that cultures across the world independently developed:
triadic gods
triadic rituals
triadic fears
triadic curses
triadic storytelling
Three is the number where the world becomes symbolic.

Symbolic worlds are never entirely safe.

Cultures don’t fear “three” because it’s bad.
They fear it because it’s potent.
Three is the smallest number that can change reality—not physically, but narratively, psychologically, cosmically.
It’s the number that makes meaning stick.
Meaning is power.
Power is dangerous.
Therefore: three is dangerous.

Erika M Szabo is known for her diverse range of writings, which span historical fantasy, magical realism, cozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both expressive and insightful, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions.

Thursday, June 25, 2026

The Sacred Bird

 When the Turul to spread its wings

In the heart of our land, under skies so wide,
A symbol of the struggle, where hope and pride abide,
With the Turul soaring high, like a beacon in the night,
It’s time to spread its wings, to show our strength and light.
The past whispers stories of battles fought with grace,
Together we rise, in unity we embrace.
For every child that dreams, for every open heart,
The spirit of our homeland will never drift apart.

It’s time for the Turul to spread its wings,
To guard our heritage, oh, how it sings,
With courage in our hearts, and fire in our soul,
Together we will rise, together we are whole.
Oh, let the skies echo with our voices strong,
In this land of magic, where we all belong.

From the rivers to the mountains, our beauty shines so bright,
A tapestry of colors, in the morning light,
Together we’ll stand tall, facing every storm,
With the Turul by our side, a promise to keep warm.
In the fields of our ancestors, their dreams still remain,
Through laughter and through struggle, we’ll break every chain.
We’ll dance under the stars, united in our song,
With the spirit of the Turul, we know we belong.

It’s time for the Turul to spread its wings,
To guard our heritage, oh, how it sings,
With courage in our hearts, and fire in our soul,
Together we will rise, together we are whole.
Oh, let the skies echo with our voices strong,
In this land of magic, where we all belong.

Together we can rise, like the mighty wind,
Defenders of our home, with strength that won’t rescind,
In every heart beats a rhythm so sincere,
The Turul leads the way, our vision’s crystal clear.
We’ll honor the legacy, that brought us here today,
With pride and with passion, we’ll pave our way.

It’s time for the Turul to spread its wings,
To guard our heritage, oh, how it sings,
With courage in our hearts, and fire in our soul,
Together we will rise, together we are whole.
Oh, let the skies echo with our voices strong,
In this land of magic, where we all belong.

So here’s to the future, let the Turul soar high,
With the hopes of the nations, reaching for the sky,
It’s our time to shine, with all that we’ve learned,
For we hold our home close, and the passion will burn.

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

The Author's Catch-22 Trap

 Are you an author feeling trapped? You're not alone!

The catch-22 loop

Books don’t make money unless they’re seen.  
Visibility costs money.  
The people who sell visibility take the money the book would have made.

It is a catch‑22 — but not in the way most writers think. The trap is real, but the mechanics are different.

But here’s the deeper truth

Most of the “promoters” who take the money aren’t actually selling sales — they’re selling hope, reach, or vanity metrics. And authors, especially early in their careers, are the most vulnerable to that.

Why do the economics feel rigged?

A few structural realities:

Royalties are tiny — $1–$3 per book for most authors.

Ads are expensive — a profitable ad campaign is rare without skill or scale.

Publicists charge $2K–$10K/month and cannot guarantee results.

Traditional publishers expect authors to self-promote anyway, unless you’re already famous.

So yes — if you pay someone $3,000 to promote your book, you’d need to sell 1,500–3,000 copies just to break even. Most books never hit that.

That’s the trap.
So, what are the authors to do if they don't wish to fall into the trap? They do the promotion on their own, hoping to catch readers' attention by posting stories on their blogs and creating short videos on social sites.
In my experience, word-of-mouth advertisements are the best. So, if you've read any of my books and like it, please tell a friend about the story. Thank you!