Sonja Koranter
Author · Ljubljana · Slovenia
She writes because stories speak for themselves, like the wind knocking on a window.
English
A writing journey
She has spent her life walking the fine line between reality and imagination. Writing became her refuge long before it became her profession — a quiet place where silence, memory, nature, and emotion slowly transformed into stories.
Her works are born from fragments of ordinary life: the stillness between people, forgotten emotions, childhood wonder, and the invisible worlds adults often stop noticing. She continues returning to that imagination because it is where her stories breathe most freely.
Over the years, her books and writings have reached readers both in Slovenia and internationally, including features connected with Radio Slovenia. Yet for her, true success has never been recognition alone — it is the moment a reader feels genuinely touched by her words.
On Writory™, she found something rare: people who still believe writing should connect human beings rather than simply follow trends. That feeling of being understood means more to her than awards ever could.
This space gave her voice warmth, understanding, and readers who still believe literature should carry emotion, humanity, and soul.
Published writing
HYMN TO THE EARTH
Thank you for free will,
a carpet of grass,
green forests, blue seas,
emerald rivers –
Thank you for the rainforest,
laughing monkeys, venomous snakes,
birds of rainbow colours,
cows full of milk and diligent bees –
Thank you for the Word,
letters, coloured paper, love letters,
lost telegrams, children who know how to laugh –
Thank you for life,
memories, clear days, dark nights,
the first kiss and the starry sky,
where the moon stands alone and dreams
are the carpet of a Roman road –
Thank you for the happy time
that flows back into the past,
among ancestors and future generations,
the elusive companion of my soul,
my eyes and body.
Thank you for eternity,
that it is here with me,
with my children, with my love,
that it does not torment or punish me,
does not harness me to a cart of lies
and deceit, breathes with me and comforts me
when I do not know, do not recognise the time
that is slipping away.
Thank you is too little, for it is not a word,
a tear or blood – thank you is freedom,
with which I play every day, a gift.
With just a press of a button,
the image of war, hunger and fear,
children with dead eyes,
mothers with no milk in their breasts,
a dry desert staring into me –
How many times must I still say thank you,
with a plea that our hearts do not break
and our eyes are not filled with blood,
that the blue planet does not turn back into stone.
Prophecy
I fear the times
when they will cast the Earth into the cosmos,
crown her—an aching, weary crone—
with a poisonous wreath
and grind her heart
into falling stars
and invisible black holes.
In the birthing waters of infinity
not even a memory will remain,
much less an image, a stone,
sand, water …
A cosmic emptiness will arise,
without light, without word, without heart.
The blue of the heavens will vanish
into the dust of light‑years.
Yet the clock of time again persists,
slowly moving toward nothingness,
where beginning and end
are the first word, the final image.
Everything will change;
there will be no sky,
much less love or eyes
that could drink the universe.
May the gifts of this present day
be rejected by the body and eye
so full of human greed.
Thus, from the ages of time,
the thread of the world—
of life, of love—
will remain unbroken.
Fairy Tales & Stories
Stories inspired by childhood imagination, nature, forgotten emotions, and magical worlds where kindness and wonder still exist.
Crime Stories
Psychological and atmospheric crime narratives that explore the darker corners of human nature while preserving emotional depth and literary style.
Essays
Thoughtful reflections exploring humanity, creativity, alienation, and the quiet truths hidden beneath ordinary existence.